To Save Emmy Read online

  Emmy shrugged. There was no help for it. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to do it.

  * * * *

  Perhaps because she wanted the clock to stop, the hours passed faster than she could have imagined. And all too soon, it was time. She buttoned the demure dress to her throat. Beneath it she wore nothing but black stockings, held in place with red garters. Her body pulsed, especially her breasts and between her legs, as if silently pleading for their usual garments. She denied them their wants. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted nothing to interfere, nothing to bar her from the least pleasure.

  She stood before her mirror, her hands like ice and none too steady. In truth, her entire body trembled. Through the mirror, a pale face stared back. A face with huge blue eyes filled with trepidation. Was she doing the right thing? She desperately needed someone to tell her she was doing the right thing. Needed it all the more perhaps because she knew she was not.

  The clock in the drawing room chimed eight. And for the first time in three days, Emmy smiled, a frightened smile perhaps, but a smile none-the-less. She was about to do something terribly wicked and was determined she was going to love every minute of it.

  Done with thinking, done with her questions, doubts and fears, she turned from the mirror and left her room.

  * * * *

  At the stroke of eight, a black carriage stopped before the door of Emmy’s small mansion. He watched from the dark interior as her houseman stepped before her, opened the carriage door and helped her inside.

  She sat opposite him.

  The door closed.

  The carriage nearly jarred her from her seat as it lurched into traffic over London’s cobblestone streets.

  Her eyes had not as yet adjusted to the dark, she smoothed her skirt and the cape she wore over it and broke the silence with, “Your Lordship.”

  Nick chuckled softly. “So formal, Emmy? We’ve never bother with titles before.”

  He heard a soft gasp and struck a match, lighting the lamp set to the right of the door. He replaced the chimney and asked with his usual cocky grin, “Surprised?”

  The curtains were closed. There was nothing but privacy, exactly what she had expected, except across from her sat the wrong man. Or the right one. She couldn’t for the moment think. She couldn’t quite grasp what was happening.

  To say she was shocked was an understatement, but with that shock came a surge of relief. Only that relief was instantly marred by fear. It took a long moment before she found the courage to ask, “What did you do with him?”

  Nick grinned at her obvious thoughts. “He’s on his way to China.”

  “Oh my God, Nicky, you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t!”

  “All right, I didn’t.” He grinned again, and Emmy knew he spoke the truth. In an instant, she realised what he was about. He was saving her from herself. Damn the man and damn her for telling him of her plans. He’d gone and ruined everything.

  The worst of it wasn’t that he’d delayed the inevitable. The worst of it was he’d caused her days of untold anxiety and soul searching all for naught.

  Suddenly, it was all too much for her to take.

  “Why you…” she muttered as she lunged at him and got in two whacks before he managed to still her struggles. Violence was completely out of character. It took both of them by surprise. It shouldn’t have. During these last few days, Emmy had suffered under some intense emotional trauma. She’d made a major decision, one she had no particular liking for, and silently, blamed him for hour upon hour of unnecessary tormented worry. He’d dared to give her a glimpse of what it could be like then, heartlessly, disappeared. She hadn’t heard a word from him since he’d run from her home three days back.

  Her arms were twisted behind her back. Any movement on her part brought pain to her shoulders. She had no choice but to remain absolutely still, trapped between his hard thighs.

  His hands moved to just beneath her shoulders, effectively preventing any movement but doing so without pain.

  “I could kill you for this,” she gritted between clenched teeth. It had taken months of thought, hours of building courage, only to find him here, her plans in ruin.

  He gave her a shake. “I could kill you for even thinking of this.”

  Her mouth was almost even with his. He felt her panting, sweet breath against his lips and swore to ignore it. He’d thwarted her plans. Nick could understand why that would upset her. What he didn’t understand was why her anger should cause an ache in his chest. Quickly, he shook aside the absurd thought. It didn’t, of course. He was hungry. The small gnawing he felt was simply his belly asking for food. Nothing more.

