Fever Dreams

by Nicole Jordan

  The spark of defiance flared hotter inside her, spurring Eve on as she argued with herself. Giving Ryder one night did not mean surrendering her hard-won freedom. She would not be turning control of her life over to him. She wouldn’t be trapped and powerless again with him.

  She would never consider a liaison with any man other than Ryder, of course. And one night together needn’t lead to anything deeper or more meaningful. Carnal relations, nothing more. One night of lovemaking.

  One taste of passion.

  That was all she wanted. She would be satisfied with one night, Eve promised herself.

  In the end, his proposition was impossible to resist. Or more truthfully, he was impossible to resist.

  “Very well,” she said breathlessly. “One night. But nothing more.”

  Ryder had been watching her closely while she debated, but at her answer, his eyes glinted with satisfaction. “Good. I will make the arrangements and let you know.”

  Eve fought down the panic that suddenly welled in her stomach, battling the cowardly urge to change her mind.

  But she wouldn’t let herself give in to it, even if she had the vague suspicion that she had just bargained away her soul.

  Ryder was as good as his word. He made arrangements for three nights later, saying he would meet her at a side door of her house at midnight after her household was safely abed.

  A dozen times Eve almost told him she had reconsidered. But when the moment came, she was waiting for him, wearing a hooded cloak.

  Ryder smiled briefly in approval, then guided her some distance from the square to his waiting curricle. He had brought no groom since he wanted no witnesses, Ryder explained—although he had informed Macky they would be leaving for a few hours, so that her protector wouldn’t panic if he discovered her missing from the house.

  Macky, however, was the soul of discretion, Ryder assured her. Which made Eve remember what she had been told about the Guardians. Ryder displayed such casual ease that she suspected he’d engaged in such clandestine activities on numerous occasions before this.

  The night was cool and damp, for it had rained much of the day. But the clouds had dissipated by now, revealing a brilliant moon to bathe the two of them in silver radiance.

  Eve paid little attention to the beauty, though. Wondering about what was to come, she sat mutely beside Ryder, all her senses on edge, all her nerves thrumming. There was a tightness of excitement in her chest and stomach that held only a slight element of fear. Instead, she was filled with a restless anticipation.

  She did not have long to wait. In less than twenty minutes, they drew up before an elegant little house in north London. Eve recognized the district as St. John’s Wood, where gentlemen often set up their love nests with their mistresses. Her own husband had done so, Eve knew.

  But she immediately crushed the thought, refusing to let distasteful memories of her marriage spoil the evening. In truth, her late husband was the reason she was here tonight. She hoped to overcome the dread and revulsion he had always made her feel whenever he came to her bed.

  “The house belongs to an acquaintance of mine,” Ryder said when he saw Eve frowning.

  “He won’t mind if we make use of it?”

  “She,” Ryder corrected. “Venus owns a number of pleasure houses for the convenience of her clients.”

  Eve raised an eyebrow. “I gather Venus is a Cyprian?”

  “Even more scandalous,” he replied, amused. “She’s a notorious madam who runs one of the most prosperous sin clubs in London. But she and her servants are utterly discreet, and this place is ideal for our needs.”

  “Ryder, I think perhaps I may have made a mistake.”

  “No second thoughts just yet, love. Save them until after you’ve seen the inside. It’s a sight to behold, believe me.”

  When a groom came out to care for the curricle and pair, Ryder reached up to draw the hood of Eve’s cloak more closely around her face to hide her features. Then, after helping her down, he escorted her inside the house.

  The decor was indeed amazing, Eve thought as Ryder gave her a brief tour of the brightly lit first floor. The furnishings were tastefully elegant, but every room—the entrance hall, the drawing room, the dining parlor, and even the billiard room—was filled with statuary and paintings of nude lovers in various poses.

  The large bedroom upstairs was only a trifle more subtle, for the paintings seemed more appropriate here. Or perhaps it was merely that the lamps had been turned down low.

