Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

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Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 22

by Olivia Bennet


  She groaned, loud and without pause, wanting him, the burst of sensation following his lips wherever they went.

  “Goodness, I want you,” Isaac whispered into her ear.

  “Then have me,” she said, hand still teasing him, letting her tongue lick the edges of his lips, and he looked at her, unsure whether to believe her.

  “I can’t,” he said, “not yet.”

  She tilted her head to look at him curiously.

  “Do you not want me?”

  “Yes, heavens. More than anything right now,” he said, his hand tracing the curve of her stomach, the shape of her hips.

  “Then why stop? I want more than anything to know what it feels like. I cannot stop thinking about it.”

  “But we can’t, we will—”

  “Yes,” she breathed, “yes, we can.”

  He let his hand run down to her thighs, fingertips teasing her flesh. She shivered beneath his touch, and almost without thinking, she parted her legs, offering herself to him.

  “We can,” she said again, her head pushed back against the pillow, her mouth open in a moan.

  He kissed her exposed neck, nudging the hair out of his way with his nose and letting his tongue run down the length of her until it came to a stop at her breastbone. He kissed her chest while his fingers searched and probed.

  “Do it,” she said, “do it.”

  He stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes.

  “I cannot take your maidenhood,” he said, his tone serious. “But we can enjoy each other without that.”

  “Then let’s,” she said, looking at him with an equal sincerity. “I want you, Isaac. I want to feel you.”

  He pushed his hand further between her legs until a single finger slid across the moistness and into her. She gasped, laughed, and gasped again, as he pushed, again and again, into her.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes,” she cried.

  “Shh,” he said, pushing his lips on hers to quieten her. “We mustn’t be discovered.”

  “Again,” she said, her voice a rasp. The pleasure hit her hard, thundering through her body and making her shiver. Her flesh quivered, her breasts shuddering with the movement and she threw her head back once more. “Again.”

  And he obeyed her command, pushing into her again until her face was strained with the effort of not screaming out her delight, of staying quiet despite the droves of pleasure that washed through her.

  When she finally calmed and lay beneath him, spent and sweaty and with a broad smile on her face, he withdrew, lay next to her, and kissed her shoulder.

  “I love you, Diana Allen.”

  Chapter 27

  Isaac awoke the following morning, not entirely convinced he had not dreamed the night before. He hadn’t, of course, taken her maidenhood. He would not sully her so before they were married. But still, the night had been one of such passion and lust that he was embarrassed to think of it that morning. She had been bold in her longing, and that had both surprised and pleased him.

  And once she had taken what she so desired, she scurried back to her own room, a smile broadening on her rosy cheeks as he lay back in bed and dreamed of the day they could be together as man and wife.

  As he dressed, he could not stop smiling and, as he checked himself in the looking glass, he suspected he looked a little different. It was not merely physical gratification she had craved, but they had celebrated their love so completely that Isaac knew, without doubt and without concern, that he could never hurt her.

  I know which path I must choose.

  He had some errands to attend to that day which took him back to Gallonon Hall, and while he was there, he would have a frank conversation with his brother. He had been awake until the early hours of the morning, considering his next move and wondering what to do for the best.

  His love for Diana had only grown in the previous days, and the less time he spent with Thomas, the clearer his head seemed to be. So much so, that Isaac came to the conclusion that Thomas was poisoning him with his own bitterness—intentionally or not. He simply couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Thomas,” he said as he marched into the drawing room, determined. “We need to talk.”

  “Ah, good afternoon, Brother,” Thomas said. He lounged on the sofa again, brandy decanter in hand. It was nearly empty, but Isaac suspected it had been refilled more than once since his departure. He raised it as though in toast to Isaac’s entrance, but Isaac shook his head at the sight.

  “Drunk again, I see,” Isaac said, taking a seat opposite him. He frowned at Thomas, at the state he was in, and Isaac found himself wondering how he had been so fooled by such a man.

  If he can even be called that.

  “What else is there to do in this cold and lonely house but to drink?”

  It seemed to Isaac that Thomas could barely keep his eyes open, let alone hold a rational conversation, so much so that Isaac suspected him of drinking the whole night through. But he knew he had to try.

  “It is only cold and lonely by your own making,” Isaac said.

  “Is that so?” Thomas asked, slurring as he spoke. He struggled into a sitting position and glared at Isaac. “And is my own Brother cold to me, too? When he deserted me?”

  “Not intentionally cold, no,” Isaac said. He sat in the chair opposite the sofa and looked sadly at Thomas. How Isaac wished he could bring light to his brother’s life, instead of his brother bringing darkness upon them both. He loved Thomas and he didn’t want to hurt him, but he didn’t want to live in the shadows any longer, even if that meant accepting Lord Estnell’s failings in order to marry his daughter.