  He flipped her suddenly over his knee, yanked up her skirt and applied two sharp slaps to her rear. It took two before his mind registered naked flesh. In an instant, her skirt was in place and she was upright again.

  Emmy’s world swam dizzily around her. He was flipping her every which way, so fast she barely felt his slap. Still, she knew he was aware of her nakedness.

  Nick’s heart pounded. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t even suspected. His voice was filled with shock. “You were going to do it. You were actually going to do it.” He couldn’t seem to stop the nonsensical words, even though both of them knew her meeting with the duke was for one purpose only.

  He shook her again. Hard. Hair pins flew every which way. Part of her hair stayed in place while part of it nearly covered one side of her face. Rage bubbled inside her breast. How dare he touch her like this? How did he presume to touch her, to put his hands on her without her permission? “You bastard!”

  Nick instantly stopped his maltreatment. Both were breathing hard.

  Emmy had never felt so out of control. She wanted to kill him, to scratch his eyes out. Why?

  Because she’d been so afraid, because she’d paced her floors for days, because he’d kissed her and something had happened, because both of them knew it yet he had walked away.

  Anger guided her, releasing any inhibitions, throwing the last of any caution to the wind. Her head moved forward. Her lips were on his. This was no sisterly kiss, nor one born of passion. It was rooted solely in anger.

  Nick gasped his surprise but instantly realised his error, for the gasp only brought her taste and scent deep into his brain. He couldn’t stop his low groan or the instant need to kiss her in return.

  And kiss her he did. He couldn’t stop and thought perhaps he never would. How could he want like this? How could the need be so sudden, so strong?

  It took no effort to coax her lips apart. She knew now what was expected of her. Nick couldn’t help but feel a measure of pride that he had been the one to teach her. That she knew what she did because of him. They groaned in unison as his tongue slid deep into her heat. He wondered if a woman had ever tasted like this, had ever burned like this?

  Emmy felt almost faint with pleasure. He was delicious, hot, wet—hotter and wetter than she had remembered. He tasted so good.

  “I love the way you taste,” she said against his open mouth and smiled at his soft groan. “The way you move your tongue, the way you eat at me. I can’t believe how much I love it.”

  His tongue was rough then sweetly gentle and rough again. She couldn’t hold back her groan. His mouth mastered not only her lips but her entire body as the touch of his lips and tongue somehow pulled at her stomach, causing an ache to form, even as she prayed he would never stop.

  Lust shot into his brain and from his brain to his cock. He’d never been so hard. “Emmy, my God,” he groaned as his mouth left hers to discover the softness and clean taste of her neck, her small ears. He breathed hard. He needed a second, or this would be over before it had fully begun.

  Still he couldn’t resist touching her. Just a little. His hand moved under her skirt, up a stocking clad leg to a naked hip.

  Naked! And then he remembered. She wasn’t naked for him but for another. The knowledge defused his passion faster than a splash of cold water.

 
; Nick flung her back to her seat. Panting still, he strained for control. She was naked beneath her dress. Naked. Every cell of his body called for him to reach out and touch her. He ached to see her, still he sat there, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe.

  This was a mistake. He should have let her meet with Philips and come to terms with it later. Damn! Now, he was in a fix.

  It took Emmy a long moment to realise his lips were no longer on hers, his tongue no longer inside her mouth. And when she did, she snapped without thinking, “You, too? The rumours are false then?”

  “What rumours?” Nick could hardly breathe, never mind understand what she was talking about.

  “You and women. Do you prefer boys, too? Is it something all men would rather?”

  The truth came crashing over him. He knew why Emmy hadn’t known how to kiss, why she refused to even think about marrying again, why she hadn’t gotten pregnant and why in almost a year’s time she’d barely mentioned her husband.

  “Why did you stay?”

