by Diana Quincy
“Tea would be lovely.” Pleasure brightened Tori’s face. “I would so enjoy a strong cup of tea.”
Leela felt a pang of empathy for the girl. Strong tea would now be a treat for someone of Tori’s reduced circumstances, especially given the high price of the imported drink.
Her resolve strengthened. She could never allow Tori to fall into poverty. But that’s exactly what would happen if all of London declined to employ the young woman’s husband for fear of offending the duke. Leela had to find a way to secure Tori’s future.
Settling next to her beloved stepdaughter, she took the girl’s hand in hers and kissed it. “Now, you must tell me everything—about your wedding, your husband and your new home. Don’t leave anything out.”
“I thought you’d never come.” Hunt met Leela at the door of Weston House and whisked her inside and into his arms. A strong gust of wind came in with her. It had been raining all day. Inhaling her sweet rosewater scent, he said, “I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been two days,” she reminded him.
“An eternity. Are you suggesting you haven’t had time to miss me?”
She clung to him. “No, I missed you terribly.”
Warmth blossomed in his chest. “That’s what a man desires to hear.”
She wore a velvet burgundy cloak. It was damp. He pushed away the hood that shrouded her face in shadows. “Let me have a good look at that glorious face of yours.”
He cradled the back of her head in his hands and brought his lips to hers, nipping and licking. He explored the roof of her mouth, the soft satin of the insides of her cheeks, before hungrily intertwining his tongue with hers. “I want you right here. Right this minute.” He relieved her of her cloak and tossed it away.
Her hands were already going to the placket of his pantaloons. “The servants,” she gasped between urgent kisses.
“Are all off for the evening.” He bunched up her skirts, his hand reaching between her legs, finding the moist smoothness he was desperate for. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Her clever hands freed his shaft. “As are you.” She bit his lip, the sensation going straight to his prick, which was already thick and long. She stroked him in strong firm motions. The pleasure was almost more than he could stand. He was going to spend before he even got inside her.
He backed her up to the nearest wall and pressed her hard against it. She straddled him with one of her legs. He crouched down and pushed into her. The relief was so intense that his throat ached. Slipping his hands under her bottom, he hoisted her up against him.
Leela wrapped both legs around his waist. She arched her back and sank her fingers into his hair, tugging at it. The rough touch aroused Hunt even more. “Do you like this?” he demanded to know, thrusting into her hard and fast.
“Yes.” She rocked her pelvis in rhythm with his movements. “Oh yes.” She slid her hands up under his linen shirt and dug her nails into the skin of his back. Their sharp breaths, the thumping sound as he thrust into her, echoed up through the high ceilings of his marbled entryway. Outside, the wind roared.
He increased his pace, sweat pouring down his back. “Is this good? Is this how you want it?” he rasped. He wanted it to be the best for her.
She flattened her palms against his cheeks and stared into his eyes. “Everything with you is good. The best.”
His heart felt like it was exploding. A primal sound tore from his throat. “I’m not going to last,” he said desperately.
Her only response was to moan as she rocked against his pelvis. Staring into her eyes made him lose control, the building pressure snapped and he poured himself into her, her channel milking everything out of him. Pleasure rushed at him; the world went black.
He heard her cry out, felt her insides throb around him. He buried his face into the side of her neck, holding her close as her intense climax tore through her.
And the world had never seemed so perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Naked, Leela stretched out on the soft blankets Hunt had set out before the enormous hearth in his bedchamber. “This is so cozy I don’t ever want to leave.”
“That would suit me.” Hunt lay on his side next to her with his weight propped on an elbow. The fire provided the only light in the chamber, bathing his bare form in a soft glow. Leela’s appreciative gaze slid over the masculine curves and ridges of his body, the firm ripples in his stomach, his male parts soft and relaxed. He disappointed her by sitting up to shift behind her, settling her between his thick thighs with her back against his chest.
She made a sound of protest.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“No, this is supremely relaxing.” She loved the feel of his strong warm body cushioning hers, his arms encircling her, making her feel safe and protected. “But I lost the superior view.”
He chuckled, his breath humid in her ear. “What a naughty girl you’ve turned out to be.”
“I’ve discovered that women who misbehave tend to lead far more interesting lives. If I followed the rules that you find so dear, I wouldn’t be here right now. Nor would I have written Travels in Arabia.”
He kissed her neck. “It’s clearly time for me to rethink my views on society’s strictures.”
“I feel like my life truly began once I started following my heart, rather than the ton’s expectations of how a lady should behave.” She paused. “Speaking of those who break the rules—”
“Yes?” He nibbled her ear, sending delightful shivers through her.
“I saw Victoria today.”
To her regret, he stopped tending to her lobe. “You certainly know how to ruin the mood.”
She hugged his arms tighter around her. “Does her defection still bother you?”
“How can it when I have you here in my arms?”
“Victoria deeply regrets how she treated you and sends her most profound apologies.”
