A Breath of Scandal

by Connie Mason

  “Forgive my eagerness,” he drawled lazily. “If I wore you out last night, you have only to say so.”

  Lara’s flush deepened as she set her untouched plate beside his. “I’m tired but not worn out, Drago. Perhaps retiring early would do us both a world of good.”

  His lips quivered with mirth. The invitation visible in the depths of her exotic eyes was a clear indication that the little Gypsy spitfire knew precisely what he wanted. Furthermore, she wanted it as badly as he did. He rose and held out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her to her feet. Hand in hand they walked to their wagon, blissfully unaware of a man’s dark gaze following them.

  “I missed you,” Julian said, surprised to realize he meant it. “You indicated that you had no ill effects from our loving last night. Can you take me again tonight?”

  “Aye,” she whispered, stepping into his arms.

  His arms closed around her. She pulled his shirt out of his trousers and slid her hands inside the opening. He pressed his lips against hers and their mouths became ravenous, their desire unquenchable. He deepened the kiss at the same time he pulled her blouse from her shoulders, freeing her breasts. They filled his hands, and he kneaded them with his fingertips. A groan rumbled deep in his throat. He felt her nipples harden against his palm and wanted to taste the dusky fruits, to suckle them and nip them until she begged for mercy, but Lara had other ideas.

  She tore her mouth from his, opened his shirt, and set her lips against his corded throat, then slid her tongue down the muscles of his chest, until they fastened on a hard, male nipple.

  Julian had no idea how it happened, but moments later they were both lying naked on the bed, bathed in golden candlelight, their bodies glistening with sweat. Rolling once, he put her atop him, spread her legs, and pushed himself inside her. She melted around him.

  “Ride me, sweet wanton,” he urged as he flexed his hips and thrust deeply.

  Lara took all of him. He felt her stretch as he filled her with his hardness. She eagerly complied when Drago clasped her bottom and lifted her up and down his engorged shaft, showing her what he wanted. Then he pulled out so just the tip of his swollen sex remained inside her, inviting her to take over.

  He felt her quivering breath on his cheek as Lara accepted the invitation, riding him like a stallion, until she spent herself upon his great staff. Then his own driving need took over. His roar of ecstasy vibrated the walls of their small wagon.

  They slept, then made love again. Few words were exchanged, for they knew what they had found together was doomed. Two unlikely people from different worlds had no right to find happiness together.

  The caravan left the next morning for Lockerbie. Julian helped herd the horses behind the wagons. The fair opened the day after tomorrow and Pietro wanted to reach their destination in plenty of time for the opening.

  A halt was called at dusk, and they camped that night in a protected valley beside a river. Julian eagerly anticipated the moment he and Lara could disappear and make love again. Within their gaudily draped wagon, Julian’s cares faded into a distant past. His responsibilities as head of the Thornton family no longer seemed important. His mission for the government held no sway when Lara was in his arms. Not even memories of Diana intruded within the walls of the cozy refuge he shared with Lara.

  The caravan rolled on its way shortly after dawn the next morning. Julian rode with the horses, his mind consumed with thoughts of Lara. Her passion had been inexhaustible last night, almost frantic. Did she sense that their time together was growing short? The walnut stain was wearing off his skin. He expected it to be gone entirely by the time the fair ended.

  They reached Lockerbie on the eve of the fair. Pietro chose a camping site not far from the fairgrounds, and soon the camp was bustling with activity. Lara had explained what would happen on the day of the fair. The women would wander through the fair, selling trinkets and telling fortunes. Ramona would have her own tent, where she would gaze into a crystal ball and foretell peoples’ futures for a silver coin. Pietro and the men not entertaining with song and dance would handle the sale of the horses.

  Julian decided to keep a low profile in the remote possibility that some of his friends, or his enemies, would attend the fair and recognize him. One couldn’t be too careful in his line of work.

