Reckless Viscount (42 page)

“This is more difficult than I expected.”

Abbigael heard the earnest uncertainty in his voice. That he would willingly reveal such vulnerability warmed her.

“Irish,” he began, meeting her gaze again with an intensity of purpose that made her stomach flip hazardously. “Swear you will never leave me again.”

Startled by the deep tone of his voice, Abbigael stuttered, “Leif, I…”

“Promise you will love me forever.”

She closed her eyes against his penetrating gaze, her entire body stiffened in defense. What was he playing at now? How could he demand such things from her while giving nothing of himself?

Tears slipped from beneath her lashes and she cursed the weakness of her body and spirit that made her dream she could do exactly as he wanted.

“How can you ask this of me now?” she whispered.

“Because I cannot live without you.” He tightened his arms around her and pressed his forehead to hers. His words flowed soft and warm over her face, drying the tracks of her tears. “I have been a coward and an idiot for thinking I had to protect you from myself. The stronger my feelings grew, the more distance I forced between us, thinking you were better off that way. And maybe you are, but I am selfish. After last night…”

The meaning of his words flooded Abbigael with relief so encompassing she didn’t know what to say. Gone were the honeyed tones of seduction and the teasing words of the charmer. In their place were sentiments that came straight from the heart. Abbigael knew this because they echoed in her own.

“Everything I have,” he continued, “this house, my dreams of the Neville legacy, mean nothing without you to share it. Everything I did was with you in the back of my mind. Every decision contained a thought toward what you would prefer. I have been walking around this house for months and have been seeing you everywhere in a thousand fine details. But it is not enough.”

He nudged her chin upward so she would meet his eyes again.

“You did not deserve to be tainted by my selfish machinations to gain your fortune. I should not have treated you the way I have so many others.”

“Leif, please stop.”

“No, I will never forgive myself for using your passionate nature against you.”

Abbigael shook her head and lifted her hand to press her palm against the rough stubble that grew along his jaw, forcing him to look into her eyes. His regret was clear and painful. She may have doubted his intentions in the past, but now she saw how obvious it had been all along. Only her own insecurity had kept her from seeing it sooner.

“Tell me something,” she urged gently. “All those times when you held me in your arms and kissed me and touched me…” she paused as she saw desire flickering deep beneath the shadows of his eyes. “Were you thinking of my fortune or Dunwood Park or anything beyond the pleasure we shared?”

His brows twitched upward, but she continued before he had a chance to respond.

“Even that last night in your study,” she said, ignoring the blush that warmed her cheeks at the memory, “when you tried so hard to keep yourself distant. Were you trying to manipulate me then?”

Leif coughed roughly, “It was all I could do not to carry you to the floor and claim you completely.”

“And was it the same with the women of your past?” Abbigael asked pointedly.

A flash of understanding crossed his face.

“No,” he whispered in reverence, his eyes bright with new awareness. “It has
never
been like that before.” Then he laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Dammit, Irish, why didn’t you tell me this before. It could have saved me a lot of torment these last months.”

Abbigael felt weightless with joy at Leif’s teasing admonishment.

“But then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of this moment,” she replied pertly.

He hugged her tight and chuckled at her response. “Tell me what I must do to be a worthy husband from this point forward.”

Abbigael reveled in his newfound confidence and love welled heavy and bright in her heart.

“Promise you will love me forever,” she said with a wide smile, repeating his previous demand.

“I swear it,” he declared with a note of fierce victory before claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss to seal the deal.

A plaintive wail escaped from between them and they looked down at their son starting to awaken in their combined embrace. The baby’s eyes had opened and he looked around with a blurry gaze as his arms flailed in his blankets.

“I think he’s getting hungry again,” Leif commented with a smile. He shifted his position in the bed and rose up on his elbow then looked at Abbigael with a raised eyebrow. “May I?”

She nodded, realizing he must have assisted in the babe’s nursing through the night.

Once he settled their son against her breast, he relaxed again beside her and stroked his hand gently down the baby’s back.

“You know, he will need a name,” Leif said thoughtfully.

Abbigael ran a finger over the sweet curve of her son’s cheek. Already it appeared that he would be fair and might carry some of the freckles that would announce his Irish ancestry.

“What do you think of Curran? It was my mother’s surname before her marriage.”

“Curran,” Leif echoed softly. “I love it. And I love you.”

About the Author

Amy’s love of romance began one summer when she was thirteen and complained of boredom. She ended up with one of her mother’s Barbara Cartland books and an obsessive interest that expanded from there. Her affinity for writing began with sappy pre-teen poems and led to a Bachelor’s degree with an emphasis on creative writing from the University of Minnesota—Twin Cities.

She writes in the early mornings while her young kids are still asleep and dreams of a future when she can write all day instead of going to her “other” job. In the evenings, Amy is a full-time wife and mother who enjoys pizza, wine and dark brooding heroes—namely, her husband.

Follow Amy’s tweets at
www.twitter.com/AmySandas
or visit her blog
amysandas.wordpress.com
.

Look for these titles by Amy Sandas

Now Available:

Rogue Countess

A passion neither of them wanted…and neither can deny.

Rogue Countess

© 2012 Amy Sandas

Anna Locke was once young, naïve and infatuated with the handsome Jude Sinclair. Until the charismatic “gentleman” showed his true colors by abandoning her on their wedding day.

