Yes, taking Rebecca might kill him. It might leave him etched with agony for what he could never have again. But he could not deny her any more than he could deny the truth. He loved her. He always had and he always would.
∞∞∞
IT WAS AS though Rebecca had never left.
No, that was not right. Their shared kisses had always been passion-filled but never felt like this. Each inhale was raw in her lungs, each touch like fire. She needed him more than the next aching breath. She didn’t know what tomorrow held—if she would even find this diamond—but for once, it did not matter. Only his touch, his kisses mattered.
She needed more.
Digging her nails into his shoulders, she arched into his touch. He left scalding kisses on her skin and left her lips feeling swollen while he kissed her deeply. His touch made her gasp for more, drawing pleasure from her that spoke of the practice he’d partaken in.
Rebecca could not bring herself to care about his past and where he’d learned such techniques—not when he had her writhing in desperation against his hand until the sensations spiked, piercing through her with such suddenness, she nearly collapsed to the ground.
Leo banded an arm around her waist and scooped her up with such suddenness, she gasped. He set her down on the luxurious bed, the soft bedding brushing her face and the bare skin above her stockings, cushioning her.
The comfort lasted mere moments, stolen by the feeling of his hard body upon hers. She welcomed the weight of him, the almost suffocating sensation of needing him so badly. She splayed her palms over his chest in a desperate bid to feel him, but the layers of clothing prevented her from reveling in the true feel of him.
Though she resented their clothing’s interference, she could not bring herself to slow and peel off his clothing to give her a chance to admire the smooth muscles beneath. If she stopped, she feared she might put an end to this.
Caution tired her. It bored her. She’d spent so long living carefully, in case someone might recognize her or think her no better than her father. She longed for the wild, heady days of her romance with Leo when all they cared for was when they would see each other next.
“Rebecca,” he murmured, the word guttural.
He didn’t ask permission. He did not need it. She had given it freely before he had even kissed her really. He knew her well enough to know she was his, if not in soul then in body.
Maybe in soul too but she could not bear to think on that at present.
She arched her back in invitation, lifting her hips. A growl sounded in the back of his throat and he thrust up her skirts. Cool air tickled the skin above her stockings. His expression darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbed. He yanked the fabric higher, his moves uncultured and impatient. She closed her eyes while he kissed her hard and she felt something rip and his hand fumble between them.
Then the heat of him was there. His tongue tangled with hers, the heady mix of sensations making her mind whirl. The bed beneath her was soft, his body atop hers hard. His tongue demanded and she responded in kind, taking all she could from his kiss. She gripped his shirt tightly and he moved forward.
A gasp caught in the back of her throat when he entered her. He stilled and she felt his heavy breaths rising and falling in his chest, and the self-control making his arms tremble. Opening her eyes, Rebecca cupped his face and drew him down onto her.
“Good God,” he moaned and sank deeper into her.
He swallowed her responding cry. The world vanished in a tumult of sensations, the thickness of him deep inside her unlike anything she could have imagined. Joining so closely with him, feeling the sweet pressure swiftly easing the slight sting, had her entirely lost to him.
“Rebecca, I cannot—”
“Then do not,” she managed to reply.
He moved deeper into her, deeper than she thought possible, then harder and faster. She instinctively rose her hips and latched her legs around the back of his. He scattered kisses over her mouth, her neck and a bared breast, though she could not fathom when that had occurred. His hot mouth around her nipple added an additional layer of sensation that made her lids flutter closed. He thrust into her again and again.
“Oh.” She scrunched her eyes tightly shut and gripped him. The pleasure enveloped her, building higher than she thought possible until exploding through her in small, blissful caresses that had her shivering.
Leo rocked into her, drawing out the sensations, then pressed his mouth to her neck. He said her name in raspy tones and withdrew from her, groaning, leaving a hot whisper on her skin that she suspected had practically branded her. She would never forget the moment as long as she lived.
He eased slowly off her and inched her skirts down. She kept her eyes closed.
Coward.
For all her supposed courage and strength, she had none now. She felt him roll next to her and heard his harsh breaths. Between her legs ached in a strangely delicious way and she wished she could turn back time and relive the moment all over again.
Then she would be able to ignore her fiercely pounding heart and the fact remained—she could not stay. Not even if she loved him.
Which she did.
She still did.
She opened her eyes and braved a look at the canopy above, staring sightlessly at it, too aware of Leo next to her, silent as well.
There was no sense in denying it. She had always loved Leo, and she always would. But what possible hope was there for them?
Chapter Nine
To say there were several attractive women residing in town was an understatement. Leo wondered if fate had conspired to make their enforced solitude some sort of test but, at present, all the pretty women in England could not distract him from Rebecca.
He should never have made love to her.
Or let her make love to him.
Or whatever the hell happened.
All he knew was he had not slept one jot and he swore his lips still recalled the touch of hers, like a brand upon him. Unfortunate indeed, considering he had vowed to stay away from women, and if there was one woman he should keep his distance from, it was Rebecca. If he let himself fall any further, he’d end up reliving the pain of having her leave once more.
