Johanna Lindsey (22 page)

He was caressing her even as his mouth spread the fire. And she was aware of every touch because his fingers were so hot, or seemed to be. So was his body, pressed to her side. Immediately she felt chilled when she lost that heat.

She opened her eyes to find him standing beside the bed looking down at her as he methodically removed his shirt. There was such warmth in his eyes as they moved over her body that she didn’t doubt he liked what he was seeing, and that kept her from blushing. Nor did he take his gaze from her when one button gave him trouble. He merely ripped it off, tossed it aside, and then tossed the shirt as well. His chest was so wide. Her eyes were probably as admiring as his had been as she took her fill of the view he was giving her. She really did like seeing his bare skin. And she’d get to touch it now…

She began to blush when he started unfastening his pants. She held his eyes at that point, afraid to glance lower, but she was caught by the intensity of his gaze. He’d taken a risk, moving away from her, giving her a chance to regain her wits if she’d temporarily lost them and point a finger at the door. She had lost them, but then, she’d also decided to leave this night to fate, and fate seemed to be leaning in his direction.

And then the chance was gone. He rejoined her on the bed, let her feel the length of him pressed to her side as he kissed her again, deeply, with sublime expertise. It was a highly erotic moment for her, feeling so much male skin all at once. She curled toward him of her own volition, wrapping her arms around his neck, felt his hand curve over her side, around her hip, then pull one of her legs over his, giving her even more access to him.

There was a hard protuberance pressed against her belly, then with a brief adjustment, it slid along the crevice between her legs. Hot, hard, slick from her own excitement, he grasped her buttocks and glided her slowly along that length, back and forth, building a sweet tension that made her anxious and thrilled her at the same time. All the while his kiss got hotter, more possessive, more demanding of a response, and hers was growing wilder with each beat of her heart.

Suddenly he moved on top of her, rolling his hips over so he didn’t lose his position. Her arms and legs seemed to move of their own accord, twining about him. And there was a new pressure, very subtle at first, very enticing…

“Say yes, Maggie,” he whispered against her lips.

“No,” she gasped.

“Very well, as long as we both know you meant yes.”

She did, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. And the pressure was increasing. So was the tension. If something didn’t happen soon, she felt she would explode.

“But I’ll get that yes out of you later.”

The promise made her shiver, it was said so deeply. He wouldn’t. She just couldn’t see herself being that complacent about lovemaking. But it didn’t matter. As he’d guessed, he had her full agreement already.

And then it happened, what she assumed she’d been waiting for, a tearing that surprised her into opening her eyes briefly. It hadn’t hurt, but it hadn’t been all that pleasant, either. Yet no sooner did that thought flit across her mind than he sank deeply into her, and she knew that was what she’d been waiting for. Heat rushed through her, recharged, coalesced, then erupted.

“Good God, yes!” she gasped without thought as wave after wave of the most exquisite pleasure pulsed in her loins.

She heard his chuckle, entirely too triumphant, but she supposed that was all right, because he kissed her again as well, quite possessively. And thrust against her a few more times, prolonging her pleasure and gaining his own.

He said no more, but his lips rained tender kisses across her face before he moved to her side again. And he still wasn’t done with her. He pulled her half onto his chest, his arm around her, his hand caressing her ever so gently. It was a divine place to be just then. Sated, lusciously content, she fell asleep almost instantly.

I
F NIGHT AND DAY weren’t already clearly defined as being opposites, Margaret was shown a new difference that morning. Whereas during the night she had been in complete accord with what was happening between her and Sebastian, the morning roused in her self-reproach and some flaming blushes.

She sat on the edge of her bed, refusing to look behind her where Sebastian lay sleeping. She stared instead at the clothes scattered on the floor by her feet, his clothes. Tidy he wasn’t. And a button that had rolled and come to rest in the middle of the room gleamed brightly in the morning light. The image returned of him ripping it off…

She quickly found her nightgown where he’d tossed it aside and covered herself while she swept up his clothes and dumped them on the chair, then gathered her own clothing for the day. She hoped it was early enough for her to dress and leave the room before Edna arrived to help, but she had no idea what time it was. And no such luck. The soft knock came, and as usual, Edna poked her head around the door to see if Margaret was awake yet. She couldn’t miss the lump in the bed, or that Margaret wasn

’t in it.

She quickly summoned her maid into the bathroom with her. Edna might assume that Margaret had slept in the bathroom instead. No, Edna’s frown said she didn’t think that a’tall, especially when she glanced at the pile of bedding, which was exactly as she’d left it.

With a pointed glare, Edna demanded, “Have you lost all your good sense?” Margaret sighed. “No, just a bit of it. I won’t lie. My curiosity got the better of me. But we’re supposed to be married, and we will be getting a divorce, so no real harm was done.” Edna humphed, “Unless you get yourself with child.”

“A child! Don’t even…”

Margaret didn’t finish. The thought of a child, Sebastian’s child, gave her such pause, she realized it quite thrilled her for a moment. How she’d love to be a mother and hold her own baby in her arms. Her only regret about not having married yet was that she had no little ones of her own.

“I think we should go home so this sharing of rooms doesn’t need to be part of the pretense,” Edna suggested reasonably. “We don’t live so far away that you can’t come here each day to check on the earl.”

