Heart of the Diamond

by Carrie Brock

  He eased Nicole down to the carpeted floor, rested his elbows on either side of her to keep from crushing her with his weight. Her pale hair was trapped beneath his arms, but she gazed up at him with infinite trust.

  “I . . . I do not wish to disappoint you,” she whispered, the slightest tremor in her voice.

  The firelight flickered over them, creating dancing shadows. He brushed his finger along her cheek. “You could never disappoint me, my love. How could you when you are the ideal I have spent my life searching for—and never hoped to find?”

  The shadow of a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “Promise?”

  “On my honor.”

  With the softest of sighs, she drew his head down to hers. So trusting. How he hated the thought that he must cause her pain before they could fulfill the thorough promise of ecstasy. If only he could be certain he would make this night wonderful for her.

  Kissing her thoroughly, he sensed her start to relax. The scented curve where her neck met her shoulder beckoned him. Trailing kisses along her delicate jaw, he paused to pay homage to the sensitive skin below her ear. Then he moved on to the juncture at the base of her throat where a pulse beat wildly beneath his mouth. Nicole clutched at his shoulders, her nails pressed into his skin sharply in reaction.

  Blake rolled on to his side and bent to kiss one pink-tipped breast. Nicole stiffened slightly, then gave in with a soft cry. Her fingers entwined in his hair to draw him closer.

  “Oh, Blake!”

  He slid his palm along her flat stomach, tantalizingly close to down-soft curls, then on to her slender thighs. The fragrance of her passion mingled with that of roses, adding to the sharpness of his own desire.

  At the top of one silky stocking he paused, then swept kisses over Nicole's abdomen as he removed first one, then the other, then lower to the translucent skin of her inner thighs. When she tensed, he claimed her mouth in a kiss once again.

  Nicole writhed beneath his hand, arched in a wanting he understood too well. He could not restrain himself much longer. Tasting her sweetness with his touch, she responded eagerly in turn. Her hips rose against his hand as his fingers took similar license amidst the tender femininity no man had ever before touched.

  He sensed her mounting desire in the way her hands ran hungrily over his chest, then to his shoulders to clutch at him in her innocent need. The feeling she evoked became the wind that sent the flames of his desire out of control.

  And when her cool hand closed over his manhood, Blake groaned in both agony and ecstasy. “Good God, Nicole!”

  She snatched her hand away. “I—oh, Blake, I am sorry!”

  “No, sweet—you did nothing . . . wrong.” He struggled to regain some control, but his desire throbbed inside him. “You are the most exciting creature I have ever known. I never know what to expect, and I adore that freshness.”

  With infinite care, she returned her hand to clasp him lightly. “I adore you, my Lord Diamond.”

  As he held her gaze, he lifted his body over her. At the gentle nudging of his knees, Nicole parted her legs to allow him to brace himself between them.

  He leaned forward to kiss her, ravenous for her, starving for the culmination of their union. Nicole released her hold and he took over to guide himself to her moist entrance. As he rubbed against the sensitive folds, she moaned beneath his mouth, her hips arching upward. Blake grasped as he slipped inside her. She surrounded him tightly. Gently, he began the cadence of lovers. Barred by the tissue of her maidenhead and the tightness of her passage, he held back.

  He traced kisses along the delicate line of her cheekbone to her ear. “I am sorry, my love,” he said softly.

  With a cry, Nicole lifted her hips as Blake drove downward. The fragile barrier ripped, and Blake froze deep inside her, deeper than he had meant to go.

  This woman would never fail to amaze him. She had taken equal responsibility for this event. His precious Nicole. As he kissed her face, the salt of her tears slipped into his mouth, bittersweet.

  He spoke into her ear, his voice husky with emotion. “Ah, sweet, the pain is brief—now we have only the pleasure.”

  Inside her softness, surrounded by the velvet sheath, Blake began to move. He held back the yearning of his body that demanded he quicken the pace. His mouth returned to Nicole's, kissing her deeply. The wet of her desire surrounded him as she arched to meet each careful thrust, increasing the speed of her movements as she neared her release.

