Revenge Wears Rubies

by Renee Bernard

  “Take off your bonnet.”

  “Galen?”

  All he could do was look at her, knowing that the hunger in his face would be impossible for her to mistake. And without another word, she reached up to untie the green silk ribbon of her bonnet, setting it aside on the seat next to her.

  Her lips parted and her pink tongue nervously darted out to wet the soft wedge of her lower lip, and Galen’s grip on the cushions tightened until his knuckles showed white.

  Without another spoken word, she moved toward him, awareness in her blue green eyes, like a doe approaching the hunter, a willing and eager sacrifice. And his body mercilessly responded, every nerve ending insisting that he take all that she offered and more.

  “Damn it!” he muttered involuntarily.

  Her eyes widened at the quiet curse, but he reached for her, averse to waiting for a protest. For time had lost its meaning since she’d left his bed and Galen was half-convinced she’d bewitched him somehow. He felt compelled to prove that he was still master of his own will and that he truly had the upper hand with her. He grasped her upper arms and pulled her against him, kissing her as if he’d waited a century to taste her again. As if she alone possessed the nectar of life, he drank it from her lips with an insatiable thirst. She responded with an enthusiasm that incinerated the last vestige of his self-control.

  He cradled her face in his hands, his fingers sliding into her hair and fisting in her curls as if he could absorb her into himself. This was a kiss meant to conquer, and Haley surrendered to him. He inhaled the scent of her skin and detected a trace of honeysuckle, but beneath the flowers there was something earthier, and he knew instantly it was the scent of her arousal. His hand slid up her skirt, over the alluring curves of her calves and thighs to slip through the open seam in her underclothes. Galen’s fingers found her soaking wet and ready for him. He shifted his fingers up to tease her clit before pushing one of his fingers up into the slick of her quim, and Galen was struck again by how tight she was—

  He couldn’t wait any longer. At the first thought of how close he was to having her again, he was in danger of wasting himself in his clothes. Galen was furious at himself for this new weakness, but helpless to deny it.

  He pushed her away, only to instantly turn her around so that her back was to him, awkwardly perched for a moment in between the seats.

  “Galen?” she asked breathlessly.

  He held her hips to hold her steady with alternating hands as he quickly worked her skirts up over her hips and untied her drawers to bare her tantalizing bottom. She gasped but made no protest, instinctively leaning forward to place her hands on the seat cushions for balance, as he spread her legs apart so that she stood across his lap. Galen’s cock jerked against his breech buttons at the sight of her ass, like a ripe peach spread before him, with the wet pink of her sex just waiting for him.

  He made quick work of his buttons and freed his cock, holding the head with one hand and reaching up to start to pull her back down onto him. Galen grit his teeth as he guided her hips until their flesh touched in a unique damp kiss. He pushed the swollen tip of his cock into the searing hold of her channel’s slick opening and then bucked upward as he gripped her hips to pull her down in a merciless stroke.

  She cried out softly, and he could feel the muscles of her body seizing onto him, accommodating him with a hold that made him want to weep at the glorious embrace on his cock-stand. Galen held onto her hips and bucked up, again and again, driving up into her as she moved with him to deepen each touch, increasing the friction and length of every pounding caress. Faster and faster, he worked his body into hers, until he knew he couldn’t prevent his climax.

  He came so hard, he groaned at the force of the cascade of ecstasy that shimmered and exploded out from the base of his spine and throughout his frame. Galen felt each pulse as his crème rushed into her, rocking his hips into each spasm to prolong his pleasure. After a few minutes, he gently kissed the back of her neck while the rest of his sensibilities finally began to function again.

  Well, that was the best temper tantrum I’ve ever thrown. . . . God, I’m an idiot!

  If he’d meant to assure himself that his memory had enhanced their first encounter, he’d only succeeded in proving that she was capable of reducing him to a mindless rutting bull after a single glimpse of her tongue. She’d matched him perfectly, yielding to the raw onslaught of a searing, bruising passion, responding to his every move and equaling his desire. But he wasn’t sure her reaction excused him, or if any excuse could save a small shred of his pride.

