Something had changed between them; barriers had broken after that kiss on the side of the road—and of course, the matter of her climbing on top of him in her bedchamber.
But it was more than that. She blushed and dismissed the embarrassing scene from earlier.
“Do you feel betrayed by him too?” She’d wondered. Was Luke also disappointed in Arthur or did men take this sort of thing in stride?
He didn’t answer right away.
“Not the same as you.” His breath warmed the side of her neck. “But he lied to his comrades. He allowed us to believe he was clear-headed—focused. And I can’t help but believe that he might have been distracted—that it’s possible he was vulnerable because of the problems he’d made for himself at home. His vulnerabilities affected our unit. He could have come clean with me at any point, and I might have realized he wasn’t the best person for that particular mission. Were there signs that I missed? Could his death, could the loss of five men have been prevented? I hate everything he did to you. It was unforgivable. But I’m also sick that I didn’t realize he was hiding it. If I’d known he was distracted, I might not have sent him out that day.”
It wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
“I didn’t think about that.”
“We train, we plan, and we strategize. But in the end, it often comes down to listening to your gut instinct. And that involves alerting all of your senses. It might be too quiet, for instance. Or a branch snaps when it shouldn’t. The ground is softer or harder than it ought to be. And it’s your responsibility, your duty, to put all of that together and decide if the territory is safe.”
“And that was Arthur’s job?”
“It was his job but my responsibility.”
“You can’t do everything, Luke.” He would feel guilt over the ambush for a long time though. He was that sort of man.
He slid his arms down her shoulders and settled them around her, just below her breasts. “I tell myself that all the time.”
“You need to listen to yourself. You’re very wise.”
He kissed the side of her face for that. “Wise eh?” And then, after exhaling a deep sigh, he released her and stepped away. “I’ll have to mark this day on my calendar: Naomi admits Luke is wise.”
She snickered and glanced over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Luke.”
“Goodnight, Naomi.”
Chapter Twelve
Sitting at the small writing desk in her bedchamber—alone—Naomi opened her journal and read words that she could never have imagined writing in a thousand years.
About Luke.
His words from earlier rolled around in her mind and she never wanted to forget them.
I will make love to you. I promise you that. But not now. Not like this… your clothing would be strewn around the floor already. And I’d be learning every inch of you—savoring… the taste between your silky thighs. And when you are ready, I’ll know the heaven of being inside of you.
She read through her words—his words, shivering a little inside—no less than ten times, before closing the journal and sliding it into the drawer. Someday, when she was an old woman, she would read through them again and remember that she’d once invoked passion in a very handsome gentleman—Lord Major Lucas Cockfield.
She drew the counterpane down, climbed underneath, and curled into a ball, tucking her hands between her knees. When she closed her eyes, Luke’s image came to mind. She’d had his hair threaded through her fingers. Everything about him was hard, strong, dependable, and seemingly unbreakable. The baby soft texture of his hair had surprised her.
And now she wondered what his hair would feel like against the skin of her legs, her thighs, her belly. The vision it evoked caused her breath to hitch and her heart to race.
Silky thighs…
Arthur had touched her there, but he’d never…
Her hand crept up from her knees to flesh that was more sensitive, and then wet.
Luke had said he would taste her. His lips would be tender but demanding.
Naomi stroked her fingers along her own intimate flesh. His tongue would be wet, hot. His whiskers would feel rough. She dipped her fingers inside and then out. She was wicked and wanton. Would she feel his teeth? She stroked herself harder. He’d use his hands on her as well. How many times had she watched him wield a tool with precision and confidence? He would be confident in this. Naomi arched her back, pressing the flat of her palm against herself, rubbing. It had been so long. She’d ignored the need for so very long.
I will make love to you. I promise you that. Naomi rolled onto her back and was circling her palm over her mons. In her mind, it was his face between her legs. She’d press him closer.
Your clothing would be strewn around the floor.
Naomi brought her other hand up and over her belly to cradle her breast. Her body jerked in response.
And I’d be learning every inch of you
She slid her middle finger in and out, and rubbed her hand over other places needing friction.
—savoring the taste between your silky thighs.
Silky thighs…
Naomi threw her head back, arching into her hand. Luke. Luke.
And when you were ready
She was so close. His face. His tongue. His mouth. His tongue. His tongue. And then.
His member. Thick. Hot.
I’d know the heaven of being inside of you.
She cried out and then gasped at the pleasure coursing through her. This was so wrong. So very wrong. But it felt so good.
She arched again, and again, allowing the sensations to crash over and then roll through her. Until gradually, they subsided, leaving her relaxed, sprawled on her bed, her bones the consistency of pudding.
If only Luke was here to cuddle her. Being with him was a dream. A dream of what could have been. It hadn’t been fair—what she’d demanded of him this afternoon. She’d wanted to use him to make herself feel better. To make her feel something good for a change. And although she’d known he would have found pleasure as well, it wouldn’t have been fair. Because how could she ever trust herself again where love was concerned? She’d been convinced Arthur had loved her and he’d been convincing another woman at the same time. Luke was speaking all the right words. Doing all the right things. But he was a young man who had his entire life ahead of him.
She was… used.
Being a widow was going to be lonely indeed.
A thumping sound. A tortured shout. Naomi bolted upright. Was someone breaking into the house? Awareness slowly returned. Ester wasn’t here but Naomi wasn’t in the house alone. Luke was across the hall. Another anguished cry had her swinging her feet off the side of the bed and onto the cold floor. Was he ill?
Not taking the time to put on a dressing gown, she rushed across her room and out into the hallway only to halt at his door. “Luke? Are you all right?”
When he didn’t respond, she pushed it open and peered inside.
A shaft of moonlight provided just enough light to see him thrashing and turning, caught up in the quilt twisted around his waist.
“Down!” he shouted. “Get down, damnit!” And then he jerked and tucked his head into his hands.