  Attuned to the nuances of her body, Blake matched her passion. Desire like none he had ever experienced consumed him, pulled from him the very core of his being to unite it with the woman in his arms. Her slim legs tightened around his waist, allowing him deeper entrance into the warm, honeyed passage.

  So sweet. So perfect.

  Nicole clutched at his shoulders. “I love you so much,” she whispered fiercely.

  And with a gasp from her kiss-swollen lips, nearly imperceptible shudders convulsed along his shaft. The sensations drove him wild. His body thundered toward the climax he hungered for.

  She was a mystical creature, a wraith not of this world. And making love to her was so fresh, so pure. He felt reborn.

  Depleted, content, he collapsed over her. Nicole's fingers traced invisible pictures over the skin of his back. God, he was tired—and happy. More happy than he had ever dreamed possible. He lifted himself to look down at her face. Had he disappointed her? How badly he wanted her to feel the same exaltation he did. The same innate sense of . . . coming home.

  Tenderly, Nicole touched his face. “I once believed kissing your strong suit, but you have talents beyond my imagining. I have chosen my husband well.”

  Blake grinned, pushing a pale strand of hair away from the corner of her mouth. “You are incorrigible, my dear.”

  “If I was not, we might never have come to this.”

  “Oh, yes, we would have. If I had to kidnap you gagged and trussed like a Christmas goose . . .”

  Her mouth trembled, and tears sprang in her eyes. “I love you so much, Blake. Do you think we made a baby?”

  The thought constricted Blake's chest until he had to force the words from his throat. “Nothing would please me more than to know my child grows inside you. But I am at your service to continue the process until we are certain—even after.”

  “You shall be a very busy man, my Lord Diamond.” She smiled softly. Her eyes were a deep blue-green and he knew he would drown forever in their depths.

  “I am up for the challenge.” Blake smiled and rolled to one side. He pulled Nicole with him so she nestled beneath his arm.

  The glint of his ring in the firelight reminded him of the revenge that had brought him to this lovely girl. That revenge had been banished from his heart to be replaced by joy and the promise of a future filled with love. Blake reached around Nicole to pry the ring from his finger.

  He took her hand and slipped the ring over her thumb, the only finger it would fit. “I love you, Nicole Dylan, with all that I am and all that I have.”

  Nicole stared at the ring, then closed her hand and pressed her fist to her heart. “And I love you . . . though I wish I did not have to be a countess.”

  Blake chuckled softly. His eyelids were heavy. “You will be the most exquisite Countess of Diamond in history.”

  The clock chimed. Blake closed his eyes. Smiling, he gave in to sleep.

  . . .

  Nicki listened to the steady beat of Blake's heart. His soft, even breathing assured her he had fallen asleep. Slowly, she raised herself to one elbow and gazed down into his face. Her hair, freed from the ribbon at some point, slipped across her shoulder to spill over her hand resting on his chest. Certain he would awaken, Nicki waited, but he slept on.

  A wealth of emotion clogged her throat. He was beautiful—inside and out. She had known it, had sensed it, and tonight he had once again proven her correct. This was her knight in shining armor, her hero, and later today he would become her husband.
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br />   A situation that had appeared so dire to her several weeks past had turned out to be a miracle. The love of this man had become a blessing—and she would not have to forego the warmth and security of her family. All so perfect.

  Nicki experienced a slight twinge of guilt that she had insisted on making love this morning. But somehow her heart had ached for a bonding of another sort. She flushed. Blake had shown her how glorious the physical union between a man and woman could be. If it were possible, she believed she must love him more than ever. She had given him something very private from within herself and he had cherished her, in the process imparting a piece of himself to her.

  He had called her Nicole Dylan. The ceremony this evening would join them in matrimony, but in their hearts they were already husband and wife.

  Nicki swallowed the lump in her throat. She lifted her hand from Blake's chest and pressed her fingers to her lips before transferring the kiss to his mouth.