What a fool he was.
She had scarcely spoken a word to him since. If he was honest, he had uttered little to her either. The truth of it remained—she had left him once before and she would do it again.
Hell, breaking the vow to his mother was not even the worst of it. He’d already tumbled headlong into the utter insanity that was his desire for Rebecca, taking her in such a heathen manner for Christ’s sakes.
And being her first.
He drew in a long breath. Every part of him needed to regret what he had done. If it didn’t, he risked everything, all over again.
Despite it all, he could not help observe her while she made her way through the busy market set out at the lakeside. It seemed the residents of Langmere were even more determined to make coin from their new guests than he realized. Though the few shopkeepers used stalls to sell their wares, they had never had an official market day in the town, nor such a wide array of wares. He suspected some of the market sellers had come from the nearby towns.
Ribbons hung gaily from one stall, the bright colors streaming in the light breeze. On another, freshly baked bread teased one’s senses and made Leo’s stomach growl, even though he’d enjoyed a hearty morning meal. There were also blankets, candles, wool fleeces and writing paper and pencils on display as well as other goods he had yet to stroll past.
None of the wares tempted quite like Rebecca did, however.
The market scheme had worked, drawing in crowds of women, but Rebecca snared his attention as she slipped past the stalls, her head low. He shook his head to himself and forced his attention back to his brothers who strolled with him along the path that led across the front of the lake. A group of three ladies—the Lonsdales, who consisted of a mother and two daughters with whom they
had been introduced a few days ago, stopped and dropped into curtseys.
He shouldn’t. Alexander had even muttered about them sticking to their mother’s rules, which was odd indeed as he could swear since his brother’s wife had died, the man had lived a more debauched life than either he or Adam.
But, damn it, he needed some sort of distraction. Anything to stop him from thinking about Rebecca.
He fixed on his most charming smile and saw a blush travel along the older girl’s chest. He let his gaze linger there deliberately so she saw as much and the color deepened, moving all the way up to her cheeks. “A pleasure to see you all again,” he murmured, keeping his attention on Miss Lonsdale.
“A-and you, my lord,” she stuttered.
Leo glanced away only briefly to spy Rebecca just outside the boarding house. She had hoped to speak with a lady who it had been revealed her father had taken as a lover. With any luck, she would know something of this diamond or at least where he had hidden some belongings and Rebecca would be on her way.
And he could put an end to this ridiculous tangle of emotion he found himself woven into. He should never have taken her in in the first place, never even acknowledged her. He could feel it pulsing hard in his gut—the need to stride over and take her home and just damn well make her his once more.
But then she would leave...
He’d worked hard enough to recover from her first departure. He was not going to let himself be that vulnerable again. Rebecca met his gaze and he saw her eyes narrow, so he turned back to Miss Lonsdale and her pretty red cheeks that worked so perfectly with her fair hair. “How are you enjoying the market?” he asked. “I saw some blue ribbons that almost match your eyes, Miss Lonsdale. A most charming color.”
Beside him, Adam snorted.
Leo ignored his brother. As ridiculous as it was, the words worked and Miss Lonsdale dipped her head, glancing up at him through her lashes. “I always thought them a little pale.”
Good God the woman was delving for a further compliment. Young and a miss she might be, but she was not as naïve as she had first appeared.
“Not at all. They are a most becoming color.”
Her lips curved. “You flatter me, my lord.”
“As all women should be. Delightful creatures such as yourself deserve flattery on every occasion.”
He winced inwardly as he saw her breath catch in a sharp raise of her chest. Leo usually paid attention to widows and experienced ladies for discreet affairs. Never innocent misses, no matter how keen they appeared to be on the flirtation between them.
There could be no harm in a little conversation, he told himself. He’d certainly enjoyed many a conversation with an attractive lady in the past, even if he had no intention of bedding them. The girls enjoyed the attention, usually, just as Miss Lonsdale did, and his attention would only increase her confidence in her own charms.
Inwardly, he winced. It seemed the thought of indulging in such pastimes did not appeal as it once would have, and it was all Rebecca’s fault.
∞∞∞
IF HER CHEEKS blazed any hotter, Rebecca swore she would burst into flames.
She clenched her fists and snapped her attention away from Leo and the young ladies around him. It didn’t matter what he did or even who he did it with. They had made no promises to each other.
Even if it was the most wonderful night of her life. Given that she had never been with anyone other than Leo, she supposed one could suggest she had little with which to compare but no one could suggest lovemaking like that was anything other than amazing. Her toes still curled thinking about it.
Of course, he had likely had plenty of practice. She pressed her lips together and moved away from the wall of the boarding house. Mrs. Knight was not home, and Rebecca had yet to spot her in the crowds. She had wasted a day in Grasmere yesterday searching for her only to find out the woman had moved back to Langmere.
But if she lingered any longer, someone might recognize her or at least think her up to no good. She did not want to draw that kind of attention.
