Scandal in Spring (22 page)

Although Daisy was the mildest-tempered of all the Bowmans, she was by no means a coward. And she would not accept defeat without a fight.

"You're forcing me to take desperate measures," she said.

His reply was very soft. "There's nothing you can do."

He had left her no choice.

Daisy turned the key in the lock and carefully withdrew it.

The decisive
click
was abnormally loud in the silence of the room.

Calmly Daisy tugged the top edge of her bodice away from her chest. She held the key above the narrow gap.

Matthew's eyes widened as he understood what she intended.
"You wouldn't."

As he started around the dresser, Daisy dropped the key into her bodice, making certain it slipped beneath her corset. She sucked in her stomach and midriff until she felt the cold metal slide to her navel.

"Damn it!" Matthew reached her with startling speed. He reached out to touch her, then jerked his hands back as if he had just encountered open flame. "Take it out," he commanded, his face dark with outrage.

"I can't."

"I mean it, Daisy!"

"It's fallen too far down. I'll have to take my dress off."

It was obvious he wanted to kill her. But she could also feel the force of his longing. His lungs were working like bellows, and scorching heat radiated from his body.

His whisper contained the ferocity of a roar. "Don't do this to me."

Daisy waited patiently.

The next move was his.

He turned his back to her, the seams of his coat straining over bunched muscles. His fists clenched as he struggled to master himself. He took a shuddering breath, and another, and when he spoke his voice sounded thick, as if he had just awakened from a heavy sleep.

"Take off your gown."

Trying not to antagonize him any more than was necessary, Daisy replied in an apologetic tone. "I can't do it by myself. It buttons up the back."

Matthew said something in a muffled voice that sounded very foul. After an eternity of silence he turned to face her. His jaw could have been cast in iron. "I'm not going to fall apart that easily. I can resist you, Daisy. I've had years of practice. Turn around."

Daisy obeyed. As she bent her head forward, she could actually feel his gaze travel over the endless row of pearl buttons.

"How do you ever get undressed?" he muttered. "I've never seen so many blasted buttons on one garment."

"It's fashionable."

"It's ridiculous."

"You can send a letter of protest to Godey's
Lady's Book,
" she suggested.

Giving a scornful snort, Matthew began on the top button. He tried to unfasten it while avoiding contact with her body.

"It helps if you slide your fingers beneath the placket," Daisy said. "And then you can pop the button through the— "

"Quiet," he snapped.

She closed her mouth.

Matthew battled with the buttons for another minute. With an exasperated grunt he followed her advice, slipping two fingers between her dress and her skin. As she felt his knuckles brush high on her spine, a shiver of delight ran down her back.

His progress was excruciatingly slow. Daisy could feel him fumbling with the same buttons over and over again.

"May I sit down, please?" she asked mildly. "I'm tired of standing."

"There's no place to sit."

"Yes there is." Breaking away from him, Daisy went to the four-poster bed and tried to climb onto it. Unfortunately the bed was an antique Sheraton, built high to avoid winter drafts and allow for a trundle below. The top of the mattress was level with her breasts. Hoisting herself upward, she tried to lever her hips onto the mattress.

Gravity defeated her.

"Usually," Daisy said, struggling and squirming with her feet dangling, "there's a stair-step provided— " She grabbed handfuls of the counterpane. "— for beds this tall." Straining to hook a knee over the edge of the mattress, she continued, "Good God…if someone fell out of this bed at night…it would be
fatal.
"

She felt Matthew's hands clamp around her waist. "The bed's not that tall," he said. Picking her up as if she were a child, he deposited her on the mattress. "It's just that you're short."

"I'm not short. I'm…vertically disadvantaged."

"Fine. Sit up." His weight depressed the mattress behind her and his hands returned to the back of her dress.

Feeling the slight tremor of his fingers against her skin, Daisy was emboldened to remark, "I've never been attracted to tall men before. But you make me feel— "

"If you don't keep quiet," he interrupted curtly, "I'm going to strangle you."

Daisy felt silent, listening to the rhythm of his breath as it turned deeper, less controlled. By contrast his fingers became more certain in their task, working along the row of pearls until her dress gaped open and the sleeves slipped from her shoulders.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"The key?"