  The camp quieted down early that night. Pietro spoke individually to each family before they retired. He wanted his horses to be in place and his people ready when the fair opened. The coins earned at the fair would be hoarded to last through the winter months. After the fair, Pietro intended to return Lara to her father and camp on the grounds of his country estate for the winter. Lara’s father had generously allowed Pietro’s band of Gypsies to camp on his property whenever they wished because of their ties to his daughter.

  Julian made slow, tender love to Lara that night. Twice he brought her to a shuddering climax. Before she drifted off to sleep, he asked her what she intended to do at the fair the next day.

  “I usually remain outside Ramona’s tent and invite people inside to have their fortunes told,” she said sleepily. “Pietro won’t allow me to wander about by myself like the other women.”

  A wave of fierce relief washed over Julian. He knew from experience that Gypsy women often sold their bodies and disappeared into the woods with their marks. Usually the men would return from the tryst missing a valuable piece of jewelry, or their purse. Julian knew Lara wouldn’t sell her body, but he feared some coarse man would mistake her for a whore and force her.

  “I’m glad,” Julian replied, yawning. “That’s one less thing I have to worry about. If you intended to wander about with the other women, I would have forbidden it. I won’t be nearby to protect you. I intend to remain close to the horses during the fair.”

  “Pietro always keeps an eye on me. I’ll be fine.”

  Satisfied, Julian pressed her into the curve of his body and let sleep claim him.

  Excitement prevailed throughout the camp the following morning. Breakfast was prepared and consumed and preparations were completed for the fair. The sun was not yet visible when Pietro and his followers set out for the fairgrounds. Julian followed behind with the horses.

  The stalls were just opening for the day. Lara went off with Ramona and Pietro while Julian helped herd the horses into a crude corral, where prospective buyers could examine the stock and dicker for the best bargain. It wasn’t long before fairgoers from towns near and far began streaming to the fairgrounds. Pietro’s horses were an instant hit.

  Julian had chosen the wrong place in which to maintain a low profile. Men milled around the horses most of the day. Deals were struck and horses were led off by satisfied new owners. At the close of the first day, enough prime horseflesh remained to warrant returning the following day.

  Julian was preparing to return to camp when someone tapped him on the shoulder. “I say, my good man, I’m interested in the dappled gray. Can I have a closer look?”

  Julian froze. That voice! He knew it as well as his own. Damnation! What was Sinjun doing so far from home? Julian turned slowly, gazing into his brother’s handsome face.

  To Sinjun’s credit, he did nothing to give away Julian’s identity. He merely stared, his mouth open, his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

  “Bloody hell, Julian, this is the last place I expected to find you. And dressed like a Gypsy, no less. You bloody well better have a good explanation. Emma is frantic with worry. Rory and I were on our way to London to look into your disappearance when we heard about the fair. It wasn’t too far out of our way so we made a detour to look over the horses.”

  “There’s no need for you to continue on to London,” Julian replied. “I’m returning to town after the fair.”

  Julian flinched when Sinjun clapped a hand on his injured shoulder. His wound was healed but was still tender.

  “Julian, what’s wrong?” Silence. “You’ve been hurt! God’s blood, what happened?”

  “ ’Tis nothing
, Sinjun,” Julian assured him. “Return home to Christy and the children. I’ll make my peace with Emma.”

  “You’re in trouble, Julian, I can sense it. Why are you dressed like a Gypsy? Where have you been? How can I help you?”

  Julian’s jaw firmed. “I can’t tell you. There’s nothing you can do for me now. If I need help, you’ll be the first to know.”

  From the corner of his eye, Julian saw Lara approaching and tried to send Sinjun on his way. It was not to be.

  “Drago! Are you ready to return to camp?”

  “Drago?” Sinjun echoed, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Say nothing,” Julian hissed.

  “Everyone is leaving,” Lara said, sending Julian a beguiling smile. “Are you coming?”

  “Run along, Lara, I’ll catch up with you,” Julian said, praying that Sinjun wouldn’t give away his identity. “I was discussing one of the horses with this gentleman.”

  Lara stared at Sinjun a long moment, then gave Julian an uncertain smile. “Very well. Don’t be long.” She hurried off to join a group of women returning to camp.

