Dangerous

by Monica Burns

  Constance inhaled a sharp breath and turned her head away from him as she realized she’d almost revealed her dark secret.

  “You would have what?” The curiosity in his voice increased the tension holding her body hostage.

  She forced a smile to her lips, but kept her gaze averted as she tried to make light of her blunder. “I don’t know, I suppose nothing. It simply makes me sad to see people in pain.”

  As if he could read her thoughts, he brushed his lips over her ear lobe.

  “That’s not what you were going to say,” he murmured. “But I’ll discover your secrets soon enough, yâ sabāha.”

  Slowly she turned her head toward him, her eyes meeting the probing look in his gaze. Alarmed by the determined set of his mouth, she desperately tried to think of a way to divert his attention. The thin white scar that traced its way across his dark cheek prompted her to run her forefinger along the disfiguring mark.

  “How did you get cut?” she asked softly as she studied the healed wound with a sympathetic eye. It must have hurt dreadfully given the length of the scar.

  At her question, he stiffened. His fingers captured hers and he pulled her hand away from his face. “I made someone angry.”

  “It must have hurt a great deal.” She adjusted her head on her pillow as she peered at the scar more closely. “It wasn’t a normal knife blade, was it?”

  His eyebrow arched as he sent her an amused look. “If by that you mean it was incredibly sharp, you’re correct.”

  With a quick twist of her body, she pushed herself up on one elbow and leaned into him. The scent of sandalwood tickled her nose as she noted the way the skin had distinctive marks that indicated the cut had been made by an unusual knife.

  “No, I mean it looks like the edge of a blade the priests of Seth used in their rituals. Their blades always had the shape of the serpent with small curves winding back and forth in the form of a snake. It usually leaves a mark like yours.”

  An odd expression crossed his face as he reached up to touch the scar. Then with a quick movement, he climbed out of bed, leaving her to stare after him in surprise. Red sheets clutched to her chest, she sat up and watched him walk toward the fireplace. His body was a fluid mix of power and grace as he crossed the wooden floor.

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “No,” he said with a shake of his head, before looking over his shoulder. “I simply have no wish to spend the rest of the night discussing the past when I can enjoy the delicious curves of your body, Isis.”

  Heat swept over her skin before it settled in her cheeks. With an amused smile, he turned back to the fireplace and reached for a poker. The predatory beauty of his movements made it impossible not to watch him.

  The strong line of his back raced downward to the firm, muscular buttocks she’d admired in the mirrors over his bed. More beautiful than the finest Michelangelo sculpture—she marveled at his mesmerizing physique. As he stoked the fire, the sinews of his arms flexed with power, reminding her how it felt to be locked in his solid embrace.

  When he faced her again, he arched an eyebrow at her as if he were able to read her thoughts. Embarrassed that she’d been ogling him, she fell back into the mattress then rolled onto her stomach, her head turned away from him. The man would have an inflated ego if she continued to admire him so openly.

  It wouldn’t do to have him think she was so engrossed in him that she couldn’t think straight. Especially when that was the case. Frustrated by her inability to keep her emotions detached where he was concerned, she closed her eyes with a beleaguered sigh. Their arrangement wouldn’t last, and when they were finished with each other, what would become of her heart?

  Warm hands swept the hair off her back before he began kneading her shoulders in a manner that was the most relaxing thing she’d ever experienced. Unable to help herself, she uttered a small noise of pleasure. His hands stopped for a moment as he reached for something on the nightstand. Seconds later, she gasped as a cool liquid dribbled over her back. His firm mouth feathered a kiss on the top of her shoulder.

  “It’s simply oil I brought home from Alexandria,” he said with amusement. “The shopkeeper assured me it would enthrall any woman I used it on.”

  The words clutched at her chest like a vise, and she went rigid against his hands as he spread the oil over her back. Dear God, had he used this on another woman? The idea of him with another woman sent anguish burrowing into her as she suppressed a tremor of pain.

