Heaven And Hell novel Chapter 59

"You're here, too?" Michael queried, making me jump a bit.

I closed my eyes, massaging my legs, holding the book close to my heart. "Duh."

His frustrated face started to change boyishly. He then began grinning. "Great, because I'd rather be locked up in here for the whole day and night with you than by myself."

"We're what?" I demanded, leaning up on my elbows.

"Locked."

I rolled my eyes. "Great! That's just great. Perfect, really."

"Hey, at least give me some credit for wanting to be here with you instead of being alone." He actually looked hurt.

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

It wasn't easy apologising to this guy when he was looking sexily disheveled and slightly muddy from the race. Some guys who'd be in his state of dishevelment would probably look like a complete hobo, but when it came to Michael Cutting, it was just plain sexy.

Michael shut the door behind him, coming toward the bed in quick long strides. When he reached me, he sat on the bed behind my left hip. He looked at me for a moment without saying a word. I stared back, blinking up at his face. He didn't care about the dusty old diary I was hugging -- I didn't think he even noticed it. When stared at me, I could really connect with Lady Cutting. I still couldn't believe the diary belonged to her.

When Michael often looked at me, his silver eyes sparked, making me blush to the tips of my ears, as was what the countess had written. But I didn't blush...not this time.

Slowly, but without hesitation, I reached out a hand and brushed aside the stubborn lock of black hair clinging wetly to his forehead, gleaming with sweat and a dash of mud. He didn't flinch; he simply kept gazing at me intently. My fingers trailed down his forehead to his cheek, wiping a smudge of the earth with my thumb. And then I held the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. He went willingly, slowly.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he whispered to my lips, our foreheads and noses touching. I nodded.

He kissed me then, slow and gentle at first. When he felt me bite his lower lip shyly and softly, he groaned and kissed me harder and more fervently. Michael was half on half on my body, balanced on one elbow on the bed. The diary plopped onto the floor without anyone bothering to notice it.

His lips trailed down my jaw to my neck, my collarbone. I liked this, how he was kissing me. Michael is the only guy who has ever kissed me that way.

His breath became ragged as mine became shallow and heavy, but he kissed my lips again like he couldn't get enough. It was very cold outside but it was starting to get pretty heated inside the room. When his knee slightly knocked my thigh apart, I flinched and scowled.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, looking at me with concern as he panted.

I gulped. "Thighs. Pain. Can't move them well." Despite my state of agony, he laughed heartily. "Not funny," I snapped. "It hurts so bad!"

"A new rider always gets pain from horses when they ride them," he explained brightly. He got off me, making everything colder without his heat. I felt myself frown.

Well, so much for getting hot and heavy.

Michael stood in front of the bed with eyes on my legs. He lifted one leg up which made me yelp. He looked at me. "That bad?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

He grinned. "Just asking. Wouldn't want my fiancée to feel so much pain."

Alberca Cottage

Dearest Diary,

I am here in my room at Alberca, my little place where I can be myself.

I am sad.

Today I met Aurora Carter, the beautiful daughter of the Earl of Marshall. She is a young singer of only eighteen. She reminds me slightly of Audrey Hepburn with her dark hair and eyes, making her look mysterious and sultry. Many people see me as a replica of Grace Kelly and Sandra Dee combined, but seeing Aurora a while ago made me want to weep.

She is the ex-girlfriend of my fiancé, Maxwell! I am devastated and actually furious. Devastated for knowing that Maxwell had someone to love before me (I am not sure he loves me, but I do think he likes me quite well), and furious because Maxwell is FRIENDS with the silly old cow, as well as Aurora is breathtaking and such a...cellophane.

She was so nice to me but I could see in her dark eyes that she wants to bring me down and have Maxwell for herself again.

Well, I am not a young lady who is easily taken down. Though she is a daughter of Lord Marshall, I am Countess Lockley, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of St. Ives. I am a fighter!

Although, good heavens, Aurora did attract much attention earlier when her parents made her sing a song of Julie London's. She has a beautiful voice while I have the voice of a complete and utter pelican.

That's why Mama and Papa gave up offering me singing lessons.

I laughed at the last part, but I sobered when I felt the connection again. For some really weird reason, this was my life she was telling. But of course, it wasn't my life exactly she was telling here because it was dated back in 1950. Still. Aurora Carter resembled Natalie Wattson. They were both plastics (or cellophanes, as in Lady C's case). Also, Marge was sad and angry -- and jealous! She wanted to fight for Maxwell.