She eyed him dubiously but relented. “I suppose you are right.” She glanced at the timepiece he had sitting upon the desk. “And the hour grows later. I should hie to bed.
“Please do not touch the rest of these books, Edward,” she directed. “I wish to look through them before they are altered any further.”
“Yes, madame,” he said, his tone stiffer than it had been. “I’ll have them ready and awaiting you on the morrow.”
“See that they are,” Fiona said curtly. As she left him, she pursed her lips while she considered the ledgers.
Something didn’t quite add up.
Chapter Seventeen
What was the significance of that ruby ring?
Chloe lay abed, unable to sleep, her head spinning with questions. The hour was growing so late that she feared morning would come before she could chance to close her eyes.
Where was Ian?
Wherever he was, she hoped he wasn’t in danger. She had a terrible feeling that the constable was watching his every move. But she wondered how the constable knew to suspect Ian. Chloe certainly never would have. He’d played the part of a dandyish lord so well that she doubted anyone suspected him.
Did Lady Fiona know her son was a champion to the poor? His mother had claimed it was Hawk who’d caused her carriage accident. But that couldn’t be… unless… her story was fabricated.
And then a thought occurred to her: Had she, like Chloe, used the accident in an attempt to draw him out?
She recalled that Ian had forced his mother, against her will, to make a report to the constable. They’d summoned Chloe’s father first, of course, but the constable came soon thereafter.
And the necklace… who filed that report with the constable? Certainly not Chloe. Although Ian said he would do so, he had not to the best of Chloe’s knowledge—nor had Lady Fiona encouraged it.
Someone had to have also alerted the constable that she was to meet with Hawk that night. Chloe was sure of it. But who would have done so?
Emily?
So many questions nagged at Chloe’s brain. Sleep seemed an impossible task. Footsteps wandered past her door and she wondered, in her sleep-deprived state, if it could be Lady Fiona wandering the halls. But as soon as she thought it, she admonished herself for the ridiculous notion. She couldn’t believe Lady Fiona would lie about her illness.
And Chloe’s father, he wasn’t the sort to lie at all.
Remembering the weeks before he’d died, tears pricked at her eyes and she swallowed the knot that rose in her throat. He’d been quite beside himself for some reason Chloe could never determine. Had he lied for Lady Fiona? Had the ordeal sent him to an early grave?
Chloe couldn’t bear it if that were true.
The echo of footsteps halted outside her door. Chloe peered up to see the shadow of feet paused outside. And then the hall light went out and the shadow blended into the darkness.
Her heart began to pound.
It wasn’t her imagination; someone was outside her door.
The footsteps began anew, moving away from her door. They faded somewhere down the hall. Chloe heard a door creak open and close and she sucked in breath she hadn’t realized she’d held. She lay her head back down upon the pillow, willing her heartbeat to slow.
Lord, she was beginning to see conspiracies in every corner—secrets and lies. And if there was one thing she couldn’t abide it was a liar. Perhaps she shouldn’t remain in this house any longer. Perhaps it was time to go.
She turned her back to the door to face the balcony, starting as she spied a figure standing there as well, the form a silhouette against the moonlight. Chloe froze, a scream caught in the back of her throat.
“Chloe,” he whispered, and came toward the bed.
Chloe’s heart flipped against her ribs at the sound of his voice.
“Forgive me,” Merrick said as he came to her bedside, looking down upon her.
He’d been gone a week and, God help him, he could think of nothing but Chloe. He couldn’t stay away. He needed to know the feel of her body beneath his. He craved the taste of her upon his lips and his tongue. He wanted to know her body intimately, inside and out.
“Ian,” she whispered.
The sound of his brother’s name upon her lips burned at his gut. He wasn’t Ian and he damned well wanted her to know it. She said nothing to protest his presence and his heart quickened its beat, thrumming through his veins. Illuminated by the pale moonlight, she was a vision of loveliness lying before him. But her face was in the shadow of his body and he couldn’t see her expression. Her white, filmy nightgown clearly revealed the outline of her areolas, beautiful peaks that whetted his hunger.
“You’re back,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Merrick bent to kiss her, his lips unerringly finding her mouth. Eager for the feel of her, he growled softly in the back of his throat as she reached out to take him into her arms, willingly inviting him into her bed.
Tonight, he would make her his own.
He couldn’t wait any longer.
His hand cupped her face as he deepened the kiss and her arms went sweetly about his neck, drawing him near.
Merrick didn’t need further encouragement. He fell atop her, savoring the sweet taste of her mouth. “Chloe,” he rasped, and was nearly unmanned on the spot when she offered him her sweet tongue. Fire pumped through his veins, increasing his size, making him throb painfully.
He kissed her feverishly, tasting and plundering the depths of her mouth, praying she’d not change her mind and send him away. If she did, he would surely die.
He’d been able to think of nothing more on the journey home from Edinburgh than burying himself into the silky depths of her body.
He wanted her body and soul.
His hands released her face long enough to untie his cravat. He tossed it impatiently to the floor, moaning softly as her hands gently cupped his face.