Unlike Leo, who seemed to be reveling in the female attention.
She spared him a quick look and regretted it. He flashed his smile at the pretty young lady—that winning smile that made her stomach tumble and her heart pound. She remembered when that smile had been only for her.
Her face heated further so she spun away and marched through the stalls, her head bowed low. She had no claim over him, and one night would not change a thing. Langmere was no longer her home and Leo was the same rake he had purported to be.
The sooner she found this Mrs. Knight, the better, though Rebecca doubted her father had confided in her. He kept secrets from everyone it seemed, most especially his lovers. Still, she needed to do something. Waiting around would only lead to heartache.
To think for one silly moment, she had thought—Well, it did not matter what she had thought. There was no future for them, and Leo knew she watched him so he must have been trying to send her a message.
I’ll never be yours perhaps or it did not mean a thing.
How about You were a fool to think I even care for you?
He might not have said the words, and knowing Leo he would not, but she understood his message well enough. Forget the lovemaking and forget any thoughts of a future together. Their past could not be rewritten.
“Oh.” A young lady bumped into her, forcing her to a stop. The woman, a few years younger than Rebecca, clutched a book to her chest. She glanced her up and down and her brow wrinkled.
“Forgive me,” Rebecca muttered.
“Wait, I know who you are.”
Nausea rolled in her stomach. “I do not think so.” Rebecca attempted to step past the young brunette in a pretty straw bonnet, but she moved in front of her.
“I do know you!” Her smile widened. “You are Rebecca Fortescue.” She leafed through the book and flicked it open to a page where the corner had been folded. “Look, this is you.”
Rebecca peered at the illustration that depicted a sixteen-year-old her with her father, perhaps copied from one of the portraits that had been painted prior to leaving England. The likeness to the both of them hinted at the skills of the illustrator.
She shook her head vigorously. “No, that’s not me. You are mistaken.”
“It is you, it is!” The woman waved a hand to someone. “Fi, Joanna, come and see. It’s Rebecca Fortescue!”
Several heads whipped around in her direction. She heard her name ripple through the crowd. Her chest grew tight when more people surrounded her. Someone asked her a question of her father, but she didn’t catch what it was. Then another question was flung at her, something to do with his execution.
“Oh how exciting!” the young woman declared. “I want to know all about your father. Was he handsome? Did you know anything about his misdeeds? Did he write to you before his execution?”
Rebecca spun blindly away, her breaths thick in her throat. More people surrounded her, and she pushed through only to come upon another wave of people. Someone snatched her sleeve and she tore away.
“Please, leave me alone,” she begged.
The voices around her seemed to turn into a roar as the blood rushed in her ears. She paused to draw in a breath, but her ribs did not cooperate, as though her stays were banded too tightly. Dots clouded her vision and she tumbled forward, smacking straight into a hard chest. She lifted her gaze up, able to spy the outline of a tall, dark-haired man with a wide chest. His clothes were rough under her fingertips.
“Please, step aside,” she managed to murmur breathlessly.
“Fortescue?” he said. “Your father took everything from me.”
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I’m so sorry.” She tried to twist away but he grabbed her elbows.
“Everything, do you hear?” he bellowed. “Everything.”
The haze clouding her vision increased and she pressed a hand to her ribs whilst struggling to draw air. Her ski
n heated and her legs grew weak. She spotted the ground coming to meet her but did not feel a thing when she hit the ground.
“Stand back!” someone shouted.
“Leo?” she whispered.
“Get back,” Leo ordered again.
An arm scooped under her neck and another under her legs. Pressed against a warm, solid chest, she let herself splay a hand upon it and burrow into the soft fabric of his jacket.
“I’ve got you,” Leo assured her.
She nodded limply and closed her eyes. If she needed more evidence that she could not stay, she had it.
Chapter Ten
Leo stopped in the doorway of the billiard’s room. Not that he had much choice. Both his brothers blocked his way, Adam to the left and Alexander to the right. His oldest brother had that stern look, that practiced stern look that came with being a marquis. Leo reckoned they must have secret lessons before inheriting the title on the precise expression one must use as a titled gentleman.
It didn’t work on him, though. Alexander seldom played the role of the older, austere brother and was far more likely to be found doing his best to ignore the dull duties of his title. Oh, he did what was necessary, keeping the estates running and buying country houses that no one lived in, but he was a far cry from their father who had adopted that expression for most of his life and had little time for anything other than estate business.
He arched a brow. “Is something the matter?”
“You are acting strange,” Adam accused.
“I am not the one standing in a doorway, looking as though one is guarding some secret of the state,” Leo shot back.
“You keep vanishing.” Alexander gestured upstairs. “Within the house.”
“I did not know I was unwelcome here. Perhaps I should have found myself lodgings in town.” He nodded toward Alexander. “Besides, you’ve been distracted by this Miss Evans. What would you know of my comings and goings?”
Alexander chuckled. “Distracted? Hardly.”
The Taming of a Wicked Rogue (The Lords of Scandal Row Book 1) Page 6