Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 50

The two men parted ways outside the dining room. Cedric climbed the main stairs, thankful to be home again. His body knew this house as well as he knew himself. That awkwardness he often felt in London where there were more people, more dangers for a man who couldn't see, weren't present here at this house. In addition, he was becoming more sure of his body and his movements and far less clumsy. He knew where the stairs were, the location of each room he frequently used. Rushton Steading was a safe place.

It had been years since he'd spent more than a few days here. The past decade had been full of womanizing, horse racing and other such occupations that rakes engaged in, all in London of course. Leaving Rushton empty for so long had left him empty as well. The cool feel of the stair banister beneath his hand brought delightful memories of him sliding down it as a boy.

Lord, how he'd missed this place. It was home. Rushton Steading had always been home. Horatia and Audrey had toddled up these stairs in leading strings. He had scampered about the grounds collecting frogs and tadpoles to torture his tutors.

The halls still carried the ghostly scent of his mother's perfume. Cedric expected to hear his father's booming laugh from the library at any minute. He had been blessed to have parents who married for love and had deeply loved their children. There was nothing more wonderful, more special than a parent's love for their child and that child's love in return. And Cedric had loved his parents with all of his heart.

It never failed to escape his mind that he had been luckier than his sisters. Neither of them had really known their parents as he had. They'd been children when their parents died in a carriage accident. Horatia had also been hurt in the crash. To this day she did not speak of the accident and Cedric did not press her to.

It was hard for him to forget how fortunate he was. His friend Godric hadn't been so lucky. Godric's mother had passed away in childbirth, and her loss had driven Godric's father into dark periods filled with brutal rages. Compared to Godric's suffering, Cedric had lived a veritable fairytale. It was what he wanted with Anne, to have a life together built on love and trust.

Surely it isn't too late for us?

Cedric's hands closed around the doorknob to Anne's bedchamber. He'd started to twist the knob when the door suddenly gave way. He stumbled as he plunged forward and fell unexpectedly. He expected pain. It always came after the fall. But there was no pain. Only the soft, firm body that cushioned his fall. A sudden gasp filled his ears as the body jerked beneath him and the familiar scent of orchids exploded around him in an intoxicating rush.

"Anne!" Cedric fought to climb off her, panicked that he'd crushed her. But Anne's struggles under him only locked their bodies more tightly together. Cedric desperately tried to dampen his sudden arousal, but the sounds she made and her squirming made it impossible.

"Anne, darling, please stop that...I can't see where to...I'm trying to..." Cedric muttered in exasperation until Anne went limp beneath him. Biting back a groan as his body responded enthusiastically to this new position, he tried to focus. The press of her bosom against his chest and the cadence of her panting breaths were not helpful in the least as he sought to restore his self-control.

I must be a bloody cad for wanting her like this. He couldn't deny it, however. Cedric wanted to take her right there on the damned floor, even after all she'd been through in the past few weeks.

Anne's next words caught him completely off guard. "I remember that. You calling me Anne, darling." It was barely a whisper, but he knew what he heard. Anne placed her hands on his shoulders. Cedric wished he could see her face, but his memory of it was all he had left.

"I liked it when you called me that." Her confession was charming in its shyness.

"Damn," he cursed to himself.

There was no escaping his desire after that. He dropped his head and found her lips. Anne's hands fluttered against his neck before settling on his back. Pleasure coursed through him when her fingers dug into his shoulder blades, drawing him closer to her. He wanted more, wanted to taste all of her, but the tremulous quiver in her lips and the hesitancy of her touch turned to tension. His aching need for her plunged him into icy awareness. He couldn't have her, not yet.

"What's wrong?" Her warm breath fanned against his throat.