  The effect was actually warm and welcoming, somewhat to Eve’s surprise. A fire was burning in the grate—the product of invisible servants—and decanters of wine and liquors stood on a side table, along with a light repast of bread, cheese, meats, and various kinds of fruit.

  Eve, however, found her gaze fixed on the high four-poster bed, whose coverings had been turned down to expose black satin sheets.

  “So this is what a den of iniquity looks like,” she observed, trying to make light of her unfamiliar surroundings. “I have never seen one before.”

  Just then Ryder closed the door softly, and Eve abruptly tensed. When he came up behind her to take her cloak, awareness tightened her skin and made her shiver.

  “I don’t intend to pounce on you, you know,” he said casually, obviously trying to reassure her and set her at ease. “We’ll have a glass of wine first, then decide how to proceed. Are you hungry?”

  “No. I couldn’t eat a bite.” The nervous flutter in her stomach had suddenly become a brutal knot of anxiety.

  Ryder led her over to an elegant chaise longue before the fire and made her sit down while he poured her a glass of wine. Returning to join her on the chaise, he handed her the glass. “Here, drink. Perhaps this will settle your nerves.”

  Eve gave a faint laugh. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “Of course it’s possible.” He relaxed back against the chaise, watching her. “We’ll take it one step at a time, sweeting. You will have complete control over the entire evening.”

  She took a gulp of wine, trying to ease the dryness in her throat. When Ryder reached out to take the glass from her, though, Eve felt the tightening of all her muscles in self-defense.

  At her obvious alarm, he first went still, then made a tisking sound with his tongue. “You aren’t allowed to be afraid of me, love. I promised you a night of pleasure and I fully intend to deliver. My male pride is at stake, you realize.”

  Hearing the amused note in his voice, she turned to glance at Ryder. The firelight played in his midnight eyes, revealing a tender, teasing glint that she knew was meant to reassure her. Yet she still felt utterly vulnerable and uncertain.

  She hated the vulnerability, hated the fear. “I would just as soon get it over with, if you don’t mind.”

  His expression softened, but he shook his head. “Actually, I do mind. I don’t like to rush.”

  Leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world, he took a sip of wine and then gave the glass back to her. Her hands were shaking so badly, however, she could barely hold it. “Look at me, I am quivering like a newborn lamb. Here, please take this.”

  Returning the wineglass to him, Eve clasped her fingers together in her lap and sat staring fixedly into the fire.

  Setting the glass aside, Ryder reached up to touch his fingertips to her cheek. “It is only I, Eve. You knew me as a callow youth. You taught me to dance, remember? Lovemaking is no more complicated than that.”

  “Perhaps not for you.”

  Ryder watched her as she kept her spine rigid, her pose revealing unmistakable fear. She was petrified, he realized. He drew a slow breath, determined to do nothing that would frighten her further. He wanted Eve to know true passion. He wanted to show her every pleasure possible between a man and a woman. And he intended to use every seductive weapon in his arsenal to accomplish it. But first he had to win her trust.

  Tenderness burned in him as he studied the delicate firelit lines of her face. “Eve,
you have scores of ugly memories, I know. But I promise you, if I do nothing else tonight, I intend to help you banish them.”

  When she remained mute, Ryder tried another tack. “Years ago on Cyrene, you were the bravest young lady I knew. You’re certainly brave enough to face this now.”

  After a moment she nodded. “I suppose so.” Her chin rose as if she were girding herself for battle, and she inhaled a long, uneven breath. “But may we please proceed, Ryder? Delaying is only making it worse.”

  “All right, then. I’d like to start with your hair. Will you take it down for me?”

  She hesitated another moment, then reached up to pull the pins from her hair. Ryder’s heartbeat seemed to fill his chest as he watched the rich honey-gold mass spill free.

  “You have the loveliest hair,” he murmured almost reverently, his hand lifting to touch that shining fall of firelit satin.

  Eve didn’t flinch from him, at least, but remained completely immobile as he let his fingers glide over the rippling tresses, luxuriating in the incredible texture.

  Finally, however, she stirred restlessly. “Now what, Ryder?”

