Julie Garwood Read online

  “We stopped.”

  “You did? And you’re not angry with me?” She thought it a foolish question as soon as she had asked it. It was obvious that he wasn’t angry because he was smiling at her. She therefore concluded that he hadn’t stayed long enough at Bradford Hills to know what she had done. Oh, well, she thought with a nervous laugh, he’ll find out soon enough. Then the fat would be in the fire.

  Best get the speech over before Bradford went upstairs, Caroline decided. “I really must speak to you, Bradford.”

  “Say good night to Milford, my love.”

  “What? But he just got here. Surely he isn’t leaving yet?”

  “Not Milford, Caroline,” Bradford contradicted.

  “Milford isn’t leaving?”

  The guest in question was much quicker at understanding what Bradford was telling his wife. He threw his cloak over the hall table and strolled down the hallway in search of dinner, whistling a snappy tune.

  “Time for bed, Caroline.”

  “But I’m not tired.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It’s daylight, Bradford. I won’t be able to sleep.” “I hope not.”

  Caroline blushed when Bradford picked her up and carried her up the steps. She had finally realized what his intention was. “We can’t do this,” she protested. “Milford is going to know!”

  Bradford had reached the landing and asked, “Your bedroom or mine?”

  “Our bedroom,” Caroline corrected, giving up the argument. She pointed to the first door on the right but when her husband was about to open it, she grabbed hold of his hand, remembering the furniture. “There’s something I’d like to explain about the room,” she rushed on.

  Bradford ignored her and opened the door. His bedroom furniture was where he expected it to be, and he forced himself to keep his expression neutral as he walked inside and shut the door behind him.

  Caroline waited for his comment, but Bradford seemed content to lean against the door and hold her in his arms.

  He spotted the empty tub in the corner of the room and remembered that he was covered with a layer of dust. He reluctantly let Caroline slide to the floor and gave her only a chaste kiss on the top of her head. He knew that if he kissed her the way he wanted to, the bath would be forgotten. “First things first, love,” he whispered with a reluctant sigh. He turned and opened the door and shouted for water, loud enough for all the guards to hear him.

  “Bradford, will you please give me your attention now?” Caroline asked. She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. “Notice anything different?” she asked.

  “I notice everything,” Bradford answered. “Your hair’s a mess and that ugly gown makes you look like you died yesterday. Take it off as soon as the bath’s ready.”

  Caroline wasn’t at all offended by his comments, admitting to herself that he was accurate. He was smiling at her and his expression warmed her. He wanted her. “I have never seen you in such a good humor,” she confessed with a whisper. “I thought you’d be angry about the furniture, but you haven’t even noticed. Your study’s down the hall by the way.”

  “I noticed,” Bradford said with a chuckle. “There’s only one bed that size in all of England I would imagine.”

  “Bradford, do try to be serious for a minute. There’s something I would like to discuss with you. And you’re making me nervous grinning at me like that.”

  A knock on the door interrupted her. Bradford opened it, saw that it was the guards with buckets of water, and allowed them entrance. He dragged the big tub in front of the fireplace and lit a fire while the tub was being filled.

  The wait was an eternity for Caroline. She wanted to get her speech over with. Bradford was sure to gloat. And then it all made sense. Milford! He must have told Bradford that she intended to come home with Bradford. That was the reason for her husband’s light-hearted attitude now.

  “What did Milford tell you?” Caroline asked. “When he visited with me, he—”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence. Bradford was taking his clothes off, distracting her. His shirt was over his head and thrown on the floor and then he was walking over to the nightstand. Caroline watched, mesmerized, as her husband washed his face and hands from the water in the porcelain bowl. “You’re washing before you have your bath?” she asked in bewilderment. “That’s being a bit meticulous, isn’t it?”

  Bradford smiled. He came over to the bed and sat down beside his wife. “On your knees, wench,” he stated in a growl.

  Caroline was surprised by the order. “You want me on my knees?” Her spine was beginning to stiffen. “Now look here, Bradford, I don’t know what Milford told you, but—”

  “Help me pull my boots off, sweetheart.”

  “Oh.” Caroline showed her exasperation. She didn’t get on her knees but straddled his legs instead, giving Bradford a delightful view of her backside. When she was finished with the task, she turned, hands on hips. “Now will you listen to me?”

  “After our bath.”

  “Our bath?”

  Bradford nodded, laughing at Caroline’s blush. He slowly removed her clothes. Caroline noticed that his hands shook and was surprised by the show of emotions, for her husband’s face didn’t give a hint of what he was thinking now.

  He picked her up, fighting the sensations her softness caused, and settled himself in the tub with Caroline on his lap.

  “You’re blushing like a virgin, wife,” Bradford commented with a calculated leer. “See to my bath,” he commanded. He handed her a clump of soap and Caroline began to wash her husband’s chest.

  Neither said a word during the next breathless minutes. Caroline lost the soap when she began to rinse the lather off his chest. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, heard herself whisper that he would have to stand up so that she could wash his legs, and thought her voice sounded as harsh as the wind circling the walls outside.