  The palm of his hand spread the oil across her back, and the faint scent of jasmine wafted its way into her nostrils. Swallowing hard, she squeezed her eyes shut as she fought the urge to weep. Why had she come here tonight? She should have known this would happen. That night at the Clarendon she’d witnessed their lovemaking, why couldn’t she see a glimpse of the future where he was concerned? It would make it so much easier to simply walk away from him.

  His hands suddenly grew still against her back as he leaned forward to kiss the top of her shoulder. “The shopkeeper called the oil Isis. I’ve not used it on any other woman, yâ sabāha, nor do I intend to do so.”

  The overwhelming relief melting its way through her made her suck in an audible breath. She immediately wished she hadn’t. It revealed more than she wanted to. Acutely aware of the fact, she didn’t speak, but her body relaxed as he worked the oil into her skin. Jasmine tickled her nose once more as his hands moved downward to knead her buttocks with gentle, firm strokes.

  Pleasure rippled through her at the knowledge this moment was for her and her alone. The oil would not touch any other woman’s skin. It was a heady thought. She sighed again as his hands glided downward to massage the back of her legs. Seconds later, his teeth gently nipped at her buttocks.

  The provocative caress forced a breath of surprised excitement from her. Wicked and delightfully sinful, his mouth nibbled its way to the small of her back as his hand slid between her legs to find her sensitive spot. The gentle pressure on the small bud of flesh sent a blissful moan floating past her lips as she squirmed under the delicious touch.

  Satisfaction echoed in his soft chuckle as he circled the nub with his finger. The caress made her insides clench with need, and she arched her buttocks into the air to push back against his touch, eager for more. God, she loved the way he made her feel. Hot, needy and desirable. The rough edge of his knee pushed her legs apart in a masterful move. His free hand slid across her stomach as he forced her to curve her body upward at a higher angle.

  The moment his thumb ceased pleasuring her, she groaned her protest. How could he tease her so wickedly only to deny her a release? A split second later, he pulled her to her knees and buried himself inside her. The action made her cry out with a mixture of astonishment and ecstasy as he slid deep into her. It was a new experience for her, and the pleasure was sharp and intense.

  As he retreated, she instinctively tightened her muscles in an attempt to keep him inside her. In the blink of an eye, he was buried deep inside her once again. Another cry flew out of her as his body moved to meet hers with long leisurely strokes that made her want to weep with need.

  The sensations holding her prisoner were acute as she rocked backward to meet the hedonistic call of his body. With each thrust, he increased the pace until he was driving into her with a force that pulled a deep groan from him.

  The scent of jasmine and her passion filled the air, and his eyes closed as her body squeezed him with small contractions. Her buttocks were soft and round against his palms as he slammed into her with a need to possess her in the most primitive way possible. With every thrust into her, his body shouted for more. He wanted to absorb every part of her until she was his completely.

  Her musky scent mixed with the exotic fragrance of the oil, and he groaned at the way his body responded to even the slightest nuance of her. She looked like a penitent worshipper on a red silk altar of dec
adence. The image sent blood surging through him, making him harder than he ever thought possible. Christ Jesus, she was tight. Remembering the taste of her cream over his tongue made him growl with need as tiny spasms grabbed at his erection.

  The low moan echoing from her was one of raw passion, and his body responded with a wild frenzy of strokes. In seconds, she exploded over him, her sweet cunny clenching around him with a demand that he explode as well. His body obeyed as he thrust into her one last time and a shout of release poured out of his throat.

  Arching away from her, he welcomed the fierce climax that made his cock throb as her body continued to clench and massage his erection. Time stood still as she shuddered under him for several minutes. The sensations of their climaxes slowly subsided, and as she sank down into the bed, he followed her.

  The moment they were no longer joined as one, his body renewed its ache for her. It was a familiar sensation. He’d lived with it for some time now. Throwing himself down on the mattress beside her, he stared up at their reflection in the mirrors above. The crumpled silk sheets surrounding her created the perfect frame for the sensuous curves of her delicious body.