“I’m so glad you are here,” she whispered, and his heart swelled against his ribs until it ached.
He tore off his coat, wrenching free of it, and tossing it to the floor, then his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of her skin against his bare flesh.
Chloe swallowed.
She wanted this.
She didn’t care about tomorrow.
All that mattered was tonight, this instant.
If she must leave him tomorrow, then at least she would take this moment with her and cherish it always in her heart. Tonight she would give him more than her love, she would give him her body… she would give him anything he desired and more.
Her hand slid from his face, reveling in the soft growth of whiskers there, and moved to his wide, beautiful shoulders, adoring his sinewy male flesh. His hands came to her once more, alighting first upon her shoulders and sliding down her arms, caressing feverishly. They were like fire against her body and yet she shivered wherever they lit.
Moaning softly, arching her back, Chloe willed him to take whatever he wished. Her head fell backward as he broke their kiss and his mouth moved down her chin, her throat, leaving little fiery kisses along its path.
She trembled as he gently suckled her throat, sending pinpoints of pleasure throughout her entire body.
Suckling through her gown, his mouth fell upon her breasts and she gasped for air, shuddering softly over the glorious sensations his suckling evoked. Scandalously, even through the material of her nightgown, she could feel the swirl of his tongue as it made tiny circles about her aching nipples. He found and traced the outline of her areolas and then drew first one peak, then the other into his mouth, suckling like a babe at its mother’s breast.
It was wickedly sweet.
She had never known a man would wish to suckle that way. The sensation was unlike anything Chloe had ever known. She arched her body, wanting more. In answer, his hands moved beneath her, lifting her higher for the shockingly erotic feast, and something began to coil deep inside her. Tightening in her womb, the f
eeling intensified with every nip and suckle.
“I need you,” he whispered.
Chloe’s breath escaped in a rush.
She needed him, too.
Unable to speak, she nodded her assent. His body fell fully atop her then, and she reveled in his weight. Partly in fear and partly in delight, she whimpered as he covered her.
So sweet.
Merrick craved the taste of her lust. His hands gripped the front of her gown and ripped it.
He would buy her new ones.
He would buy her thousands of new gowns.
He would give her anything her heart desired.
She cried out, startled, but her face showed no trace of fear, only sweet passion. It filled him with intense satisfaction. The sight that greeted his hungry gaze literally stole his breath. Her breasts, revealed by the soft moonlight, were perfectly shaped for his hands, the nipples pebbled tightly, waiting like tiny rosebuds for his tongue’s caress.
Christ, but she was lovely.
His mouth fell once more upon her breasts with a thirst unlike anything he’d known. He tasted her skin with abandon, lapping her gently, committing every small nuance of her body to his memory. She arched further, giving him greater access to her beautiful breasts, moaning softly, and his loins hardened at the feast she offered so willingly.
“I want you, Chloe,” he whispered.
For a lifetime.
Forever.
Someday he wanted to die in her arms… after they had loved each other for a hundred years.
He reached down and took her by the hand, drawing her lean, delicate fingers to his manhood. He wanted her to feel what he would give her. He wanted her to grow accustomed to the thought of having him inside her. He wanted her to touch him, caress him, love him. He wanted her body to prepare for his possession.
And he would possess her.
Chloe moaned softly at the shocking feel of him against her trembling fingers. He was so big, so hard. She knew what he wanted and, Lord, she would give it to him freely.
Her body shivering, her fingers gripped him where he longed for her to touch him. His fingers closed about her own, forcing her to acknowledge the length and width of him. She whimpered deep in the back of her throat as his hand left hers to unfasten his trousers, and somehow, he shed them without displacing her hands. Or perhaps Chloe simply wasn’t aware of it and her fingers sought him again in a haze of passion.
He made some tortured sound as her fingers gently closed about his shaft, gripping him awkwardly but eagerly.
He was beautiful, his body lean, but thickly muscled. His golden hair gleamed in the moonlight. His face, as he looked down upon her, was so full of desire that it sent shivers of delight through her.
While she stroked him, his mouth moved slowly down the length of her body, his hands ripping her gown as it descended toward her most private place and Chloe began to tremble in earnest, afraid he would continue… afraid he would stop. His manhood slid from her hand as he moved down her body, revealing droplets of desire at the tip. She felt the steely length of it glide, hard and demanding, down her thigh as he kissed first her belly and then her mons. The sensation of his mouth there gave her a start, dizzying her. She cried out at the sweet, sinful intimacy of the kiss as his tongue made gentle swirling motions about the bud of her womanhood, teasing and tasting.
The coil of pleasure tightened throughout her body, making her crave something more…
His hands joined his mouth, probing gently, his thumb stroking the part of her forbidden lips. His tongue swept inside her body, shocking her with the warm, wet caress. Chloe cried out in pleasure, arching her body in wicked delight.
“This is like a precious flower,” he told her, parting her gently with his fingertips. His tongue lapped her hungrily as he spoke. “It has the sweetest nectar,” he whispered.