His tone was deadly. "Yes, Daisy. The key."

"It fell inside my corset. Which means…I'll have to take that off too."

There was no reaction to the statement, no sound or movement. Daisy twisted to glance at Matthew.

He seemed dazed. His eyes looked unnaturally blue against the flush on his face. She realized he was occupied with a savage inner battle to keep from touching her.

Feeling hot and prickly with embarrassment, Daisy pulled her arms completely out of her sleeves. She worked the dress over her hips, wriggling out of the filmy white layers, letting them slide to the floor in a heap.

Matthew stared at the discarded dress as if it were some kind of exotic fauna he had never seen before. Slowly his eyes returned to Daisy, and an incoherent protest came from his throat as she began to unhook her corset.

She felt shy and wicked, undressing in front of him. But she was encouraged by the way he seemed unable to tear his gaze from each newly revealed inch of pale skin. When the last metal hook came apart, she tossed the web of lace and stays to the floor. All that remained over her breasts was a crumpled chemise.

The key had dropped into her lap. Closing her fingers around the metal object, she risked a cautious glance at Matthew.

His eyes were closed, his forehead scored with furrows of pained concentration. "This isn't going to happen," he said, more to himself than to her.

Daisy leaned forward to tuck the key into his coat pocket. Gripping the hem of her chemise, she stripped it over her head. A tingling shock chased over her naked upper body. She was so nervous that her teeth had begun to chatter. "I just took my chemise off," she said. "Don't you want to look?"

"No."

But his eyes had opened, and his gaze found her small, pink-tipped breasts, and the breath hissed through his clenched teeth. He sat without moving, staring at her as she untied his cravat and unbuttoned the layers of his waistcoat and shirt. She blushed everywhere but continued doggedly, rising to her knees to tug the coat from his shoulders.

He moved like a dreamer, slowly pulling his arms from the coat sleeves and waistcoat.

Daisy pushed his shirt open with awkward determination, her gaze drinking in the sight of his chest and torso. His skin gleamed like heavy satin, stretched taut over broad expanses of muscle. She touched the powerful vault of his ribs, trailing her fingertips to the rippled tautness of his midriff.

Suddenly Matthew caught her hand, seemingly undecided whether to push it away or press it closer.

Her fingers curled over his. She stared into his dilated blue eyes. "Matthew," she whispered. "I'm here. I'm yours. I want to do everything you've ever imagined doing with me."

He stopped breathing. His will foundered and collapsed, and suddenly nothing mattered except the demands of a desire that had been denied too long. With a rough groan of surrender, he lifted her onto his lap. Heat sank through the layers of their clothes, and Daisy gasped as the soft notch of her body cradled an unfamiliar hardness.

Matthew took her mouth with his, while his hands slid in restless paths over her body. As his fingers cupped the firm undercurve of her breast, her blood coursed frantically and the ache in her flesh became sharp and volatile. She fumbled with his shirt, trying to push her hands beneath it, trying to tear it away from his body.

Easing her down to the bed, Matthew paused to rip the shirt off, baring the magnificent contours of his chest and shoulders. He lowered his body to hers, and she moaned in pleasure at the feel of his naked skin. The familiar scent of him was all around her, the luxurious spice of clean male skin. He possessed her mouth with lavishly sensual kisses, his hands coursing tenderly over her half-dressed body. His thumb rubbed a lazy circle over her nipple, making it harder, darker, until she arched in helpless supplication.

Understanding the wordless plea, he bent and took the tip of her breast into his mouth. He tugged lightly, his tongue bringing fresh sparks of warmth to the surface of her skin. Daisy whimpered and shivered in his arms. Her nerves sent wild messages through her body as he moved to her other breast, kissing the peak into bright rosy distention.

"Do you know what I want from you?" she heard him ask hoarsely. "Do you understand what's going to happen if we don't stop?"

"Yes."

Matthew lifted his head and gave her a doubtful glance.

"I'm not as innocent as you might think," Daisy said earnestly. "I'm very well read."