“Please assure Victoria that I accept her apology and bear her no ill will. I have already told you that I do not hold her responsible. But Foster is another matter. His betrayal is unforgivable.”
“Surely, you can find it in your heart—”
“I employed the ungrateful whelp. I brought him up in the world by making him my secretary despite a decided lack of experience. I saw promise in him.” He released a long sigh. “Clearly, I was mistaken.”
“No one will employ Mr. Foster. They fear offending you.”
His body stiffened around her. “Foster’s employment prospects, or lack thereof, are none of my concern.”
“He and Victoria have no means of support. One word from you could change—”
“You go too far.” His voice cooled. “Do not request that I assist them.”
Leela was desperate to rectify Tori’s current predicament. “I’m not asking that you do anything directly, but perhaps if you let it be known that you hold no ill will toward anyone who might employ Mr. Foster—”
“You ask too much. I will take no action against Foster, but nor will I assist him in any way.”
She turned to face him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “Don’t be angry with me.” She kissed his forehead and then his cheek.
“Perhaps if Foster had approached me before creating this scandal, things might be different.” He shook his head. “I would give you almost anything. But not this.”
“Let’s not speak of it again.”
“Nothing would please me more.”
She kissed him thoroughly, silently asking for his forgiveness. He responded, his tongue dancing with hers, but not quite as passionately as she’d become accustomed to. As she pulled back from him, she glimpsed the ormolu clock on his bedside table. It was past time for her to return home before the staff started to gossip about her late nights out.
“It’s late.” She rose to go.
He watched her, his expression tense. “You are leaving?”
“You know I cannot stay the night.”
Hunt
followed her movements as she found her chemise and slipped it over her head. The silence between them was heavy with unsaid words. After watching her dress, he said, “If you mean to punish me for not coming to Foster’s rescue after the way he humiliated me—”
“That’s not it at all. It’s well past midnight.” She reached behind her head, her fingers separating her hair, working with rapid efficiency to tame the mass of curls into a single braid down her back. “I cannot arrive back to my brother’s home too late. The staff will talk.”
“As you like.” He rose and walked naked to his dressing room. She could not help but admire the view of his firm buttocks and muscular thighs. The breathtaking sight made her want to throw caution to the wind and remain with him through the night just so she could run her hands all over his beautiful form.
He reappeared, still barefoot, but now wearing trousers and an untucked white linen shirt. “I’ll walk you down.”
She finished braiding her hair and followed him out. They found her cloak strewn across the marble floor in the front hall where Hunt had tossed it during their frantic coupling. Her insides stirred at the memory of Hunt taking her up against the wall.
In silence, Hunt reached for the outer garment and gently set it on Leela’s shoulders. She could not bear his coolness. It was as though the sun had stopped shining on her.
She caught his hand and brought it to her lips with both hands. “Please don’t be angry. I won’t mention Victoria again.” She pressed a kiss into his wide palm.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Victoria is important to you. You must always feel at liberty to speak of her in my presence. But Foster is another matter entirely.” He pressed his face into the side of her neck, inhaling deeply. “Please do not allow him to come between us.”
“Never.” She turned in his arms to meet his hungry lips. He kissed her heatedly. She melted against him.
“Stay,” he murmured against her lips.
“Stop tempting me,” she protested. “You seem to have forgotten that we mean to avoid a new scandal.”
“You make me forget everything, except my desperate desire to be with you every hour of every day.”
“I’ll return tomorrow. I promise.”
He reluctantly released her, leaving Leela free to pull the hood of her cloak over her face to conceal her identity.
“Is your man waiting?”
“Yes, I asked Hashem to return for me at midnight. He should be outside.”
Hunt opened the door to a blast of icy wind.
“You don’t have to come out,” she said. “It’s cold and you’re not properly attired.”
“Nonsense. I’ll see you to your coach.”
He went out with her, barefoot and coatless, a protective arm around her waist holding her close to shield her from the worst of the chill. The streets were empty. Those members of the ton out attending parties had yet to return. Those who’d stayed in, were likely taking shelter in the warmth of their homes.
Another squall blew over them, whisking Leela’s hood away from her face. She did not bother to attempt to rectify the situation because they’d already reached her brother’s carriage.
“I miss you already.” Hunt planted a hard kiss on her lips before handing her up into the conveyance.
“Tomorrow,” she said. It was a promise. A vow. A reaffirmation that while they might not have forever, she intended to make the most of every day, every year that they did have together.
As Hashem directed the horses away from Weston House, Leela peered out the window to see Hunt staring after them, straight spine, hands on his narrow hips, seeming oblivious to the cold. She felt a rush of longing. Her chest panged. She immediately understood what the sensation signaled. She loved him. Intensely. Irrevocably. For the first time in her life, she understood what it was to be in the throes of a deep, desperate, wonderful, all-consuming love.
Suddenly, a decade did not seem like nearly enough time.