  “How is it going with that stupid girl?” Thomas asked, then giggled like a child. Isaac looked at him, disgust on his face. “Is she well? Have you been leading her down a merry path towards her own doom?”

  He is so sure of himself.

  “She is well, yes,” Isaac snapped, his jaw rigid and furious. “But she is not a stupid girl. I’ll have you know that Lady Diana is both intelligent and witty.”

  “Careful, Brother,” Thomas said. He pointed at Isaac with the decanter, his eyebrows raised and his voice high. “You’re sounding dangerously in love. In fact, every time I see you, you are a little more enamored with the girl. You need to remember she is a mere pawn in our game. She is not even someone who is worthy of love. She is an Estnell, after all.”

  “No,” Isaac said. “You be careful, Thomas.” His voice was calm but sharp, his eyes looked at Thomas from under his lashes. He forced his anger under control, but he had to tell his brother what he felt. “She does not deserve to be spoken of in that way, and she certainly does not deserve the treatment you have planned for her.”

  “I have planned?” Thomas asked. “Don’t you mean we, dear Brother? It is not my plan alone, remember.”

  “Yes, well,” Isaac said, not able to make eye contact with Thomas. This was the moment he had dreaded, the very words that had kept him awake long into the small hours of the morning. “About that. I do not wish to be part of your absurd plan any longer.”

  “Absurd plan?” Thomas rose unsteadily from the sofa and staggered to loom over Isaac. Isaac didn’t back away, he didn’t move, he simply looked his brother in the eye.

  “I have gone along with you for far too long, Thomas. It ends now. I cannot continue.”

  “So you don’t care that Father was killed then?” Thomas asked, waving the decanter wildly in the air. Isaac watched the crystal bottle carefully and he rose from his seat, wanting to stand eye-to-eye with Thomas. He had sat too long while his brother danced around him.

  “Of course I care,” Isaac said, slow and firm, although simmering beneath the surface. “But this plan for revenge is nothing more than cruelty. Especially to Lady Diana, who has done nothing at all wrong.”

  “She is his daughter, for goodness sake, Isaac!” Thomas wobbled, uncertain on his feet, but he began to pace the room all the same.

  “I appreciate that,”
Isaac said, keeping his voice as calm as he could. “But hurting Lady Diana is entirely unnecessary, and as far as I can see, it is merely cruel pleasure on your part.”

  He knew he had no chance of calming Thomas if he himself did not remain collected. In truth, he wanted to rail and shout, because the thought of Diana being hurt enraged him.

  “Cruel pleasure?” Thomas turned his nose up at the words, sneering at Isaac. “Goodness me, that girl has been talking some nonsense into your ear, Brother. You are all too susceptible to being manipulated. You need to rethink where your loyalties lie.”

  “Really?” Isaac asked. “It’s funny you should say that, because I feel as though that is what you have been doing to me all along—manipulating me for your own gains. Even plotting against the Earl is as bad as what he did to Father.”

  “Hardly,” Thomas snorted. “He brought it on himself. He is a murderer, Isaac. Wake up from this slumber of love you have fallen into and see the truth!”

  “I see the truth clearer now than I have done in a long while, Thomas, and I will no longer put up with it.”

  “Don’t forget,” Thomas sneered. “I know more than you would care to share with this girl of yours. If you cross me, I may have to reveal all.”

  “I will take your threats no more, Thomas. I won’t have any further part in your plan, and for that matter, I won’t have any further part in your support. You are old enough to look after yourself. It is time you found employment and a place to live.”

  “You’re throwing me out as well as letting me down?” Thomas looked away and scoffed. “Dearie me, Brother, there was me thinking you were on my side, but I can clearly see that you are not. Tell me, what do you think you will be able to accomplish without me?”

  “Keeping a full decanter of brandy in the drawing room, for starters,” Isaac said. The light from the window hit the crystal and it reflected onto the walls, shimmering, large and looming.

  “Oh, it’s liquor you’re worried about. Well how about I empty it all over the floor?”

  “What nonsense are you—”

  Isaac stopped talked as Thomas took the stopper out of the decanter and threw it onto the sofa. Then he turned the decanter completely upside down and let the amber liquid trickle to the floor.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Isaac roared. “You have gone completely mad!”

  “It’s not I who has gone mad,” Thomas roared, fiercely angry. He let the decanter fall to the floor and it smashed, glass flying across the wood like hundreds of tiny diamonds. “You want to marry into the family who murdered our Father, and you think it is me who is mad?”

  “I want to marry Lady Diana, not Henry Allen, nor any murderer,” Isaac snapped, taking a step towards his brother. His fists were clenched by his sides and he growled his anger.