  As she rose with aching slowness, Blake frowned slightly in his sleep. Nicki froze. His expression relaxed and she drew in a relieved breath. One stocking had become pinned beneath his leg. At Blake's feet, she tugged gently until it came free. Then she searched about for the remainder of her clothes.

  A quick glance at Blake assured her he slept on. If he awakened he would insist on escorting her back to Langley Hall, and she wanted him to rest. When she arrived home, that was exactly what she intended to do.

  Nicki moved to stand behind the wing chair where she slipped her clothes on. As she struggled with the fastenings at the back of her gown, she experienced an uncomfortable jolt of amazement that Blake had been so skilled at undoing them. But she would dwell on that particular talent of his at a later date.

  Her gaze was drawn once again to Blake, sprawled on the soft carpet in all his naked male splendor. The fire burned brightly, yet Nicki hesitated to leave him. She glanced about and spied his evening jacket lying on the settee. Quickly, she retrieved the garment and returned to the fire where she draped it across the lower half of Blake's body. Using the brass tongs in the stand next to the hearth, she dropped a few more pieces of coal into the fire.

  Satisfied, she made one last attempt to locate her hair ribbon, but it was no where to be found, and she dared not tarry any longer. She grabbed her cloak, moved to the door, and paused long enough to slip the velvet cape over her shoulders. The strings were tied at her throat before raising the voluminous hood over her head.

  One last look at Blake as she opened the French doors. Softly, she blew him a kiss. “Sleep well, my love. You have a busy day—and night—ahead of you.”

  Chapter 24

  . . .

  Nicki closed the front door softly, but despite her efforts the lock clicked. Wincing, she glanced around. Several wall lamps burned low. Langley Hall slept. With an exhausted sigh, she pushed the hood of her cloak back and tugged wearily at the strings at her throat.

  A grunting snore erupted at the end of the hallway. Simms. A wave of dismay swept over Nicki. With the other exciting occurrences of the evening, the drugged butler had slipped to the back of her mind.

  She hurried along the carpeted hall to find Simms curled up beneath a side table near the study, his hands tucked beneath his cheek. He wore an expression of sublime peace on his blue face, seemingly none the worse for wear as a result of his mistreatment. With a smile, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders and draped it over him. Simms snuggled into the still warm fabric with a sigh of contentment.

  Nicki turned to leave, then paused to sniff. She wrinkled her nose. Sherry. The smell hung in the air, as noticeable as Teddy's cologne. She glanced at the door to her father's office where it stood slightly ajar. Nicki stepped closer and pushed against the heavy oak.

  The full reek of sherry rushed to meet her. Nicki covered her nose with her hand, and took a hesitant step into the room. She looked toward the cabinet bearing Shelby's contraption.

  Something was wrong. The box gaped open, wires and springs spilled from inside and jutted in every direction. Had the machine malfunctioned? If it had gone off, surely the alarm would have raised the entire household.

  Shadows came to life with such speed that Nicki's fatigued mind could not form a cognizant thought. A man materialized to grab her wrist, jerk it behind her back, and join it to her other hand so he held both in one merciless grip. His other hand moved to clamp over her mouth, stifling her delayed cry with cruel disregard. He yanked her roughly against him. Nicki cried out again, but his hand muffled the sound. She squirmed in his grasp, kicked backward with her feet. Her captor eluded her efforts for the most part, but when one foot made contact, he wrenched her arms upward sharply until she stilled.

  Her eyes burned and teared from the close proximity to the main source of the sherry odor, though she took some minor satisfaction in the thought that he must be suffering more than she.

  “Oh, ain't ye the bright one—settin’ traps like a bloody constable, m'lady. Such a smart girl, y'are. But not smart enough t’not get yerself caught. ‘ave ye more tricks fer me?” The voice hissed into her ear.

  Nicki tried but could not put a face to the voice. She lunged away from him and he chuckled.

  “I might've known th’ grand earl would choose a ball o’ fire like ye. Ye would've given him grand sons t’ carry on th’ proud Diamond name.”

  Nicki stiffened, then drooped wearily. Would've? The turn of phrase certainly did not bode well for her future health. She strained her gaze toward the door. If only Simms would awaken.