Chloe’s heart leaped into her throat.
His fingers continued to caress as his tongue tasted her feverishly. All the while, Chloe was drowning in a sea of her own desire. Of their own will, her legs spread for him, wanting to feel more.
“That’s it, flower,” he said, coaxing. “Open for me.” And he drank from her like a hummingbird would a honeysuckle. He suckled and lapped her alternately. His fingers slid inside her body unexpectedly and the feel of it sent a violent shudder through her. He pushed deeper. Whatever pain she might have felt was eased by the delicate lapping of his tongue. Chloe was out of her mind with desire.
He was playing her body like an instrument, bringing her to higher and higher pleasures.
She was vaguely aware that her legs spread wider for him, scandalously allowing him to feast upon her in a way she hadn’t even known a man would long to do. She’d understood very well how men and women coupled, but this… this was like nothing she had ever imagined.
It was wicked and sweet, deliciously sinful.
As his finger pushed deeper inside her body she felt a sharp, quick pain and cried out.
He ceased his loving abruptly. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.
Chloe shook her head frantically, unable to speak. In answer, her hands went to the back of his head, pulling him closer in desperation. She arched for him, wrapping her legs about his neck, wanting yet more of what he would give.
“Oh, God,” Merrick groaned.
He willed himself to slow, wanting her first time to be pleasurable. His mouth sought her once more, his tongue parting the petals of her womanhood. Chloe whimpered and he deepened the kiss, reveling in her passion.
She was more than he’d imagined.
Chapter Eighteen
“Do you trust me, Chloe?” Merrick asked.
She did.
Chloe nodded, trusting him completely.
His finger slid deeper within her body and she lifted her hips to accept it, delighting in the feel of it.
But she wanted more.
His breath sounding labored, he slid back up the length of her body, taking possession of her mouth again, suckling her lips, nibbling gently. Chloe tried to kiss him back, uncertain how to respond, not knowing how even to touch him to return the sensations. But she vowed to try. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, caressing. Her mouth kissed his salty flesh, lapping timidly.
And then she felt it… the pressure of his manhood begging entrance to her body, and she shuddered violently, knowing that once she gave this to him it would never be hers again to give. Even so… she wanted this more than she wanted to breathe.
Begging with her body, she undulated beneath him, coaxing him inside. He answered with a low moan deep in the back of his throat and she smiled to herself, hoping that it felt as wonderful for him as it did for her. He glided into the depths of her with excruciating slowness. Chloe cried out in pleasure, not in pain, as his shaft filled her completely.
Dearest God… this… this was Heaven. This… was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
She wanted it never to end.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against her cheek, and he began to rock gently against her, stroking her inside until she thought it would drive her mad.
Merrick was beside himself with joy.
It might be his body filling hers, but she filled up his heart and his soul. Gently he placed his hands beneath her bottom and rocked himself inside her, controlling his thrusts as he pushed slowly deeper. He lengthened his stroke, his body trembling in anticipation of giving her his seed.
“I love you,” he said, and meant it.
“I love you,” she whispered, in the heat of passion, and his heart squeezed painfully.
She didn’t know him.
How could she love him?
She simply hadn’t realized yet that everything about him was a bloody lie. Still, he reveled in her words, vowing to make it up to her. But hearing her whisper those three little words sent him into a fog of passion. He thrust into her once more, his mouth catching and devouring her soft whimper of surprise. When her legs instinctively entwi
ned about his waist, he was entirely lost. In that instant, even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped; he thrust again and again and again…
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes!” Chloe never wanted the moment to end. For the rest of her life she wanted to feel lost in his loving, safe in his arms.
She met his every thrust with one of her own, praying that she was giving him as much pleasure as he was giving her. Pleasure coiled like a snake through her body… building a sensation she needed desperately to explore. She closed her eyes and followed it to some place she’d never dared go. She sought it with every undulation of her hips, every gasping breath, and when, at last, her body convulsed around him, she cried out in absolute joy.
With a final violent thrust, he spilled himself inside her. His cries of pleasure gave Chloe a sense of completion such as she’d never understood until this very instant.
When it was over, they lay holding one another, neither able to speak. They fell asleep basking in the afterglow of their loving.
It was Merrick who awoke at first light, knowing he couldn’t remain lest he bring her greater scandal. But he didn’t wish to leave without loving her once more. He needed to feel her body wrapped about him again, gripping him like velvet steel.
He kissed her throat, her mouth…
She stirred awake and he settled his arm about her waist, pulling her atop his chest, so that she lay sleepily with her head atop his shoulder. She peered up at him groggily and smiled. Merrick thought it was the most beautiful smile he had ever witnessed.
“Good morning,” she murmured, and tried to rise.
He stilled her with a hand to her back and she settled atop him, sighing softly.
“Good morning, flower,” he said, and grinned at her, shifting her weight atop him so that his throbbing shaft was poised at the entrance of her body. He heard her soft gasp, but her hands merely wrapped about his neck in answer.
Closing his eyes, Merrick thrust upward, entering her in one swift motion.
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