  She turned toward him and curled up close to his side, a satiated expression on her face as her eyes drooped sleepily. “You, my lord, are incredibly wicked.”

  The soft words tugged a smile to his lips. “I’m happy to oblige, my lady, but I confess I had excellent incentive.”

  “Incentive?” she asked as her eyes widened with puzzlement.

  Sending her a wicked look, he settled a hard kiss on her lips. “I’ve never seen a sweeter derriere, and taking you the way I did afforded me the added pleasure of seeing my cock covered in your hot cream every time I slid in and out of you.”

  “Lucien,” she gasped loudly. The shocked expression on her face was quickly replaced by a deep blush as she shook her head at him in silent dismay.

  Amused, he ran one finger over her shoulder and down her breast to circle a nipple that had grown hard and stiff. “Which offends you more, yâ sabāha? The fact that I find your bottom erotically pleasing or my language?”

  “I have to choose?” There was still a scandalized look on her face, but it was the note of laughter in her husky voice that made him grin. Bending his head toward her breast, he flicked his tongue over her nipple.

  “Then you’re willing to please me if I decide to take you in that manner again.”

  “Yes,” she sighed as he tugged gently at her nipple with his teeth.

  He watched her closely as he swirled his tongue around the stiff tip of her breast. The moment her hazel eyes darkened with desire, he pulled away from her and blew a steady breath of air across her skin. The mewl escaping her tugged pleasantly at his groin.

  “Then tonight you’ll please me over and over again, Isis,” he murmured as he captured her mouth in a deep kiss. A long moment later, he lifted his head to study her luminous features.

  The womanly smile curving her lips set off a firestorm of protest in the back of his brain, but he ignored the outcry. Tonight he wanted to lose himself in the potent charms of an Egyptian goddess.

  Chapter Ten

  The mantle clock chimed quietly five times, and Lucien could see the first gray light of dawn peeking through the slit in the bedroom curtains. Nestled against him, Constance murmured softly in her sleep and snuggled deeper into his side. One arm wrapped around her, he lifted a lustrous lock of chestnut hair and wound it around his forefinger. Beneath the sheet, her body was outlined in all its lush proportions. His gaze slid downward to the curve of a full breast and on to the gentle flare of her hip.

  Passion surged through him again as his fingers lightly traced the area where her hip met a lush thigh before brushing across the upper part of her calf. His groin tightened as he grew hard with need. He closed his eyes. Bloody hell, he’d fully expected his desire for her to abate once morning had arrived.

  How could he have misjudged the situation so badly? With a grimace, he shook his head as he tried to form a plan. He’d been a fool to think one night of passion would quench the hunger he’d endured for so long. All he’d succeeded in doing was to feed the demons possessing his soul.

  Last night he’d wanted nothing more than to consume her, devour her until she was part of him. Looking down at her soft features, he burned with the need to rouse her from sleep and slake his thirst inside the tight velvet heat of her one more time. The thought filled his head with images of her writhing beneath him, and he suppressed them with a deep groan.

  Slowly, he removed his arm from around her and replaced the sheet that had slipped off her as she rolled away from him in her sleep. Climbing out of bed, he pulled on his robe and cinched the cloth belt about his waist with a sharp jerk of his fists. Frustration forced his hand through his hair in a rough gesture as he grabbed the back of his neck and stared at the wood floor.

  Disgusted at his lack of restraint where Constance was concerned, he suppressed the dark growl seeking to fill the silence with unrestrained fury. The raw emotion of it reminded him how tenuous his position was. If he’d steered clear of her before last night he wouldn’t be in this predicament. He’d thought he could harness his desire for her. Master his emotions when it came to her. He’d failed miserably. Primitive and insatiable desire had been the sole force driving him to take her time and again last night. That type of need couldn’t be satisfied in one night, and for the first time he realized just how dangerous a game he was playing.