  Sinjun whistled softly. “What a little beauty. Do you want to tell me about her?”

  “Some other time,” Julian said, staring after Lara. The gentle sway of her hips sent hot blood surging through his loins. It took tremendous effort to tear his gaze away and return his attention to his brother.

  “So, ’tis like that, is it?” Sinjun said, chuckling knowingly. “I never thought you’d fall for a Gypsy wench. Not Julian, my very proper, very dull brother.”

  “Leave off, Sinjun,” Julian warned. “Go home. As you can see, I’m well.”

  “Are you taking your Gypsy mistress with you?”

  “Bloody hell!” Julian swore. “Lara would be out of place in London. Do you want the dappled gray or not?”

  “How much?”

  Julian named a price he knew would please Pietro. Sinjun looked the horse over and agreed to the price. Money was exchanged and Julian handed Sinjun the leading reins.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Sinjun asked.

  “Very sure.”

  “You bloody well better be,” Sinjun muttered. “Rory is around somewhere. I’ll collect him and return to Glenmoor. You will send word, won’t you?”

  Julian clapped Sinjun on the shoulder. “Aye, you have my word.”

  Sinjun led the horse off and Julian headed back to camp … and Lara. He couldn’t wait to make love to her in the privacy of their wagon again. He thought suddenly of Sinjun’s words. His brother seemed to think he was obsessed with Lara, even hinting that Julian had fallen in love with her. But that wasn’t the way of things, Julian reflected. Admittedly Lara was a distraction he hadn’t counted on, but he’d never let his obsession for the fiery Gypsy get in the way of duty.

  Julian took Lara off to their wagon directly after the meal that night. Though nothing was said, they both knew their time together was drawing to an end. Their loving that night, though no less ardent, was a poignant reminder that nothing was forever.

  At the end of the fair, a celebration was held to toast their good fortune during the week-long event. Much feasting, drinking, and merrymaking took place in the camp that night. Most of the horses had been sold and the fairgoers had been most eager to have their fortunes read. Even those selling trinkets were pleased with their success.

  Everyone except Julian and Lara were in a celebratory mood. Julian had decided not to continue on with the Gypsies. Before the feasting began, he sought out Pietro for a private word.

  “ ’Tis time for me to leave, Pietro.”

  “You must do what is best for you,” Pietro answered.

  “I will never forget what you and your people have done for me. I owe you my life. Tell me where to find you in the next few weeks and I will arrange for a proper reward.”

  Pietro shook his head. “We want nothing from you, Drago. Our band of Romany has been fortunate. We prosper and will continue to do so. You may take one of the horses to speed you on your journey.”

  “Thank you. Who knows? One day our paths may cross again.”

  “All I ask is that you make peace with my granddaughter. Your leaving will be difficult for her.”

  Guilt made Julian look away. “Pietro, this marriage … how can I explain it? I am English. My marriage to Lara will not hold up in a court of law. Lara is …”

  “… a Gypsy,” Pietro said with a hint of rebuke. “Far beneath you in rank.”

  Julian sent him a sharp look. “I do not believe I ever mentioned having a title.”

  “There was no need. It was obvious from the beginning that you are no common man. Nevertheless, we were pleased to have saved your life. Had not Lara claimed you as her husband, you would be dead now. You used her as a man uses a wife. Let your conscience be your guide where Lara is concerned.”

  “Conscience has nothing to do with my decision to leave,” Julian argued. “Lara was well aware of my intentions from the beginning. I don’t want to seem coldhearted, for Lara is a woman worthy of any man, but I will never marry. Certain things occurred in my past, things that made me renounce marriage.”

  Pietro searched his face. “You are a troubled man, Drago, haunted by events you cannot change. I will not chide you for using my granddaughter, for Ramona insisted that your coming to us was an act of God. If Lara’s future does not include you, then so be it. Go in peace, Drago. I believe we will meet again one day.”

  “Take care of Lara,” Julian replied. “In the short time I have known her, she has become dear to me.”

