“There is something you have not yet considered, minx.”
Emma did not like the sound of that. She was excellent at calculations. “What might that be?”
Lucian’s right brow shot up. “What if Dempsey rejoins Whitehall? He knows of your disguise.”
She shook her head. “You heard him. Dempsey is going to his sister’s home.”
“What if he changes his mind?” Lucian’s brow rose even higher. “Or what if Whitehall finds him and makes him talk?”
Emma did not want to admit she hadn’t thought of that. Nor did she wish to commend Lucian. She heaved a sigh. “The chances of either are slim and slimmer.”
He gave her hands a slight shake. “But a risk, nonetheless. Which is why you must not be out there on your own. Not to mention you have no money. How will you eat?” He stopped a moment and gave her a serious glare. “Promise me you will not try to leave on your own again. You will be much safer traveling to Bristol in the coach.”
“Now I must point out something you have yet to consider.”
Both brows rose. “Oh?”
“Earls travel in fancy coaches. Do you not think the men would want to see who is inside?” She could tell she had him there and almost smiled.
He blew out a breath. “A compromise, then.”
Emma pursed her lips, her suspicions rising. “What compromise?”
“Promise to never again try to leave me…” He placed his finger against her lips when she started to speak. “You can remain dressed as a boy and we will take horses instead of the coach.”
That would at least keep Jeremy and Evie from getting tangled up in this mess. She sighed against his finger. “Done.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
He lowered his hand and something glinted in his eyes. “Then we must seal the deal with a kiss.”
Hot and cold tingles invaded her belly as Lucian moved forward. He pressed his lips against hers and she became weightless. Like floating in a warm pond, she had no sense of time or place. For a while, she would worry about nothing.
His tongue, hot and slick, slid into her mouth, gliding in smooth strokes against hers. Emma could not get close enough to him. She wound her arms around his neck and slid her fingers into his cool, soft hair. Yet, it wasn’t close enough. She needed more.
Lucian’s kisses were equal ecstasy and torment. How could something feel so good and not satisfy the burning need inside? His deft fingers pulled her stocking cap away and plucked the pins from her hair. They plinked to the floor and he massaged her scalp, increasing the tingles, making goose flesh pop out on her arms.
Her hands slid to his back. Through the thin material of his nightshirt, his muscles bunched at her touch. He made a low sound and deepened the kiss. Her center burned as her need intensified.
Emma registered the cool air on her skin as Lucian continued to kiss her. How had he managed to shed her clothes? Her breath hitched when his fingers grazed the side of her breast. She heard nothing but the blood pounding in her ears. His lips slid from hers and kissed a slow, tantalizing path down the column of her neck.
Breathing in deep gulps, she leaned back, until her head met the soft bed. Lucian could to anything, except stop. His lips scalded as he crept down her collar bone. Emma gripped the blankets with both hands, else she lift to the ceiling. Her nipples had turned to stone peaks and begged for him to kiss her there. As if sensing her thoughts, Lucian hesitated a moment, making her breath stop, then he settled his warm, wet lips on her right breast.
When he drew the nipple inside his mouth, Emma groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to experience each excruciating tingle wracking her body. Lucian’s hands slid lower, down her waist, to her hips. His wicked fingers stroked her skin, getting a little closer to where she wanted him the most, making her pant.
His lips left her long enough to continue the assault on the other breast, making her body shake. If he stopped now, she thought she would die. “Lucian, please,” she choked out, moving her head from side to side. Her drenched center stung as it cried out for satisfaction only Lucian could bring. She needed him to touch her there, and she needed it now.
Leaving her breast, Lucian slid down, kissing and tasting her. Her breaths were choppy pants as she waited for him to ease the torment. Clutching the bedding, she would not move, lest he stop. Lower and lower he went and his tongue delved into her navel, making her gasp.
Emma held her breath when he slid his hands beneath each cheek and gave her a squeeze.
“Would you like me to continue, minx?”
She choked out a yes.
With a soft chuckle, his thumbs slid over her stinging, wet lips and parted her.
Emma didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She could only focus on sating the ravenous need engulfing her. He inched forward. At first, she had no idea what he was about, then felt the tiny flick of his tongue against the most sensitive place on her body, the tiny bud of her center.
She bucked at the contact, then drew in a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind spun. And as Lucian gave her another taste, Emma was sure her spirit would depart her body. She would die from pure, raw bliss.