  He gingerly disengaged himself from between her thighs, drawing his breath through his teeth at the sensation of cool air against his sensitive wet cock. As quickly as he could he refastened his pants, then assisted her in pulling her skirts and petticoats back down, attempting to restore some order to her appearance. She began to blush as he reached to turn down the hem of her underskirt.

  “Galen?”

  He pulled her back into his arms, this time to gently tip her back to cradle her against his chest. He dipped his tongue into the sensitive corner of her lips, making her gasp before he gave her what he knew she deemed “a proper kiss.” He did everything he could to soothe where before his kisses may have bruised, until she sighed her pleasure and sagged against him. He lifted his head, unsure of what a man could possibly say after losing control as he had.

  “I’m so sorry . . . I’m sure I had some bit of conversation prepared . . . or the diversion of a witty story of poor Bradley’s efforts to fuss about the house without speaking to me. But, Haley, I meant to be—more tender this time.” He ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “I had every intention of making love to you very slowly after we’d gotten back to the house. . . .”

  “You’ve changed your plans then?”

  His cock became hard again at the shy gleam in her eyes, and for several seconds, there was no sound inside the carriage but their ragged breathing. “No, I don’t think I have.”

  Haley stretched slowly out on his bed, lying on her stomach, even wiggling her toes in innocent pleasure at how delightful Galen’s attentions were—at any speed. She turned her face into the pillow to breathe in the sandalwood scent. His rush in the carriage had caught her by surprise, but no less than her own rush to have him inside of her again. She was sure it wasn’t the behavior of a lady to melt at the very idea of being rogered soundly with the London public on the other side of a thin carriage wall and curtains—but she’d melted nonetheless.

  She’d even forgotten her discomfort with small spaces, as she’d clutched at the seat and walls for balance while he pressed into her so deeply she’d almost cried at the myriad of sensations.

  He’d looked at her exactly as he had when he’d watched her during the music concert, and Haley had fearlessly given herself into his hands, reveling in his raw lust for her body—and accepted that Galen had been right when he’d spoken in Hyde Park. I needed to be swept off my feet, and if this afternoon’s romp doesn’t qualify, then I’m sure Galen will demonstrate it soon enough.

  “What are you thinking over there, Miss Moreland?”

  “I’m wondering how it’s possible that I can . . . be so wicked. . . .” She blushed. “This all seems so . . . unlike me. But when you look at me like that . . . I can’t remember being any different.” She covered her eyes. “I’m not making sense. And it’s foolish to think I’ve come this far and can still feel so . . . conflicted.”

  “It’s only natural. A lifetime of civilized habits can’t be dropped without a few echoes of hesitation and doubt, can they?”

  “You don’t seem to hesitate, Galen.”

  “I know what I want.” He came back to the bed, stretching himself out alongside her body, and began lazily trailing his fingers down the bare skin of her back and making her shudder in delight. He circled back upward over her shoulder blades before following the line of her spine and teasing the soft rise of her bottom with his w
hisper-light strokes.

  “What do you want?” Haley glanced at him flirtatiously over her shoulder. “And be as specific as you can, sir.”

  His emerald eyes seemed to darken for a moment, and it was as if they were back on that darkened balcony. He looked dangerous, and at the same time so alluring, her breath caught in her throat.

  “At the end of the day, I want all the scales to finally balance so that I can sleep,” he said, and then planted a lingering kiss on her shoulder. “No less than any man, Haley.”

  “I’m having trouble picturing you just as ‘any man,’ Galen. For I cannot think of anyone I’ve met who . . . looks at me as you do.”

  “And how do I look at you?” he asked, gently pushing her onto her back so that he could continue the light sweep of his fingers across her skin. He slowly circled her breast, spiraling in on each coral- tipped point until they were stiff and sensitive under his hands.