  “Patience, love. This is merely foreplay, and it’s of paramount importance.”

  She sent him a puzzled frown. “Why?”

  “So you’ll quit cowering there, as rigid as a block of oak ready for the woodsman’s axe, and resemble something more of a woman who’s about to have the most fantastic night of her life.”

  That brought a hint of hope to her expression, and she acquiesced, although unwillingly. With an obvious effort to relax, she settled back and let him play with her hair. And it seemed that his stroking did seem to help ease the stiffness somewhat.

  Eventually Eve risked another glance at him. “I think it might have worked, Ryder. I am not so tense now.”

  “Good. Then we can proceed to the second step in your seduction.”

  Her lips quivered with a shaky, endearing smile. “You will have to tell me what comes next. I don’t have the slightest clue what I should do.”

  His heart melted. “The usual procedure is for you to undress. Do you want me to do the honors, or will you?”

  “No, I will.”

  Gritting her teeth, she bent to draw off her slippers and stockings. Then rising, Eve kept her back to him as she removed her gown. She hadn’t worn a corset, so she stood shivering in her shift for a long moment before finally drawing the garment over her head.

  Ryder caught his breath at the sight of her pale, nude body. “Turn around, Eve,” he said softly.

  She obeyed, standing regally, too proud to cower.

  His breath left his lungs entirely. She was achingly beautiful. From her high, ripe breasts to the triangle of dark gold curls shielding her femininity, she was erotic and sensual…pure male fantasy.

  Every part of her impacted his senses. Her nipples were exquisite dusky roses, pouting to be kissed, her waist narrow, her hips sweetly curving, her thighs creamy silk.

  Ryder stared spellbound, feeling the slow thud of his heart beating in painful anticipation, keenly aware of his loins, where sensation collected, heavy and thick. Eve had no notion of her allure, but she could seduce the moonlight with no effort at all.

  His gaze lifted again to her tawny hair as it spilled over her naked shoulders. Then he met her eyes—those blue, blue eyes watching him so warily.

  Ryder rose slowly, disciplining his arms that begged to surround her body. Eve was the only woman who’d ever had the power to make him ache like this.

  He took a step toward her, then forced himself to stop. He could see the unconscious longing in her eyes, yet she stared at him as if he was about to hurt her.

  God, give me the strength to go slowly, he prayed silently.

  He took a long breath to draw air into his tight, aching chest. He was light-headed from wanting her; his body was already on fire with the thought of making love to Eve for the first time. But he had to be careful.

  And truly, there was no rush. He had waited half his life for this. Now he would finally claim her after all these years.

  A feeling unfolded in him that made it nearly impossible to breathe. His loins were full and aching for her, but it was his heart that swelled to the point of bursting. Inside, he felt a shaft of longing so deep, it was a physical pain. The need to take her flowed through him like liquid fire.

  Damn it, man, you have to control yourself, Ryder chided silently. He wanted to control himself. Now that the moment was finally here, he wanted it to last forever, to draw it out, to wring every sweet, searing drop of pleasure from their joining.

  With infinite care, he stepped closer to take Eve in his arms. Her subtle scent enticed him, sweet and fresh like the wildflowers that bloomed in the meadow where they’d once met.

  Barely breathing, Ryder slid his arms around her and drew her close.

  For a moment he simply held her, willing his heartbeat to slow. Then reaching up with unsteady hands, he began to stroke her, caressing her hair, her shoulders, the soft contours of her naked back, the curves of her buttocks.

  His gentleness had the effect he wanted, Ryder realized with relief. Her rigidity seemed to dissipate, and eventually she leaned into his embrace. After a long moment, Ryder drew back to survey her. Eve had squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but now she opened them. “Ryder…I’m afraid…you won’t find any pleasure with me.”

  He kept his voice low and solemn. “Right now your pleasure is all I care about. Allow me to show you.”

  His gaze was riveted on her soft red mouth, and he bent to take it, a tender brushing of flesh. When she didn’t respond, he increased the pressure, his tongue sailing lightly across her tense lips, asking her to part for him.