  She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Richard wasn’t cruel. Indeed, he was most kind and generous. I was his wife. It was my duty to stay.”

  “Who the hell told you that crap?”

  “My father.”

  “You told your father about the boys, and he told you to stay?”

  She shook her head. “On my wedding day, he told me a wife must permit her husband certain rights. He said, ‘Men are different. Some like one thing, some another’.”

  “Jesus.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. She was so damn innocent. No father should send his daughter to a husband this innocent. “He didn’t mean boys.”

  Emmy didn’t believe him. “No? Then what did he mean?”

  “He meant…he meant…” Nick didn’t know how to explain. She knew nothing of the happenings between a man and woman. “First of all, he was wrong. The things that happen between a husband and wife should be agreed upon by both.”

  “And?”

  “And I can’t go into particulars.”

  She laughed, without a shred of humour. “I thought not.” A moment of silence passed before she finally said, “All right, let’s see if I understand. It’s not normal for men to like boys.”

  “Absolutely not.

  “And I misunderstood my father’s words.”

  Nick nodded. “You did.”

  “And you are a normal man?”

  “I like to think so.”

  “I’ve been told I’m beautiful. Do you think I am?”

  Nick could see where this was leading. He was desperate not to answer even though he knew he must. “You are.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because I care for you. Don’t you understand? Men who… Goddamn it, Emmy, you’re special. I can’t use you like that.”

  “And the kiss and what happened a few days ago? What was that?”

  He shook his head. “I lost control. I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  Nick groaned. He couldn’t tell her the truth, and he couldn’t lie. Emmy had no self- worth, thanks to Richard. If he lied, it would only lower her already damaged self-esteem. “I loved it. It was perfect,” he admitted bleakly.

  She laughed again at his wretched look, this time with feeling. “Apparently, kissing doesn’t make you happy.”

  Nick shot her a hard look, a look that forbade her to further her comments.

  But Emmy wasn’t about to let it go. “You said perfect. How do you mean?”

  He smiled. She was so damned sweet. How could any man resist her? “I mean you taste better than shrimp, and you know how much I love shrimp.”

  Having once watched him down two pounds of the shellfish in one sitting, Emmy was well aware of his love for the tiny crustaceans. She giggled. “Do you want to make love to me, Nick?”

  “Oh God,” he groaned in obvious misery. “Yes.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “No,” he nearly choked on the word, for at that moment, no matter his wants, Nick was positive he would not.

  “Do you think that’s fair? You don’t want me with others, but you won’t make love to me yourself.”

  “You’ll thank me for it one day.”

  Emmy grinned, knowing without a doubt that she was going to thank him tonight, only he didn’t know it yet. It was amazing what a little confidence could do, how brave it could make a woman. She bit her bottom lip and forced a breathy innocence she was far from feeling into her voice. “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?”

  Nick frowned. “No. Are you feeling all right?” He wanted to reach across and touch her forehead but, at the last minute, thought better of coming too close. Presently, he didn’t trust himself to touch any part of her.

  “I feel fine.” She shrugged. “Just a little warm.”

  “Well, we’ll be at the lake house soon. It will be cooler there.” Nick gave some serious thought to walking into the freezing water and maybe staying there for the night.

  “Oh, are we going to the lake?”

  He nodded, suddenly not quite as sure of his actions or motives for that matter as he’d been an hour ago. He was taking her there to keep her safe, wasn’t he? He would spend the time talking some sense into her, wouldn’t he?”

  “It’s quite empty, you know.”

  He nodded, totally missing her point. “I know where you keep the key.”

  “No servants.”

  Nick still didn’t pick up on her train of thought. “I packed enough food for a spell. We’ll manage.”

  “Alone?”

  He shrugged. “I thought it best to get you out of London for a few days.”

  Emmy laughed. “Saving me from temptation, I take it.”

  He shrugged again. Nick wasn’t all that sure of his plans. All he knew for a fact was it was imperative to get her away from that bastard Darien. “Something like that.”