Easing her legs up to give him better access, she wound them around his neck. He groaned and delved his tongue into her as a reward. A tightness wound inside her, like a clock spring being twisted. And the more Lucian sucked and licked, the tighter it became. The most exquisite torture.
His lips moved back to the throbbing bud, begging to be suckled. Emma hissed, choking on her pleasure. He drew the tiny bead in between his lips and gave a long pull. Just when the spring gave another twist, he moved a hand and slid a finger around her slick entrance.
“Lucian,” she panted, moving her head from side to side.
Then he inserted his finger, withdrew, and slid back in.
Everything exploded in a flash of multicolored lights. Emma bucked hard against him, groaning his name. Her inner muscles tightened around his finger as he slid in and out, then he moved his hand and kissed her once more as the tremors wracking her body died down.
Nothing could have prepared Emma for what she experienced. No written words, no spoken words. Only experiencing the passion for herself. And with no one but Lucian. Something deep within told her that was true. No one else could bring her to the edge of heaven like that.
As she floated back down, she felt Lucian lift away. Emma cracked her eyes and watched him straighten. The evidence of his need protruded as he stood there and watched her for a moment. She held her breath, willing him to come back to her. To finish making her his. Yet, something in the way his hands fisted at his sides, the way he fought to regulate his breathing, told her he would not.
She lifted up on her elbows. “Lucian, what?”
He shook his head. “I need a moment.” Then he turned away, his back bowing over the struggle for control.
Already, passion flared to life inside her. Her center started to throb. “Lucian. Come here.”
“I cannot,” he gritted out.
“Why not?”
Breathing in several deep gulps, he straightened. “I told you before.” He turned, some of the wildness leaving his eyes. “Not until we are married.” He shook his head. “I should not have taken things this far.”
Emma scrambled from the bed, pulled her shirt over her naked body, and stormed to him. “You are the most exasperating man I have ever met!” She shook a finger at him. “Everyone else would like me in bed without speaking the vows. But you…” She trailed off, at a loss for words, she was so angry. “The one time.” She held up a finger. “The only time I have ever wanted to, and you dictate to me we must first be married.” Emma wanted to stomp a foot. “What about you never wanting to marry again?”
Lucian crossed his arms. “I never thought I could trust anyone. Not until I met you.”
That gave her pause. She hadn’t expected those words. Her anger receded a bit. “You trust me?”
“Yes.
”
He blew out a sigh and ploughed a hand though his hair. “Emma, one good thing about you not being exposed to society is all the subterfuge and manipulation.” He slid her a glance. “Count yourself lucky, minx, you did not grow up in a world where marriage is based on combining family fortunes or exalting status.”
Emma shook her head. “But Evie and Jeremy love each other. That is obvious to anyone.”
“And not typical of the ton.” He chuckled. “Not at all.”
Taking a step closer, she settled a hand on his arm, trying to make him understand. “Treasure hunters make terrible spouses, Lucian. You would grow tired of all the travel, the long hours of me pouring over clues and maps, and the constant worry over my safety.” Her mother’s face, drawn, worried, red with tears, came to mind. “You would come to regret asking me.”
His warm hand settled over hers, bringing her out of the past. “What if our union produced a child?”
Clearing her throat, she decided to speak plain. “Sean told me about preventative measures.”
Lucian’s brows shot up. “Your brother speaks of this with you?”
She bit back a smile and shook her head. “Not willingly. I can be a nag. He tells me such things to shut me up.”
“Understandable,” he mumbled, then drew in a breath. “Emma, those things are not completely effective. There is still a risk.”
“I am willing to take the risk.”
He gave her a pointed look. “I am not.”
“So, let me understand. The only lady you ever bedded was your wife?”
He backed up a step, surprised by her question. Then he shook his head. “I never said that.”
Emma crossed her arms. “Then I do not understand.”
Discomfort tore across his face. He cleared his throat. “On a few occasions, I have visited a, uh, mistress.”
She threw an arm out. “You see? You do not have to be wed.”
“That is not at all the same.” He stormed back to her and placed his hands on her arms. “You, minx, cannot settle for that.”
She blanched at his words but did not deny them. Indeed, she would not. Emma knew she should be flattered he did not wish to use her like most men would, then discard her when he finished with her. But she also knew he was not from the hunting world and would come to regret, sorely regret, ever asking for her hand. She chewed on her lip, not knowing what to do.
Then something came to her. Jonah had not been a hunter, either. He had come to love the life, embraced it with his whole heart. Perhaps, Lucian could, too. She did catch glimpses of his exuberance from time to time.