  He turned and walked away without waiting for Pietro’s response.

  Pietro stared after him, a thoughtful expression on his face. He placed an arm around Ramona’s shoulders when she joined him a few moments later.

  “Drago is leaving,” Ramona said. There was no question in her voice.

  “Aye. Tomorrow.”

  Ramona’s gaze found Lara as she moved about the camp. “ ’Tis not the end for them.”

  “Drago says it is.”

  “Pah! What does Drago know?” She clutched Pietro’s gnarled hand. “I fear for our granddaughter, husband.”

  Pietro kissed her wrinkled cheek. “We must believe that her father will protect her, Ramona. Should fate bring Drago and Lara together in London, they will find their own way.”

  Lara saw Drago talking to Pietro and knew intuitively what they discussed. Drago was leaving. She had known the day was coming and had thought herself prepared for it. But being prepared involved more than setting one’s mind to something. Her mind knew she and Drago were not meant to be together, but her heart refused to listen.

  Drago had made love to her without involving his heart. She couldn’t force love where none existed. Drago enjoyed making love to her, she knew that, but she also knew that he was anxious to leave and get on with his life. She wouldn’t stop him, although her greatest fear was that his enemies would find him once he left the protection of the Gypsy caravan.

  Lara hurried over to Drago the moment she saw him walk away from Pietro. “You’re leaving.” Her statement seemed to hit a raw note with him.

  He looked harried, driven, as if he were being torn in two. “We need to talk, Lara. Come inside our wagon.”

  Lara wasn’t quite ready to listen to Drago’s words of farewell. “Can it not wait?”

  “No.” He held out his hand. “Come.”

  She placed her hand in his and followed him to their wagon. He shut the door firmly behind them and led her to the bed. “Sit down.” Steeling her heart against his hurtful words, she perched on the edge of the bed.

  He began to pace; back and forth, back and forth.

  “Stop!” Lara shouted. “Just say what’s on your mind and get it over with.”

  Drago stopped abruptly and knelt before her. He grasped her hands. “I haven’t told you anything about myself for the simple reason that I wanted to protect you and your people from my enemies. The less you know
about me the safer you’ll be.”

  “So you’ve said,” Lara said tartly.

  “That hasn’t changed. We’ve already discussed our Rom marriage and you know my position.”

  Lara’s chin firmed. “I asked nothing from you.” Once she returned to her father, Drago’s name would never leave her lips. Only her heart would know her pain.

  “I would never have taken you had I suspected you were innocent,” Drago continued. “I lost my head. You seemed so willing to …”

  “I was willing.”

  Drago’s head jerked up. “I was the experienced one. I should have known. I will never forget you, Lara. Were things different …”

  “Things might be different if I weren’t a Gypsy,” Lara charged. “I can’t change what I am.”

  “No, and I can’t change what I am.”

  “How soon must you leave?”

  “Tomorrow. What little walnut stain remains on my skin can easily pass as a summer tan. My responsibilities …”

  “I don’t want to hear about them. Go if you must, I won’t stop you. Even Gypsies have pride.”

  Lara thought she’d never seen anyone so torn.

  “Try not to hate me, sweeting. Parting is not easy for me, either. I will always remember this time with you as an idyllic period in my life. Life has never been so simple or enjoyable.”

  Is that all you can say? Lara’s heart cried out.

  “I want to make love to you tonight, Lara, but not if you don’t want it.”

  Not want it? She craved it, needed it. “I would like that, Drago. Just tell me one thing. Is there another woman in your life?”

  The shadows in his eyes deepened. “Not anymore.”

  Lara heard all she needed to know. Obviously Drago was one of those men who loved only once, deeply, with their whole hearts. No other woman could ever take the place of the one he lost.

  She lifted her face. “Kiss me, Drago. Tonight you are mine. Look at me and tell me you are thinking of another woman when you make love to me.”

  Drago joined her on the bed. “I think of no one but you, my Gypsy spitfire. Your scent, your taste, you arouse me beyond bearing.”