  “I don’t think I could stand,” Bradford told her. His wife was staring, quite intently, at his chest, and he forced her to look up at him. “You do that to me, you know,” he said in a husky voice.

  “Do what?” Caroline whispered shyly.

  “Make me weak with desire. I wanted to go easy this time, to savor the moments before I touched you, to build the anticipation …”

  “If you don’t kiss me soon, I think I will die,” Caroline whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.

  He gave her a teasing, nibbling kiss but Caroline was too impatient. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth.

  Bradford couldn’t tease any longer. He kissed her fully then, and his mouth was so hot, so hard, and Caroline responded with her own heat, her own need.

  Her tongue mated with his and Bradford turned her until she was straddling his hips. Her breasts drove him wild, rubbing enticingly against his chest, and he couldn’t quit kissing her, touching her.

  Caroline clung to his neck, assaulted by the passion that ignited between them. His tongue tormented her; she couldn’t seem to get close enough to him, feeling the raw burning need overpower her.

  He whispered words of love, erotic, titillating words, but the haze of passion was so thick, so consuming, that she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the building fire.

  His hands stroked her back, kindling the flame of desire, and then he was caressing the very core of her and she heard herself cry out in agony and building ecstasy. “Jered!” It was a demand.

  Bradford thrust into her, again and again. Caroline arched against him, tightening her hold, and welcomed their shared release.

  She collapsed against his chest, exhausted from the pleasure of his impatient lovemaking, her impatient response.

  Bradford’s heart sounded as if it was about to explode, and Caroline waited until the pace had slowed before she moved.

  “I had forgotten that we were in a tub,” she whispered with a shaky laugh. She sighed, cuddling her head against the side of his n
eck, and closed her eyes. “I love you, Bradford.”

  “I’ll never tire of hearing you say it,” Bradford whispered.

  Caroline nodded, her only reaction to his words. And then she started to cry, and heaven help her, she was as loud as Charity.

  Bradford let her sob against his chest, tenderly stroking her shoulders, and when she had slowed down and could hear him, he said, “Caroline, listen to me.”

  “No,” Caroline said. “You must listen to me first. I understand you can’t love me yet. I’ve been too impatient and demanding,” she continued with another loud sob. “You haven’t allowed yourself time to know decent women and I’ve placed demands on you that you can’t possibly meet. I’m going to put up with you and accept you as you are.”

  If she believed that her fervent speech would soothe her husband, she was mistaken. Bradford frowned. “That’s noble of you, wife. Are you giving up then?”

  Caroline glanced up and saw the amusement in his eyes. “What? No, I’m only accepting, Bradford,” she replied.

  “And just how long do you plan to be patient, love?” he asked, smiling.

  “You’re confusing me, Bradford,” Caroline remarked. “I thought you’d be moved by my decision and instead find that you think it’s amusing. And just what am I to think about that?” she asked herself more than her husband.

  She stood up and used his stomach as her stepping stone to get out of the tub, satisfied when she heard his loud groan of protest.

  “Serves you right for being so arrogant,” Caroline announced. “Milford told you I wanted to come home, didn’t he? That’s why you’re so happy, isn’t it?” Caroline said with growing exasperation.

  “I’m happy because I’ve just made love to my obedient wife,” Bradford returned, grinning.

  “There isn’t an obedient bone in my body,” Caroline contradicted. She knelt down beside the tub, fished the soap from the water, and began to scrub her husband. “Unless I give my word, of course. Then, I guess you could say I’m obedient about keeping it.” She sighed and added, “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

  Bradford wasn’t sure she even realized what she was doing. She looked like she was getting as worked up as the lather she was building on his right leg and he started laughing again.

  “I think you’ve taken the skin off,” Bradford remarked. “Don’t look so perplexed, love. Are you finished with your apology or is there more?” he asked with lazy interest.

  “I didn’t apologize, but I’m not going to argue about it.”

  “Then I believe it’s my turn,” Bradford announced. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I know it hasn’t been easy, loving me, and I’ve caused you a lot of distress. My only excuse is that I love you so much that I’ve behaved like a fool. I—”

  Caroline had dropped the soap and stood up during his speech. “Don’t you dare tease me, Bradford.” Tears coursed down her cheeks and she brushed them away with the back of her hand. “Are you telling me the truth? You really love me?”

  Bradford was out of the tub and holding Caroline in his arms before she could move. “Have I done that to you?” he asked, his voice filled with pain. “God, Caroline, I love you! I think I always have. And now that I’m finally about to say the words, you cry! I’ve never lied to you, Caroline. Never!” His voice was so fierce and Caroline could hear the agony.

  She cried into his chest and Bradford stood there, feeling completely helpless. He dripped water all over the floor while she dripped hot tears all over him.

  “You can’t take it back.”

  Caroline’s voice was muffled and he had to ask her to repeat what she had just said. She was sniffling and hiccuping but she finally got the words out. “I said you can’t take it back.”

  Bradford started to laugh, and surely that was the reason for the tears in his own eyes. He dragged his trembling wife to the bed and hugged her under the covers. He kissed her, a long, satisfying kiss, and then told her again and again how much he loved her, until he was certain that she believed him.