  Haley arched her back, instantly feeling a connection between the hardened tips of her breasts and the pooling warmth between her legs. She reached for him, using his own trick on him as she mirrored his touch through the soft black swirls of hair on his chest to tease his flesh and was rewarded as he pulled her into his arms.

  “Ever since I first met you on that balcony, I should have known you were going to be like Greek fire—impossible to put out the flames once ignited.”

  She smiled. “Am I so insatiable?”

  “In the best and most challenging ways, Miss Moreland.”

  Her brow furrowed briefly. “May I ask . . . why were you seeking me that night? You didn’t know who I was on the balcony, but Mrs. Bianca said you’d asked for me, for an introduction at the start of the evening. Why?”

  The question caught him off guard. “I’d already heard another man commenting on your beauty in the foyer when I arrived, and I admit I was curious.”

  She smiled but sat up in the bed, lifting the sheets to wrap around her breasts. “But what brought you out to Bascombe’s that night? You clearly despise the man, and if what he said was true about your reluctance to attend public events . . .”

  “I’d heard an old friend might also be there that night, and I thought it was time to show my face again.” Galen seized her hips and lifted her back onto him, distracting her with the move that pulled the sheet from her hands and nestled the wet silk of her slit back up against his reawakening cock. “All these questions, Madame Inquisitor? I can think of better ways to torture information out of me.”

  “Yes, but . . .” She caught her breath as he slid her forward so that the molten tip of his swollen head was pressing against her clit. “I’m . . . forgetting my . . . questions. . . .”

  “Ah! Then it’s working . . .” He laughed and positioned her above his erection, notching himself just inside of her body while he held her hips to suspend her in place. “Let the torture begin, my lady.”

  He pulled her down, impaling her in one stroke, and Haley groaned as the last of her questions was forgotten entirely.

  Haley set her bonnet aside, her fingers trailing over the soft ribbons, and she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, smiling. It was the secretive and supremely happy look of a woman in love, and Haley almost didn’t recognize her reflection. For one fleeting second, she could have sworn she saw her mother there.

  “Would you need anything, Miss?” Emily asked quietly from the doorway. “I finished basting the new morning gown, if you’d care to see it.”

  “Already finished?” Haley shook her head in disbelief. “I’d love to see it.”

  Emily brought it out from behind her back, shyly holding it up for inspection.

  Haley turned the seams and admired the handiwork. “You’ve quite a talent, Emily, and such speed! Although”—she looked at Emily, suddenly concerned—“you didn’t lose precious sleep over this dress, did you?”

  “I may have lost track of the hours, but . . . it were a pleasure, Miss. And I wasn’t sure if you’d need it sooner,” Emily explained as if to apologize for the dark circles under her eyes.

  Haley held up the simple morning dress, seeing each turned flounce and feathered pleat with new eyes. Lost track of the hours because I was too distracted to tell her that there was no hurry at all—and now she has a full day ahead of her, poor thing!

  She looked back at Emily, seeing her anew. “There is nothing I need that is important enough to rob you of your sleep. But it’s truly beautiful work, Emily.” She handed it back to the maid. “Please finish it at your leisure and then we’ll make a day dress, for your days off.”

  “F-for me?” Emily’s eyes widened. “A new dress?”

  It was customary to give one’s ladies’ maid castoffs or off-season outfits that a lady no longer desired, but Haley’s wardrobe was so new, she could hardly see what difference it made. Emily had been taking the part of ladies’ maid since her arrival in London, and Haley didn’t want to seem ungenerous. But Emily being so petite and round, making a dress to fit her seemed a far kinder gift. Still, her father was constantly fussing that she was too soft-hearted a mistress and she didn’t want to lose Emily’s respect. “Yes, as part of your lessons, of course. Then when someone wishes a hem or an adjustment, why you’ll know so many tricks from having built your own creation that they will want to keep you forever as a treasure. Won’t that be lovely?”