  “And what do you think your little girl will think when she discovers the role you have played, albeit it not to the end? When she discovers the truth about why you befriended her in the first place?” Thomas looked smug and Isaac breathed heavily through his nose, a bull preparing to attack.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he said. Thomas looked casually down at his fingernails and shrugged.

  “Are you really willing to risk finding out?”

  Isaac took a step forward, his brother goading him as he crunched over the broken glass, and he glared at Thomas.

  “If you dare try to ruin this for me,” he said. “I will ruin you. Believe me, Thomas, it is I with the power here, not you.”

  “How sweet you think that, Brother,” Thomas said, and although his words were confident— blasé, even—Isaac was sure he saw a shiver of something. Anxiety, perhaps. Fear.

  “I advise you stay out of my way, Brother.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, glaring.

  “You know,” Thomas said finally, trying a new method. “You care so little about Father’s death that you have me questioning it…perhaps I was wrong, and Henry Allen did not kill him. Perhaps it was you all along, a desperate attempt to be Duke.”

  “I am Duke, Thomas.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Thomas said, his voice melodic now, teasing. “But thanks to Father’s death, you became Duke at such a tender young age. I cannot help but think—since you are not angry at Henry Allen—that maybe there is more to it. Did you kill our Father, Isaac?”

  “You cannot be serious, Thomas. I loved Father and would never have done anything to hurt him. I wouldn’t need to, either. I would have become Duke in time.”

  “Yes, you would have!” Thomas spat, his angry tone returned, and he looked Isaac up and down with such disgust that Isaac couldn’t be sure he recognized his brother any longer.

  “What is this all about?” Isaac asked, exasperated, letting out a long sigh. He was tired—of their plan, of fighting with his brother. He wanted to move on with his life, but it seemed Thomas always stood in his way.

  “You know what it is about. It’s about avenging Father’s death, and making his murderer suffer.”

  “No,” Isaac said, shaking his head, his chin creased. “I’ve worked out what this is about. It’s about fulfilling some sort of fantasy of yours because otherwise, you would have accepted that you are grown now, and that it is time to move on.”

  “I will move on,” Thomas sneered, “when the job is done.”

  “Well you can do it on your own,” Isaac said, pushing past Thomas to the door. “I want no part in it.”

  “But—”

  Isaac held his hand out to stop Thomas from saying any more, and then he left the room.

  Isaac took his dinner in his room that night, feigning a headache. He had no desire to talk to anyone—not even Diana—and he wanted some time alone to reflect on what had happened.

  He had not intended to argue with Thomas—at least, not quite so vehemently. But he could not deny that he was pleased with the end result. He was no longer part of Thomas’ plan, and he had warned Thomas that he needed to find a way to support himself, sooner rather than later.

  Of course, he would continue to support Thomas in a way. He would not see him on the streets or begging for food. And he would support him emotionally, too, for he truly wanted to see his brother succeed. But he would no longer let Thomas be a leech in his household, and his support was contingent on Thomas’ behavior. His brother would control him no more, and Isaac would protect Diana whatever the cost.

  The one thing he had realized over the past days was that he could not betray his one true love, not for anything or anyone. Certainly, it would be difficult to live with the fact that his father-in-law killed his father, but that was something Isaac had to come to terms with. Diana was worth it, of that he was certain. They would find a way to move past it, without anyone getting hurt.

  Chapter 28

  It was over week before the Earl returned, and during that time, Isaac and Diana spent as much time as they could together. Diana found herself making excuses to see him. When she knew he was in the library, she had a sudden need to find a book. When she knew he was in the garden, she craved the fresh air. From his smile, she suspected he knew how often she orchestrated their accidental meetings, but he seemed as eager for them as she did.

  As she walked in the garden, she dreaded the day her father would return. Not because she did not want to see him, because she did. She needed to check he had been eating well enough and that he had had enough sleep.

  But rather, she dreaded it because she knew that meant Isaac would be returning home, and they would no longer be able to continue their romance in such close quarters.

  But you are soon to be married! Stop with the impatience.

  She reprimanded herself for the same thoughts over and over, knowing that once they were married, she would be able to see him every single day, that she would wake up next to him. She knew that, by then, his face would be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last thing at night—and by then, it would be real and not merely in her imagination. How l
ife had changed in such a remarkably short time.

  “Diana!”

  Diana jumped at the sound of her name, so deep in thought she had been. She spun around to find Celine racing to catch up to her.

  “Is everything all right?” Diana asked, taking in Celine’s flushed complexion and the slight irritation in her eyes.

  “I have been following you for goodness how long,” Celine said. “Have you not heard me calling your name?”

 

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