Never Trust a Rogue (34 page)

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Authors: Olivia Drake

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Man-woman relationships, #Love stories, #Historical, #Historical fiction, #London (England), #Murder, #Investigation, #Aristocracy (Social class) - England, #Heiresses

BOOK: Never Trust a Rogue
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“When?” he muttered against her ear. “How quickly can you plan our nuptials?”

She laughed. “I don’t know; I hadn’t thought about it. But considering what we’re doing here, it had best be soon.”

“Agreed.” He brushed back a strand of her hair, laying kisses over her face. “After I take you back to London tomorrow, I can apply to the bishop for a special license. Then it’s only a matter of choosing a time and place.”

Lindsey caught her breath. “Oh, Thane. We could be wed in a day or two.”

“Yes.” His dark eyes searched hers. “Unless, of course, you prefer a formal affair at St. George’s with all of society in attendance.”

The previous summer, Portia and Colin had celebrated such a grand wedding. As much as Lindsey had enjoyed being her sister’s maid of honor, she dreaded all the fuss and the myriad details of preparation.

She gave a firm shake of her head. “None of that matters to me. It would make me so happy to be your wife as soon as possible. Although I cannot imagine being more blissful than I am right now.”

A brash grin crooked one corner of his mouth. “I can.”

Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her to the bed. The world tilted dizzily and she found herself lying on the mattress, the sheets cool against her fevered back. He bent over her, brushing a kiss across her lips before stepping back to draw off his shirt.

Turning onto her side, Lindsey watched in fascination, admiring the ripple of muscle across his chest and arms, the flatness of his belly. She marveled at the broad-shouldered perfection of his form. In India, she’d seen shirtless men on the street, but none of them had stirred her blood like her husband-to-be.

Husband
. Never would she have dreamed a month ago that Thane would capture her heart so completely. Now she felt a zeal to join her life with his, to speak her vows to him, to claim him as her own.

Quite casually he unbuttoned his breeches and stepped out of them. The glow of the fire illuminated him in full male glory, and the sight stirred a pulse of raw desire deep inside her. The sensation of throbbing dampness grew between her legs. It was carnal passion, a passion she felt for no man but him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, unashamed in his nakedness. Shaping his hand around her breast, he idly plied the tip through the thin fabric of her chemise. His serious eyes met hers. “I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he said. “But I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I could never be, Thane. Not with you.”

To prove it, she glided her fingers down his shaft. How very hot and hard he felt, yet silken to the touch. He sucked in a breath, letting her explore him at will. His face reflected both torture and intense pleasure. Purely on impulse, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to him.

“Vixen!” Pushing her back against the pillows, he came down over her. “We’ll savor each other, not see this matter to a swift conclusion.”

He kissed her again in a long and leisurely feast of the senses. All the while, she let her hands roam to acquaint herself with his body. After a time, he drew back to slowly strip off her chemise, nuzzling the skin he exposed. He dropped the garment to the floor and then lay beside her, running his fingertips over her naked curves.

His eyes alive with smoky fire, he leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth. At the swirling of his tongue, she threaded her fingers in the thickness of his hair to encourage him. The ribbon of desire inside her pulled taut, tugging at her loins. When he turned his attention to her other breast, she moaned from a blend of enchantment and frustration. Why was he tormenting her? He must know where she craved his attention most. Oh, how she burned to repeat the rapturous moment he’d shown her only once before.

“Thane, please . . . oh,
please
 . . .”

“Shh, darling,” he said hoarsely. “You’ll have your fill of pleasure tonight. I promise you that.”

He smoothed his hand down her belly, and she parted her legs in breathless anticipation. At long last, his finger slid into her damp folds to play with her, lightly at first, then with increasing intensity. His stroking ignited a firestorm that centered in her core. She lay back, consumed by the torturous excitement that had her panting and pleading, her hips moving in search of surcease.