  Emily nodded, her eyes watering with joyful tears. “Yes, Miss Moreland.”

  Aunt Alice appeared behind the girl, and watched in bemusement as Emily hurried off clutching the morning dress as if it were the Holy Grail itself. “Did you just make that creature cry?”

  “You know I didn’t!” Haley moved to her vanity table, hoping Alice wouldn’t notice anything different about her, and began to rearrange her hair to comb it out. “Not in the way you’re suggesting!”

  “No, I suppose not.” Alice smiled. “You’re spoiling the servants, Haley.”

  “I am not!” Haley turned on her chair. “Has . . . there been some complaint or lapse that I’m not aware of?”

  “None!” Alice ran a finger over the top of a shelf and held up her clean finger as if to underline her point. “Indeed, Mr. Weathers is recovered, and while I’m not sure the man is capable of smiling, he actually looked as if he might when I saw him last. Mrs. Biron is singing your praises and made inquiries to see if you will be taking any staff with you to your new home.”

  “My new home?”

  Alice’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Yes, when you marry . . .”

  “Oh, yes! My new home!” Haley was astonished at how far her mind had wandered, her face heated with embarrassment. She hated lying to her dear aunt, but she wasn’t sure how much more she should say until Mr. Trumble made an announcement of his own. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Well.” Alice stepped closer. “I’m afraid that’s what’s worrying me. You’ve got to take a hand in these things! Surely you’re not going to let Herbert determine every household decision? Granted, men are masters of the universe and all that rot, but no niece of mine is going to blithely forget to insist on hiring her own cook!”

  Haley tried to maintain a serious and interested expression. “I’m sure I won’t.”

  Aunt Alice didn’t appear convinced. “I know you think I’m a tyrant to go on about starting out the way you mean to finish, but it’s true, dearest. You’ve been as meek as a lamb lately, and despite all these afternoons of shopping, you’ve not mended your ways! I don’t see a single package, and there have certainly been no deliveries, Haley!” Her aunt sat down with a heartfelt sigh. “Frugality can be extremely unattractive, dearest. Please, appease a treacherous and greedy old woman and spend the man’s money! I’m beginning to worry that this self-denial is becoming a terrible habit.”

  Haley had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She had just spent an afternoon in the most indulgent and decadent manner, but she could hardly point out that she had recently abandoned self-denial in its
most basic form. “There’s no need to worry on that account.”

  “What in the world is keeping you from loading up your carriage with all the latest London fashions?” Alice pressed, her brow furrowing.

  “If you must know, I just like to look. I can study what I wish, and then when I want, I’ll make my own creations—and be happier for the effort.”

  Alice’s expression changed to genuine concern. “Herbert made his position clear on that matter, Haley. Unless you’ve had another conversation on the subject, I’m not sure this is—”

  “I’m not married yet, and until I am, I will do as I please and please myself while I can, Aunt Alice.” She held her breath for an instant, a little surprised at her own cheek. “How’s that for mischief?”

  Alice nodded, a smile lighting up her face and making her look young again. “If I’d known you were up to no good, I’d have banished you out of the house and sent you window-shopping on your own from our first day in Town!”

  Haley blushed and turned back to her dressing table to comb out her long hair. “I’m blessed to have you for a chaperone, Aunt Alice.”

  “From now on, I shall fuss if you are not out pleasing yourself!” Aunt Alice went on, oblivious to the impact her encouragement was having on poor Haley’s efforts to look calm.

  “Yes, Aunt Alice.”

  Chapter 14

  The next afternoon, they were stealing a few more hours, lolling about in Galen’s four-poster bed. He was fingering one long curl of her hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around his wrist and hands, enjoying the silky sensation of it.

  Once more, in the wake of having her, instead of simply feeling satiated, Galen wrestled with an increasing attachment to her, a desire to keep her close and linger in her presence. The more he experienced her, the more beautiful and enticing she was growing, and the puzzle of it was as intoxicating as the woman.