Darkness Falls Upon Pemberley by Susan Adriani Read Free Book Online Page B

so. I’m no longer human . My body will never be able to receive yours the way a wife is meant to receive her husband. The risk to your life is far too great. I’ll never be able to give you children, or warm your bed on a cold night. My flesh will always feel like ice to your touch. Should I ever forget myself in a moment of ardency, my kisses could cause your death. I may be innocent, Mr. Darcy, but I’m not so naïve as to believe any man would desire to share his marital bed with a corpse any more than he’d desire to become one himself.”
    D arcy clenched his jaw. The illicit references Elizabeth made to husbands and wives and marital beds agitated the master of Pemberley every bit as much as did her bitterness and despair. He would never dream of dismissing any of her concerns, for they were entirely real and valid, but at the moment his mind was so overrun by provocative images that he found it difficult to focus on anything other than the prospect of tasting her lips as they shared a searing kiss, his hands on her body as he loved her in his bed, and her back arching in pleasure as he made her his in every possible way.
    Flushed with desire, he held her dark gaze until she finally lowered her eyes and turned away. Her breathing was uneven —as uneven, he noted, as his own harsh breaths. Seeing her thus did little to quell his need for her, and Darcy watched, transfixed, as she padded to the hearth and stood with her back to him. The soft glow of the fire illuminated her form from behind, affording him a scandalous glimpse of her silhouette through the translucent layers of her dressing gown and nightshift.
    Darcy swallowed audibly and ran slightly shaking fingers through his hair. He ’d be a complete fool to think a union between Elizabeth and he could ever be anything but dangerous. The intensity of their connection was far too powerful to be ignored. The flame of their attraction burned too bright to be extinguished by even the fiercest tempest. Surely, despite their differences, they’d be able to find some sort of common ground, though—a way to be intimate with each other physically; one that wouldn’t result in his demise. Perhaps, given time and familiarity… Darcy mused, completely enthralled by the contour of Elizabeth’s legs, the swell of her hips, and the gentle dip of her waist beneath the gossamer folds of her gown.
    The mantle clock struck four, its delicate chimes resounding almost sharply in the charged silence of the room. With some effort, Darcy wrenched his eyes from Elizabeth ’s person and trained them instead on the window across from his bed, breathing deeply as he struggled to get his emotions in hand.
    The sky, as seen through a narrow gap in the curtains, resembled a canvas of inky black; the very darkest hour before dawn. Darcy rubbed his eyes tiredly with the pads of his fingers, coug hing as he exhaled roughly. His spasms subsided quickly enough, but the urge to abandon his sickbed and go to the woman across the room, wrap her in his embrace, and assure her all would somehow be well was consuming. Before he could do much more than toss the counterpane aside, however, Elizabeth was at his side, easing him back upon the pillows, reminding him of his weakened health, and urging him to lay still.
    Emotionally and physically drained, Darcy allowed her ministrations without protest, his eyes t rained intently upon the familiar garnet cross around her neck. It swung gently from its short chain like a pendulum as she moved over him and arranged his bedding, the firelight lending the gemstone an almost bloody richness. Entranced, he lifted his hand and stilled it, holding it in his palm.
    The pendant was truly beautiful and felt smooth to his touch. Like its owner, an inexplicable sensation of warmth and comfort radiated from within it, making the polished stone seem anything but cold to him, despite the deathly temperature of Elizabeth’s flesh.
    Where the cross rested against the