  He felt her give way the slightest measure, so he continued with gentle nibbles and nips, coaxing her mouth open.

  When finally she obliged, he took her mouth fully, a deep, gentle mating of tongues. At the same time, he moved his hands up her rib cage, curving his palms into her shapely flesh, filling them with her breasts, softly kneading.

  In response, Eve arched against the delicious constraint. The soft whimpers she was making were not the result of fear, she knew, but of startled wonder at the pleasure Ryder was making her feel. She was trembling, but the tremors running through her had nothing to do with dread. She felt Ryder’s caresses as if in a dream.

  She had never tasted a kiss that promised and wooed like this. Never felt anything like the gentle, knowing movement of his hands. Nothing like his enveloping warmth, his tenderness.

  When at last he drew back, she was actually disappointed.

  “It’s my turn to undress,” Ryder informed her.

  She watched mutely as he proceeded to remove his coat, waistcoat, and cravat, then his trousers and drawers, and finally his lawn shirt.

  He stood very still, letting her take in every detail of his body, his gaze heated and compelling as he observed her reaction. Eve forgot to breathe as she stared with helpless fascination.

  If any man could be called beautiful, it was Ryder. His chiseled body was perfect, lean and sleek with muscle, rawly masculine. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow, and his legs long and powerful. She felt the unbidden urge to caress him, just to see if his body was as hard and vital as it appeared.

  And yet rising from the nest of curling black hair at his groin was the bold evidence of his sexual arousal, long and huge and swollen. Eve couldn’t help staring at that rigid male flesh, which a man could wield like a weapon. Yet she forced herself to remain still. She didn’t want to run away, didn’t want to be afraid. In truth, she wasn’t afraid.

  It was if he seemed to know what she was feeling. “Come here, Eve. I want you to touch me all over so you can become familiar with my body.”

  She couldn’t deny him anything he wanted. His dark eyes beguiled as she moved to obey.

  “Touch me, sweeting.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere you wish.”

  Tent
atively she raised her hands, sliding them along the smooth skin of his arms, over his powerful shoulders, where the muscles coiled and quivered.

  He was hotter than she expected. His skin felt heated and velvety. In fact, he was hot and hard and vibrant all over. But it was his eyes that smoldered. Her skin burned wherever his scrutiny rested, as if the caress of his gaze was a physical touch.

  “Try to relax, beauty.”

  Strangely the casual endearment did not seem awkward or out of place. Ryder did make her feel beautiful and wanted.

  He wanted her, Eve realized, her heart quickening into a fierce rhythm. There was no misunderstanding the heat in his eyes.

  A quiet tension crackled between them, filled with unmistakable sexual awareness. Yet she felt no fear when he stepped closer and brought his entire length against hers, making her feel the sensations of flesh against naked flesh, of pulse point to pulse point. Not even when his maleness pressed against the most feminine part of her, since Ryder distracted her by kissing her again…a featherlight brush of his sensual mouth that still had the power to scald her.

  Her sigh wafted against his lips even before Ryder reached up to caress her again. His sensuous fingers rippled over the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders, then lower to clasp her upper arms.

  She stirred restlessly when his kiss ended, but he only trailed his lips downward along her throat. Then he bent his head even lower, to her breast, and wrapped his warm lips around the crest. Eve was shocked by the fiercely pleasurable sensation that streaked through her.

  She clung weakly as Ryder suckled first one nipple, then the other, lavishing exquisite attention on the tight, aching buds. When a hoarse gasp came from her throat, he seemed satisfied.

  Abandoning his arousing ministrations, he took her hand and led her to one side of the massive bed. Eve abruptly felt a return of her dread, but Ryder merely turned his attention to the bedside table, where a red satin pouch and several vials of amber liquid rested.

  Curiously he withdrew from the pouch a small sponge with a thin string attached and opened one of the vials. “This is brandy. We’ll soak the sponge and place it deep between your thighs to prevent my seed from taking root.”