Margaret bit her lip in indecision. “You’re right, of course, except Sebastian has his foot in the door. This is where he needs to be to accomplish what I hired him for, and until Douglas kicks him out again…no, we’ll stay here as long as we’re welcome. But what happened last night isn’t going to happen again. I’ve already rethought the matter.”

“Some sense at last,” Edna said, her tone still disapproving. “And you might want to hurry dressing. The doctor is downstairs and wants to speak to you. And Abigail is waiting to go on that trip to Edgeford you promised her.”

“Goodness, why didn’t you say so?” Margaret said, and hurried downstairs as soon as she was presentable.

Sebastian had set a new plan in motion. It would probably be his only chance to get Juliette alone. He didn’t expect to be welcome in Edgewood beyond tomorrow, since he was going to speak to his father in the morning. His gut instinct guessed a quick eviction thereafter. His gravestone, which Douglas had erected in his mind, would be the deciding factor. So he had concluded it would be today or never if he was going to get any answers, and never didn’t suit him.

He had been the one to suggest that Margaret and his grandmother enjoy a shopping expedition to Edgeford today, to take their minds off of Douglas for a little while. As soon as they left, Denton was going to be summoned to the stable at John’s insistence. Sleeping powder mixed with sugar would at least make it appear that something was wrong with Denton’s horse to keep him there for a short while.

And that would leave his prey temporarily alone. He was counting on her returning to her room as soon as Denton left the house, rather than risk running into Sebastian before Denton got back from the stables.

Juliette didn’t disappoint him. She opened the door to her room without thinking to check inside it first. Sebastian closed the door for her.

“Dieu!”
she gasped, swung around, then gasped again. “Get out! Get out now or I scream!” She was already doing that, at least her voice was above shouting level. Ironically, her many loud fights with Denton meant that no one would pay any attention to it.

But in case she didn’t realize that, he said, “Do so and I might have to put my hands around your neck for a little silence.”

She glanced about frantically, probably for a weapon to use in holding him at bay. She should have moved out of his reach instead, but she didn’t, which made it a simple matter to grasp her and shove her up against the wall, one hand about her throat to hold her there.

“Denton swore you would not kill me!” she said with some defiance, glaring up at him.

“After eleven years’ absence, Denton doesn’t know me very well.” That simple statement, which was quite true, put the fear in her eyes, but her tone was still defiant when she demanded, “What do you want?”

“Answers. You’re going to tell me why you manipulated that duel between Giles and me.”

“But I did not—!”

He squeezed her neck just hard enough to cut her off. “Let’s get something clear before this goes any farther. I said answers, not lies or denials. We both know what happened in London. You instigated that rendezvous between us for an ulterior motive. What was it?” There was a long moment of silence. She was determined not to answer him. His patience was occasionally his salvation. Much as he’d like just to break her neck, he refrained. But he did despise her, he was surprised at how much. In his mind, she was single-handedly responsible for destroying the life he

’d known. And there was nothing he regretted more than having sex with her that night in London. He wasn’t even sure what he’d seen in her, other than an easy conquest. He hadn’t much cared where he found his gratification in those days. The ignorance of youth.

His own silence was the catalyst. She probably feared that more than his threats; at least it opened a can of spoiled beans.

“It—it was to punish him! He begs me to marry him, then he acts as if he were ashamed he did so.

He hid me in London. Hid me while he went to confess what he had done to his father and his fiancée.

As if it were such a horrible thing he had done. I was furious with him. I never should have agreed to marry such a coward.”

Oddly, it sounded like the truth, something a selfish, self-centered woman would do. But he reminded himself that he didn’t know her well enough to judge that. And her eyes were telling him something different. There was calculation in them, but also frantic thought, suggesting she could be weaving lies as they came to her. But again, he simply didn’t know her well enough to be sure either way.

“So you get your husband killed just because you think you made a mistake?” Sebastian tried again.

“No! That duel was not supposed to happen. You English, you overreact to such things.”

“Then what did you think would happen, when you told him you’d slept with his best friend?”

“I told you, it was just to punish him, to shame him. I thought you might fight, you and him, and you, being the bigger, would hurt him a little. No more than that. It was what I felt he deserved. Not death. I never wanted that.”

“And what I would feel mattered not at all in your scheme of things? You merely used me as a tool to teach your husband a lesson?”

She actually flushed. Contrived? He didn’t think so, but he had no way of knowing for sure.

“It sounds terrible, I know,” she said. “You—you were just a means to an end, yes. I am sorry for that. But I have a terrible temper and my anger was guiding me. I did not think beyond that.”

“You rarely think about anything but yourself, do you, m’dear?” Denton remarked, having just opened the door.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder and saw that his brother appeared perfectly calm. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to say I was given quite a different version of what happened between you two.”

“Ah, yes, that I was the seducer. Of course, she couldn’t give me that version when she and I know better. I think I would have been much more inclined to believe she was overcome with lust for me and couldn’t help herself.”

“Wounded, are you?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Bastards! The both of you!” Juliette snarled over their English humor, then at her husband. “I could not tell you I was punishing Giles. You are my husband. I did not want you to think I would do the same to you!”

Denton lifted a brow at her. “But haven’t you? In so many ways?” Instead of answering, she pulled at Sebastian’s fingers, which were still around her neck. He didn’t want to let go. He had a dozen more questions for her but knew he wouldn’t get the answers now—