In the years since, she has transformed herself into a confident, successful woman, independent of her errant husband’s aristocratic family in every way but name. When Jude unexpectedly returns demanding a divorce, she quashes the butterflies he still elicits, and resolves to show him she won’t be so easily cast aside.

Jude has come home to assume the responsibilities left to him upon his father’s death, and to finally end the marriage into which he was tricked. To his surprise, Anna is no longer an awkward, skinny girl with a furtive gaze. She has become a lush, enigmatic vixen with a dark gaze that shields secrets she seems determined to keep.

In their intimate war of wills, the heat of bold desire flares into passion—and casts light on a shared past tangled in lies and blackmail. But until Jude can win her trust and learn the truth, there will be no destroying the obstacles that loom darkly between them…and the love that should have been theirs.

Warning: This title contains a shockingly revealing sapphire gown, highly improper behavior at a masquerade, a tangled web of deception, and perhaps most scandalous of all, a fiery passion that flares to life between a husband and wife who have been estranged since their wedding day.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Rogue Countess:

Anna gasped again as his fingers continued to follow along the top edge of her gown. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, yet he only touched her with a light brushing of his fingertips. He wore no gloves, another thing a gentleman would never do. She had noticed with the very first stroke of his fingers that they were not soft and smooth, as they should have been. His touch was slightly callused.

She discovered she liked the feel of a man’s roughened hands on her skin.

He moved around behind her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brushed his fingers across the swollen rise of her breasts where they pushed over the top of her bodice. Her skin tingled with masterfully awakened sensitivity in the wake of his caress. He stalked her with his movements and his gentle touch soothed her at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat and she willed herself to remain in control.

This game wasn’t played through yet. Recalling that he had asked her a question, she sorted through the hazy corners of her mind for the appropriate answer.

“Would it matter if I had a husband?” Her reply was breathless.

“No,” he murmured just before he pressed his warm mouth to the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

Anna had to fist her hands to keep from jumping out of her skin at the sudden sensations wrought on her system. Her nerves hummed and vibrated like the strings of a violin. Her muscles grew heavy and weak as if they had been filled with sand. He pressed another hot kiss to the side of her throat and his palm covered the upper rise of her breast, pressing over the spot where her heart beat fiercely. At the same time, his other hand slid around her waist to pull her back against his chest.

Impressions of sparkling licks of flame erupted throughout her body as she tried to accustom herself to the feel of his mouth on her bare skin and his arm encircling her middle to hold her so intimately against him. His strength was unexpected, as was his unhurried and practiced mode of seduction. She could never have imagined the way her body reacted to the warmth of his hand covering her breast. She tried to remind herself what this elaborate masquerade was all about. But when he trailed a path of kisses across the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, she had to concentrate to keep her knees from giving way.

There was too much sensation, too much heat, too much fluttering reaction in her belly. She was grateful for the stiff binding corset, for surely he would have felt the wild quivering of her body beneath the steadying band of his arm.

“Relax,” he whispered behind her. “Your heart beats like a trapped bird beneath my hand. Do I frighten you?”

“I do not frighten easily,” Anna replied, though she doubted her words were very convincing.

“Then I excite you?” he pressed in a low voice.

“A lady wouldn’t answer such a query,” she replied. The pertness of her words softened with the long audible sigh as he lowered his mouth to kiss the spot below her ear where her pulse beat most fiercely.

“That’s all right,” Jude murmured, as he slid his hand from her breast up the length of her throat to press under her jaw. His gentle urging eased her head back and to the side. Anna’s eyes drifted closed just as his warm breath chased across her lips. “You already did,” he whispered.

Then his mouth lowered to claim hers in a burning kiss.

Oddly, Anna’s first thought was of Leif, and the one time he had stolen a kiss from her. He had been drunk and in a playful mood and had pulled her down into his lap and planted a kiss on her lips before she had even known it was coming. Although he’d apologized afterward, she hadn’t regretted it. It had been short and swift, and Anna remembered being grateful he hadn’t been in a state of mind to use his full arsenal of skills in that kiss. As it was, the experience had been more than pleasant and had left Anna just a bit shaken afterward.

But even that experience with one of the most practiced and celebrated lovers in England was nothing in comparison to what she felt the instant Jude’s lips touched hers.

The bright and flashing passion took her by surprise.

After no more than a second, Jude turned her in his arms and hauled her up against him in a full embrace. He growled quietly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to the kiss. She had no choice in the matter. Every bit of common sense had fled from her consciousness. She wanted to be closer. She wanted to feel more of his heat, more of the delicious desire pouring from his kiss.

Her fervent wish was granted as his hand slid into her carefully constructed coiffure to cup the back of her head. He positioned her so the kiss could go deeper. She drew a sharp breath, expanding her lungs and crushing her breasts against his solid chest. His tongue forced entrance and she gasped at the wicked sense of possession. Their tongues mated in a furious dance and she felt as though she may never get enough. The taste of his mouth was an intoxicating combination of fire and need, and the encompassing warmth of his arms secured her to him like a vice from which she had no wish to escape.

She was drowning, sinking deeply into the overwhelming desire that pulsed through her.

Wait!
This is all wrong
, a voice shouted in her head. Alarm speared icily through her body. She’d never intended the deception to go so far. She had underestimated the situation by drastic degrees.