His ministrations stopped abruptly. Bemused, she looked down to see him bend his head to her, and then his tongue caressed her as he’d done to her breasts. The shock of his action swiftly faded beneath a wave of scandalous delight. He seemed to know exactly how to drive her to the brink of madness. Within moments she tumbled into a vast pool of bliss, sobbing out his name.

While she lay dazed and happy, Thane enveloped her with his body and slowly penetrated her. She clung to him, gasping, instinctively lifting her hips to ease the sting of his entry. The slight pain was surpassed by the marvelous sense of him inside her. She wanted to weep from the joy of it. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this feeling of voluptuous fullness, of knowing they were joined as one.

Kissing her brow, he held himself still. “How perfect you are,” he murmured hoarsely. “I swore . . . I wouldn’t make love to you until we were married. But you’re irresistible.”

The firelight illuminated the tension on his scarred face, reminding her that he had delayed his own satisfaction for her sake. Craving his enjoyment, she undulated her body to draw him even deeper into herself. His heartfelt groan rewarded her. The desire she’d thought slaked now returned to torment her again, even more intensely this time.

He began to move within her, and together they found a rhythm that pulled her ever deeper into the dark throes of passion. They kissed and caressed until she lost the capacity to think, until she was slick with perspiration and half-sobbing for release. When the storm broke, the pressure of his thrusts transported her from one glorious spasm to the next. Through the cloud of her own rapture came his cry of release.

Lindsey drifted back to an awareness of him sprawled
over her. Against her breasts, the beating of his heart gradually slowed to a normal pace. Contentment spread like warm honey through her limbs. She felt replete and drained, unable to string two thoughts together.

After a time, he shifted position slightly so that he lay beside her, his arms still cradling her close. The fire had died down and the chamber had grown darker. Listening to the rain pattering on the windowpanes, she marveled at how cozy and right it felt to be lying here with Thane. Never had she imagined that lovemaking could be so wonderful.

Releasing a contented sigh, she trailed her fingers through his hair. He was watching her in the semi-darkness. “Heaven on earth,” she murmured.

He flashed her a cocky grin. “You’re not sorry, then, that you gave up on your spinsterhood?”

“That was the dream of a very foolish girl.” Lindsey stretched against the sheets, entangling her legs with his. “I’m amazed at how natural it feels to lie here with you like this.”

“We belong together, that’s why. For always.”

Thane meant every word. No other woman had stirred such a sense of possessiveness in him. Gazing into her lovely face, he felt a clench in his chest, a richness of emotion that he didn’t care to examine. He knew only that he wanted to keep Lindsey with him forever, that he would kill any man who dared to touch her. . . .

He inhaled sharply as her fingers drifted down to his groin. She looked like a goddess of love with her bare-breasted beauty, a sultry wisdom in her eyes. Aiming a flirtatious smile at him, she asked, “Will we make love again?”

Chuckling, he brushed back a strand of chestnut hair from her cheek. “Have pity; you’ve drained all my strength. At least give me a chance to recover.”

She continued her bold exploration, exhibiting an uncanny gift for finding his most receptive places. Hell, every part of him was receptive to her. She could arouse him with just a glance.

“How long must I wait?” she asked.

In defiance of human limitations, his body was recovering with spectacular swiftness. “With you, apparently no time at all.”

Pulling Lindsey close, he kissed her again, a long and leisurely feast of the senses. He couldn’t get enough of her. The stirring of primal urges caused a rush of irresistible heat to his loins. But he wouldn’t hurry, not when the long night ahead promised them many hours of pleasure.

He concentrated on stoking her passion, controlling himself even when he was buried deep inside her again. This time, they made love slowly, touching and whispering sweet nothings, gazing into each other’s eyes. It surprised him to realize he enjoyed their bantering as much as the physical act itself. With all other women, he had never wanted to linger as he did with Lindsey. The closeness of their minds and souls unleashed a world of incomparable pleasure that went on and on.