He turned his face away, and she had the impression he was fighting a smile. Then he looked back at her with piercing tenderness. "Daisy Bowman," he said unevenly, "I'd spend eternity in hell for one hour with you."

"Is that how long it takes? An hour?"

His reply was rueful. "Sweetheart, at this point it would be a miracle if I lasted one minute."

She curled her arms around his neck. "You have to make love to me," she told him. "Because if you don't, I'll never stop complaining about it."

Matthew cradled her body against his, and kissed her forehead, and he was silent for so long that she was afraid he was going to refuse her. But then his warm hand moved slowly down her body, and her heart gave an excited leap. He wrapped the tapes of her drawers around his fingers and pulled to loosen them.

Her tummy rose and fell with her labored breathing, and embarrassment flooded her as his hand slipped beneath the fragile fabric. He was touching the fleece of private hair, the curls flattened against the vulnerable mound. He played with the soft locks, fluffing, stroking. The tip of his ring finger brushed over a place so sensitive that she jerked in surprise. Staring into her flushed face, Matthew gently parted the closed flesh.

"Daisy, love," he whispered, "You're so soft…so dainty…where shall I touch you? Here? Or here…"

"There," she sobbed, as his fingers slid to just the right spot. "Yes…oh, there…"

His mouth moved in hot open kisses over her throat and down to her breast, while at the same time his fingers slipped farther between her legs. As he kneaded her intimately, she became aware of a disconcerting moisture in that secret place. She hadn't expected that. Which made her wonder if she was quite as well-informed as she had previously thought.

Consternated, she began to say something but was abruptly silenced as she felt his finger nudge inside her.
That
was not something she had expected, either.

Matthew's head lifted from her breast, his eyes filled with drowsy heat. He watched her face as he searched inside her body with a lightly massaging rhythm that drove her to an unbearable height of pleasure. She strained upward and moaned anxiously, returning his kisses with uncontrolled fervor.

"Do you like that?" he whispered.

"Yes, I…" She fought to speak between helpless gasps. "I thought…it was going to hurt."

"Not from this." A smile touched his mouth. "Later, however, you might have cause for complaint." A shimmer of sweat gathered on his face as he felt the pulsing of her body around his exploring finger. "I don't know if I can be gentle," he said raggedly. "I've wanted you for too long."

"I trust you," she whispered.

Matthew shook his head, easing his hand away from her. "You have terrible judgment. You're in bed with the last man in the world you should trust, and you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life."

"Is this your idea of seductive banter?"

"I thought I should give you one last warning. Now you're doomed."

"Oh, good." Daisy moved to help him as he stripped off her drawers and stockings.

Her eyes widened as he began to unbutton his trousers. Curious but shy, she reached down to help him. A shaky endearment left his lips as he felt her small, cool hand slip beneath the unbuttoned placket of his falls. She stroked carefully, learning the length and hardness of him, loving the way his body trembled. "How should I touch you?" she whispered.

Matthew shook his head with an unsteady laugh. "Daisy…I'd rather you didn't just now."

"Did I do it wrong?" she asked in worry.

"No, no— " He gathered her against him, kissing her cheek, her ear, her hair. "You do it too well."

His hands swept over her in sensitive strokes as he urged her back against the pillows. He undressed and levered his body over hers, and she shivered at the delicious textures of him, hairiness and smoothness and heat. Too many things were happening at once— she couldn't compass all of it— the moist, hot drift of his mouth, the long coaxing fingers, the brush of his hair against her breasts, her stomach…

The silky swirl of his tongue in the hollow of her navel sent fire licking through her veins. Hazily aware of the area his mouth was traversing, she stirred beneath him.

Not seeming to realize just where he was kissing her, Matthew persisted, sliding lower until Daisy let out a muffled yelp and pushed hard at his encroaching head.

"What is it?" he asked, rising to his elbows.

Crimson with mortification, Daisy could hardly bring herself to explain. "You were too close to my…well, you accidentally…"

As her voice faded, understanding dawned in Matthew's eyes. Quickly he bent his head to hide his expression, and a tremor ran through his shoulders. He replied with great care, still looking away from her. "It wasn't accidental. I meant to do that."