  With a glance over his shoulder, he looked at her. The sheet had slid off one side of her as she’d shifted in her sleep. Red silk framed a full breast, the edge of the material barely brushing against her nipple. In an instant his mouth went dry, and he quickly turned away. Even looking at her made it difficult to think straight.

  Had his father and Nigel experienced this crushing need? This uncontrollable desire? Nigel had never believed in the Blakemore curse. Surely his brother had experienced some irrational thoughts before he murdered Katherine. Why hadn’t anyone seen what was happening to his brother? Or perhaps it had happened too quickly in his brother’s case. The pain and fury of Katherine’s betrayal must have been overwhelming.

  Why hadn’t he seen the signs that morning?

  Guilt twisted its sharp blade in his heart. He, of all people, had known his brother best. Even he’d failed to recognize Nigel’s slippery descent into a hell that had left him and Katherine dead. How could he have failed to recognize the madness taking hold in his brother?

  And what of the vow he’d reaffirmed the day they’d buried Nigel and Katherine? The oath never to become so captivated by any woman that he might arouse the same beast inside him. What of that? He hadn’t simply broken that vow, he’d shattered it last night every time he’d made Constance his. No, that wasn’t true. He’d broken his vow that night at the Clarendon when he’d begun his search for her.

  Closing his eyes, he tipped his head to one side then the other in an effort to release the tension in his neck. He still didn’t have a solution to his problem. Worse yet was the knowledge that Constance had already begun to realize the power she wielded over him. As each hour had passed last night, her smiles had become more seductive and empowered. It had been almost as if she realized how much her presence affected him.

  It was a power he couldn’t afford to give her. Doing so might easily bring him to his knees where she was concerned. That he couldn’t allow. He couldn’t permit himself to develop any feelings for Constance. Loving her was impossible.

  No, not impossible, but it was far too dangerous. He refused to surrender to the beast dwelling inside him, but most of all, he refused to put Constance in harm’s way. God knows he didn’t want to push her away. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to be free of the Blakemore curse. Free to care for her, but he couldn’t.

  He had to protect her, and the only way he knew how to do that was to pu
t an emotional distance between them. If he’d been thinking more clearly last night, he would have sent her back to her room without touching her. He’d been a fool to think he could bed her again and remain unaffected. Now he needed to guard her from harm, and that meant hurting her. Guilt whipped through him at the thought, and he grimaced. Better to injure her emotionally than to take her life in some blood-red mist of passion and madness. A soft sigh from the bed interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to look at her.

  “Lucien?” Constance’s sleepy voice whispered across the room.

  Still half asleep, she had sat up, resting her weight on one elbow. As she swept a cloud of hair back off her face, he couldn’t help enjoying the ripe, sensuous look of her. Her face shimmered with the sleepy, sultry look of a woman who had been thoroughly made love to.

  Unable to move, he contented himself with watching her as she grew more aware of her surroundings. When she spotted him standing in the middle of the floor, she smiled. It was the smile of a siren. Inhaling a sharp breath, he didn’t move as she wrapped herself in the sheet and walked toward him. No Egyptian queen could have been more beautiful. The knot in his throat threatened to choke him.

  The worst was yet to come as the sheet slipped from her fingers, and she pressed the warmth of her sweet curves into him. Passion assailed him with the ferocity of a wild desert storm while the hot softness of her waist heated his palms. His mouth slashed over hers in a kiss that was hard and savage.

  The decision to drive her away from him was a blurred thought in his head as he cupped her breast and bent to suckle her. The taste of her was sweet and intoxicating. As he circled his tongue around a taut nipple, a mewl of pleasure feathered its way over the top of his head. In that instant, rational thought returned, and he pulled away from her.

  “It’s getting late. You need to return to your room,” he said gruffly.

  “I know,” she murmured as she caressed his cheek with one hand.