Beset by idyllic exhaustion afterward, he held her in his arms. Her eyes drifted shut as she snuggled against him, her arm slipping around his waist. “Mmm,” she murmured, her lips against his throat. “I do love you, Thane. So very much.”

In lieu of a reply, he brushed a kiss across the top of her hair. He couldn’t speak; his throat felt too taut. No one had ever spoken those words to him until today, and her declaration discomfited him.

Something soft and powerful tightened his chest. Was it love? He couldn’t be certain. He knew only that he wanted to keep her close like this for the rest of their lives.

Her breathing became even as her body relaxed into
slumber. But despite his physical satiation, Thane found himself alert, unable to shake the irrational fear that he might lose her somehow. He would never forget the sick dread that had spurred him on the hard ride to find her today. If not for her intrepid actions, she might have been the next victim of the Serpentine Strangler.

The notion made his blood run cold.

The dying fire cast flickering shadows over the wall. Cradling her in his arms, he stared at the night-darkened window. Wrayford was out there somewhere. With any luck, he would catch a chill and die. Of course, that would rob Thane of the satisfaction of smashing his fist into the man’s face. He would have done so tonight if the man hadn’t already lain moaning on the ground.

Lindsey stirred slightly, sighing in her sleep. Awash with tenderness, Thane carefully arranged the blankets over her. She would be his wife and he would protect her with his life. Wrayford would never again have the opportunity to trap her.

But who would the villain turn his attention to next?

The question kept Thane awake long into the night. He couldn’t shake the uneasy sense that he was missing some vital clue. And that if he failed to solve it, Lindsey might yet be in grave danger.

Chapter 25

Lindsey stepped though the open gate and into the small garden. It seemed surreal to be back in London after such an eventful change in her life. At this early hour, wispy streamers of mist still clung to the rosebushes. She loved the strength of Thane’s hand gripping hers as he drew her down the winding stone path toward the town house beside his.

Marveling anew at the night they’d shared, she drank in the sight of him, so tall and masculine. They had arisen before dawn to make love one last time. It had been a swift, hard coupling, for he had been determined to make haste back to the city.

The roads had been muddy, which had slowed their progress. The hour was nearing eight, and she knew he was concerned for her sake that a nosy neighbor would spy their arrival. His protectiveness only endeared him to her all the more.

What did a little gossip matter, anyway? She felt so absurdly happy that she would have announced their imminent nuptials on every street corner.

Upon reaching the veranda, he opened the door and allowed her to precede him indoors. The house lay silent, the corridor deserted. At this early hour, Jocelyn would
still be asleep in her chamber and the servants were likely below stairs, preparing for the day.

After a quick glance around, Thane drew her into a study that overlooked the garden. He took her into his arms, his hands cupping her face and his thumbs tracing her cheekbones. “Are you certain you want me to leave you here with Jocelyn?”

“It’s either that or go with you to procure the special license.”

He frowned down at her. “Certainly not. But there’s still time for me to take you home. I don’t care to worry your parents unduly.”

It was Mama’s own fault for sending Lindsey off on that picnic with Wrayford. But Lindsey didn’t want to think about that now. “I’ll send a note to my father,” she promised. “However, I shan’t tell them where I am. Mama would drag me home and imprison me in my bedchamber. That’s what she did last year to my sister Portia.”

“Hmm. I’ll concede to your superior knowledge of them. But this will certainly get me off on the wrong foot with them—if I haven’t done so already.”

“They’ll come around eventually,” she assured him, reaching up to stroke his bristled cheek. “Especially when they realize how very much there is to love about you.”

Thane’s hard features took on a hint of vulnerability that melted her heart. Drawing her close, he kissed her soundly and thoroughly, stirring all the beautiful longings that only he could fulfill. Then with a regretful look, he pulled back.

“I’m going next door to make myself presentable for the bishop. If all goes well, I should return within a few hours.” He ran his finger over her damp lips. “You’ll be safe here until then.”

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