Still fretting about Tori’s situation, Leela called on Edgar the following day.
“At the very least, give your sister her clothing and other personal effects.”
“Absolutely not,” he intoned after receiving her in his study. “She gets nothing. Not a shilling, nor a frippery, nor a gown. As a matter of fact, I have already had her entire wardrobe delivered to the secondhand sellers on Hollywell Street.”
“You sold Tori’s things?” she asked incredulously. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You can always be counted upon to profit from another’s misfortune.”
“Do not treat me as if I am the villain here. Victoria chose to run away with a penniless nobody. Now she must live with the consequences of her ill-advised actions.”
“I cannot believe you sold her things. At least do the decent thing and give her the proceeds from the sale.”
He scowled. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” The words leaked with sarcasm. “Perhaps because she is your sister?”
“I paid for that foolish girl to have two seasons. Two. Whatever I earn back after selling her things will pale in comparison to what I lavished upon Victoria to assure her future. Do you know how expensive it is to bring a young lady out? To outfit her for a single Season?”
“Whatever it was, you can well afford it.”
“She could have been a duchess. Instead, she chooses someone of zero consequence? No, I will not lift one finger to assist her. She must live with the results of her foolish choices.” Edgar crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, the subject of Victoria is closed. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
“No.” Thoroughly disgusted, she turned to go. “It was a mistake to come here. I’ve clearly wasted my time.”
“Not so fast, if you please. You’ve had your say and now I’d like to have mine.”
The smug expression on his face made her uneasy. “What are you about?”
“Please have a seat and I will happily tell you.”
She reluctantly joined him on a plush leather sofa, settling on the opposite end from Edgar. “Very well. I am seated. Get on with it.”
He squared an ankle over his knee, laying his arm along the back of the sofa. “How have you been spending your evenings, my dear Lady Devon?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“It is my concern if you are swiving my sister’s former betrothed.”
The air left her lungs. “Your language is appalling.”
“What is truly appalling is the fact that you pretended to love Victoria while bedding her betrothed. This is why she ran away, is it not? She discovered that you seduced the man she was supposed to marry.”
“This is ridiculous.” She started to rise.
“I saw you leaving his house last evening.”
Leela settled back in her seat with a hard thump.
Edgar continued. “Huntington was in dishabille, barefoot in the street like a pauper. I saw him escort a woman out. There was no doubt as to what the two of them had been up to. The woman was cloaked and hooded so I could not see her face. And then a fortuitous gust of wind pushed her hood away and revealed the identity of the duke’s doxy.”
“Are you following me?”
“My, but you do like to flatter yourself. No, I was visiting a friend. I spotted you and Huntington just as I was about to depart. Isn’t that a happy coincidence?”
“The duke and I are adults. Neither of us is married or otherwise pledged to another.”
“He was practically betrothed to your stepdaughter,” Edgar said sharply. “Do not pretend there is no scandal here.”
“Do what you want with the information.” Leela came to her feet. “It is of no consequence to me if you want more gossip to surround the Devon title. After all, I am still Lady Devon.”
“Do not remind me.” His lip curled. “As soon as this business with Victoria’s elopement dies down, I shall take a wife and give the title to a lady who is worthy.”
&nb
sp; “Then I suggest you concentrate on finding your unfortunate bride. Prolonging the scandal by revealing my association with the duke will not help your cause.”
“You are correct,” he said behind her, from where he remained seated. “However, there is someone who would abhor another scandal tied to his name—even more than I.”
Leela froze. She could not allow Hunt to suffer another scandal. Nor was she prepared to give him up. Not yet. She faced Edgar. “What do you want?”
He smirked. “Can you not guess?”
A chill went through her. “Parkwood.”
“Bravo!” He clapped his hands together. “You have the right of it. I do indeed want the dower house. You may be brazen, but you are certainly not a fool.”
“You cannot have it.”
“Oh, come now. Don’t be petulant. I told you I would do whatever is necessary to get the house back. It is rightfully mine. And one day, a long time from now, my future wife will reside there, which is as it should be.”
Her eye caught on the whitening scar on his cheek. The one she’d put there. She regretted the absence of her knife now. She might have gifted him with another mark on the other cheek. Parkwood and the surrounding farms were her only real assets. She might never find someone to publish her future books.
At the same time, an answer to her problems began to take shape in Leela’s head. “I’m not giving you my house.”
“You might care to reconsider—”
“But I will sell it to you.”
His forehead lifted. “After all of your declarations of love for the property, I am surprised you would part with it so easily.”
“You leave me no choice,” she snapped, injecting a forced anger to mask her rising exhilaration. “But you must pay me its full value. I’ll take nothing less.”
“Done. We are in agreement. I’ll send over my offer and the papers tomorrow.” He spoke quickly as if he feared she might change her mind. “We shall finally be truly free of each other. Once I marry and there is a new Lady Devon, you will scarcely be a memory at Lambert Hall.”