  Then she saw a shadow cross the light filtering into the room. Screaming, she bit into the hand pressed so tightly against her mouth. She stomped her feet on the floor, but the delicate slippers and the carpet muffled any sound.

  Nicki could see Teddy pause in the doorway, so she pitched all her weight forward in an effort to escape. The man pulled her hands up harshly toward her shoulder blades and forced Nicki to her knees. He went with her, keeping his fingers tight over her lips. Head spinning from the excruciating pain in her shoulders, she sagged, but he would not allow her to fall. Instead, the man yarded her backwards until she rested against his legs. Pleading mutely, Nicki looked up at Teddy through tear filled eyes. Do something, anything, she begged silently.

  Teddy stepped further into the room. “What are you doing with her?”

  “She came nosin’ around. I couldn't let ‘er wake th’ rest of th’ bloody coves, now could I?”

  Nicki shook her head in disbelief. It was a game. This was a clever ruse on Teddy's part. Any moment he would charge the beast holding her.

  “It's all over. She'll not be marrying him now,” Teddy said, avoiding her gaze.

  “Oh? Jus’ look at ‘er, sir. Where d'ye think she's been this time o’ th’ morn? She's been in ‘is bed, I tell ye.”

  Teddy scrutinized her more closely, then nodded sadly. “She said she loved him. Poor, sweet Nicki. So gullible where that misplaced emotion is concerned.”

  Meeting his sorrowful gaze, anger and loathing filled Nicki until she knew she would be physically ill. Her friend. The boy she had worshiped had become a man who was no more than a selfish, petty criminal. She had no clue to the reasons for his betrayal. They did not matter now. The only truth that existed was that he had hurt her and was allowing someone else to hurt her. Teddy was no longer her friend. He had chosen to become her enemy.

  “What d’ye want me t’do now?” asked Nicki's captor in a whining tone.

  Teddy scanned the room. His gaze paused on a knitted throw tossed across the back of her father's settee. Following the direction of his interest, Nicki felt the blood pounding through her head. Without sparing her a glance, Teddy crossed the room to retrieve the blanket. He shook it out, seeming to gauge its size, before he retraced his steps. A pause near her father's desk and he bent down to pick up one of the small bronze serpents—a cobra with its head arched and neck flared. What did Teddy want with the figurine?

  “Well?” asked the stranger.
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  “I suggest you stop asking questions. We will continue with the original plan. Nicki and I will be married. Dylan will be left standing at the altar before half of London. He'll return to America with his tail between his legs, have no doubt.”

  Nicki could not fathom what she was hearing. Marry Teddy? Tears stung her burning eyes. Once she might have happily wed Teddy Bartholomew, but now her heart and soul belonged completely to the Earl of Diamond. She thought of all the mistrust and betrayal they had overcome, the sweetness of their lovemaking tonight. If she was not at the wedding . . .

  The man at her back tensed. “Oh, and don't that sound jus’ like ‘im, runnin’ away like a bloody coward,” he snapped sarcastically. “I seen what ‘e’s like. ‘e’ll search every inch of th’ country to find ‘er.”

  Almost wistfully, Teddy examined the figurine in his hand. “I'm very good at duplicating handwriting. Nicki will leave behind a touching farewell to Dylan, and a note apologizing to her father and dear Angelica for all the trouble she's caused by following her heart.”

  Waves of despair and pain crashed against her soul. Nicki closed her eyes tightly, but insistent tears trickled down her cheeks. It galled her to reveal her weakness to these hateful men.

  From deep inside came Blake's voice—strong and confident. I should have told you then I had fallen in love with you. She had worked so hard for that declaration. Teddy—this monster holding her like some minion of Satan—could never take from her the sweetness of that victory.

  If Teddy did succeed in marrying her, she would make certain his future life would be an eternal hell. He would never be free to trust her from his sight. And she would never cease fighting him—never give up striving for escape so she might return to Blake. Nicki opened her eyes.

  In morbid fascination, she stared at the statue Teddy hefted so casually. His intent crashed upon her as though the ceiling had come down about her ears.