  “I’m waiting to hear the rest,” Caroline told him. She drummed her fingers against his chest for a full minute before she realized that Bradford wasn’t going to say anything else. And then she started to laugh. “God, but you’re a stubborn man! Of course you love me. I’ve known it for the longest time,” she lied brazenly. “Now admit that you’ll trust me, no matter what the circumstances.”

  “Outline all of them before I commit myself,” Bradford returned, grinning. He pushed her head down beneath his chin and inhaled her special fragrance. “You smell of roses,” he whispered.

  “And so do you,” Caroline told him. “We used my soap. It’s scented.”

  Bradford grumbled to himself.

  “At least you don’t smell like your horse anymore,” Caroline volunteered with a chuckle. “You know, Bradford, the name of your horse was a definite clue and I’m only now realizing it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Bradford asked, confused.

  “Reliance! It was a key to what you value, what was missing from your life,” Caroline explained.

  “I do trust you, Caroline,” Bradford admitted. “But as for the jealousy, I can’t promise. I’ll try,” he vowed. He told her he loved her again, finding a freedom and joy he didn’t know possible with just the simple acknowledgment, and made love to her, slowly this time. He built the fires with calculating accuracy, knowing exactly where to touch, how to give her the pleasure he had fantasized about all the nights he was apart from her.

  He loved her with an intensity that caused her to weep again.

  “I love you, Caroline,” Bradford said, squeezing her against him.

  “I’ll never tire of hearing it.”

  It took a moment for Bradford to remember that those were the exact words he had used with her. He smiled, appreciating her humor.

  “Bradford? When did you know? When did you realize that you loved me?”

  “It wasn’t a bolt of lightning,” Bradford told her. Caroline was stretched out on her back and Bradford propped himself on one elbow to look at her.

  He grinned over her disappointed look and was forced to kiss the frown away before he continued. “You were like a splinter under my skin,” Bradford told her. “A constant bother.”

  Caroline laughed. “You are so romantic!”

  “As romantic as you are. I seem to remember you telling me that loving me was like having a stomachache.”

  “Bradford, I was irritated then,” Caroline confessed. “I was immediately drawn to you,” Bradford continued. “I would have taken you for my mistress and damned the consequences if you’d only been agreeable,” he admitted.

  “I knew it.”

  “But you weren’t like any other woman at all. The night we went to Aimsmond’s affair, you didn’t wear any jewels.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Caroline asked.

  “They weren’t important to you,” Bradford explained. He laughed, thinking of his stupidity, and confessed, “I did try to buy your affection with the gifts, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” Caroline told him, pleased that he recognized it. “And you’ve been perfectly horrid to me as well. Did you know the state of this place when you sent me here?”

  Bradford grimaced and reluctantly nodded. “I was angry, Caroline. You were rejecting everything I had to offer,” he added with a shrug.

  “Not everything,” Caroline whispered. Her voice had turned serious now, as serious as her expression. “I only wanted your love and trust.”

  “I understand that now,” Bradford returned. “Would you be content to live with me in the country the rest of your life?”

  “I would live in the heart of London’s slum with you as long as you love me,” Caroline answered. “I do like the country life. I was raised on a farm, after all!”

  “And do you think you’ll learn to call England home?” he asked.

  “Well, I must admit that it has been a difficult adjus
tment. It was so much calmer in Boston, Bradford. No one was pushing me down steps or writing horrid letters. And I don’t think anyone hated me enough to try to kill me. And some of the gentlemen here are without morals! Have you noticed that? Of course,” she rambled on, “we have our share of scoundrels in the Colonies as well, but they don’t dress as gentlemen.”

  Bradford smiled. “You’ve had your share of difficulties,” he admitted. “But I’ll watch out for you.”

  “I know you will,” Caroline replied. “And I have met some very nice people. England is home now.” She sighed and snuggled against her husband, vastly content. “It isn’t boring, I can tell you that.”

  “My sweet, life is never boring for you,” Bradford returned. “Benjamin told me about the mischief you caused in Boston. Your father should be thankful that his brother had to chase you when you were growing up. I understand you were quite a handful.”

  “I was always quiet and shy,” Caroline announced with conviction. She gathered her husband didn’t agree with her evaluation, as he let out a shout of laughter. “Well, I tried to be quiet and shy,” she confessed. “And I think that my father wished that I was with him during those fourteen years.”

  “I know that he did,” Bradford returned. His expression turned intent and he added, “He made a sacrifice for you, Caroline.”

  She nodded. “I’m sure that he did, but I don’t understand the reason. Do you think that someday he’ll tell me?”

  Bradford remembered how Caroline’s father had begged him not to tell Caroline about the accident and his promise that he would tell her after the danger had passed. He realized, now, that he was wrong to keep the truth from her. She was his wife, his love, and they should share the worries as well as the joys together. “Your father paid me a visit while I was in London. He told me about an incident that happened almost fifteen years ago.

  “One night, some men came to your father’s house. His country home,” he qualified. “You were asleep but must have heard the noise and came downstairs. The men tried to kill your father and you accidentally shot one of them.”