  “Betsy and the others will worry if I’m not home at a reasonable hour. They’ll send out an alarm.”

  “About right now, my man is delivering a note to your home. It seems you’ve been called away. A friend of yours has been taken ill.”

  She laughed softly. “It seems you are quite a bit more devious than I had imagined.”

  Nick eyed her suspiciously, wondering at her oddly calm attitude. “Are you planning something?”

  “Me? Hardly. I think you’ve done enough planning for the both of us, wouldn‘t you agree?”

  Nick thought so, as well. Only now that his plans had come to fruition, things looked a bit different. “I would have thought you might offer some objection.”

  Emmy grinned. “Why? I think you’ve done a fine job of it so far.”

  His gaze narrowed, and he felt suddenly uncertain as he said, “I’m not sure about that look in your eyes. What are you thinking?”

  She blinked. “I’m sure I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talking about.”

  “Rather than the lake house, perhaps I should bring you instead to the first nunnery.”

  Emmy laughed at that. “Perhaps, but you might take the poor sister’s sensibilities into consideration. I’m sure to shock them overmuch with my present state of dress.” She pulled away her cape, and Nick, even without firsthand knowledge, could clearly see she was naked beneath the thin material.

  “Emmy, Jesus.”

  Emily grinned at his muttered oath and thought she understood. “Are you afraid of me, Nick?”

  “Certainly not,” he lied. He wasn’t afraid. He was terrified. Every moment that passed, she seemed to grow lovelier, more confident, more impossible to resist. God, couldn’t this carriage move faster? It was the candlelight, the close quarters. It was knowing she wore nothing under that dress. He couldn’t tear his mind from what eagerly awaited a man’s pleasure.

  “It is warm in here,” she said again, and Nick’s pulse began to pound for he suddenly knew exactly what she was about. He groaned as he watched in helpless fascination as her breasts mo
ved unconfined beneath the thin material. Don’t do anything, he silently cried. Please God, he prayed, don’t let her do anything.

  Emmy ignored his silent prayer, as apparently did The Almighty, for she opened a button at her throat. “That’s a little better.”

  Only a little? Nick wondered if he would live through this, for he knew exactly what she was up to. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t utter a sound. Just as he knew they would, her fingers moved to the next button and the next.

  One, two, three, four…he was dying. Five…no more, six, he tried to close his eyes. They refused to stay shut. He tried not to look. He couldn’t stop looking, and she knew it.

  “Does this bother you?”

  “No.” Was that breathless croaking sound his voice? His breath trembled. He was sure his heart couldn’t pound any harder. Jesus, was it possible to survive this? His voice was barely a croak, when he implored, “Emmy, don’t do this?”

  “You said it didn’t bother you.”

  “I lied.”

  “I know.” And she did know. Some primitive instinct told her she held the power. And for the first time in her life, Emmy was going to use it.

  He couldn’t move his gaze from her fingers and the creamy skin she exposed as each button came undone. He’d seen her breasts before and couldn’t get the memory of her lush beauty out of his mind. All he could think was he had to see her again. Blood pounded in his ears, in his head, and his eyes strained through the dim light as the soft inner swell of her breasts came into view. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t near enough.

  He needed to see more. He was dying to see more. Move! He wanted to scream. Move so your dress will part even more. And even as the thought crashed through his brain, stealing every thought but one, a glimmer of sanity prevailed, and he silently prayed for a way to stop her. Please God, he had to find a way to stop her.

  “Nice sugar loaves, baby,” he said trying to shock her into stillness. “Quite the pretty sight, if I remember correctly.” Nick bit back a curse at the nonsense just spouted. If he lived a hundred years, a thousand, he’d never forget and the word pretty hardly qualified. She was the most gorgeous creature. He crossed his legs, lest she detect his body’s reaction to her loveliness and realise his words were merely a ruse, the cry of a desperate man.