But Jonah had died on the hunt. Like many others had. Hunting was dangerous, lethal. She knew of times men waited for a hunter to return, then rob them of all their hard work. Often of their lives, too. That was the reason her family tried to keep their finds a secret. Well, she and Sean, anyway.
“Come, minx,” Lucian said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Get you dressed. I will try and get the footman away from the door to allow you to sneak back into your room.” He leveled her a look. “You are not going back the way you came.”
As she opened her mouth, a knock sounded at the door. Then the thing flew open. Startled, Emma watched Jeremy and Evie rush inside, holding pistols. After a quick glance around, they lowered their weapons.
“The footman heard voices.” Jeremy’s eyes swept from Emma to Lucian, one brow lifting in question.
As Emma fought to keep herself covered in the scant shirt, Lucian crossed his arms. “Sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Jeremy.”
The man gave a slow, wolfish grin. “You disturbed me, old man, but not my sleep.” Then his grin widened. “Looks like we’re even.”
Evie marched forward, brows drawn. “Lucian, you realize you have compromised the lady’s reputation.”
Emma’s breath caught. “No, no. Nothing happened.” Her cheeks singed. “Well, that is to say, it didn’t go that far.”
Lucian crossed his arms, his eyes glistening in the moonlight streaming through the window. “I have asked Emma to marry me.”
Evie’s face lit in delight. “Wonderful! When is the wedding?” She chuckled. “Soon I hope.”
“I declined,” Emma said.
But Jeremy was already shaking Lucian’s hand and offering congratulations.
“I have an idea,” Evie said, turning to her husband. “With a special license, they can marry right away.”
Emma’s heart slammed hard in her chest. She found it hard to breathe.
“We need the Archbishop of Canterbury for that,” Lucian pointed out.
“Marriage by banns will take three Sundays and you must marry in one of your home parish’s,” Evie said.
“The home parish is also required by common license,” Jeremy added.
Evie nodded. “With the special license, you can marry anywhere, at any time.”
“We still need the archbishop’s approval,” Lucian said. “And he rarely gives it.”
“Canterbury is very far away,” Emma croaked. “And I have already said no.”
“I happen to know the archbishop is in Bath at the moment.” Jeremy flashed a smile. “And he owes me a favor.”
Emma took a step on wooden legs, shaking her head. “I have declined Lucian’s offer.” Why would no one listen to her?
“Bath is close to Bristol. About a dozen miles,” Jeremy said. “Will keep you but a day, two at the most, from your destination.”
Emma drew in a sharp breath. They thought she declined due to her haste in getting to her brother. She opened her mouth to correct the assumption when Jeremy continued.
“Heading toward Bath will also work to your advantage.”
Evie nodded, placing a hand on her husband’s arm. “Whitehall and his men will not anticipate them taking another direction.”
Emma closed her eyes a moment. She would make them understand.
“Well, now that that’s settled, Evie and I wish you both a good evening.” Jeremy turned and led his wife from the room.
Staring at the closed door, Emma tried to process what happened. She jumped when she felt Lucian’s hand on her shoulder. Then fury tore a blazing path through her middle. “If you think I will speak the vows, you are mistaken,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her anger at bay.
Lucian turned her to face him. He placed his hands on either cheek. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, his face silvery-blue as he assessed her a moment. “Help me to understand, Emma. We are well suited.” His thumb wiped across her lips, sending tingles to her core. “I will be a good, faithful husband to you.” He drew his brows. “I will not disallow you from seeking treasure, if that is what concerns you.”
A tremor shot through her. How tempting to say yes. But she could not. Lucian would grow weary of her, and she would place him and any children they had in danger. She swallowed hard, the memory of the night her mother died flashing before her eyes. The man coming through the doorway. The glint of the knife in the lamplight. Her mother screaming for Emma to get away. Scrambling from a window. Running. Running. Running as fast as her seven-year-old feet would allow.
“Is that it, Emma? Is that what concerns you?”
“That’s not all,” she whispered. “I will have no children, Lucian. Ever. I cannot put a child in danger.” She drew in a breath. “And you require an heir.”
He did not speak a moment, just stared at her, then nodded. “I am beginning to understand.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “I knew you would.”
“You doubt I could protect a child,” he said, his voice flat. His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Emma, I can afford to hire the whole bloody country to protect any child that comes along. Do you not see? I am not a poor man.”
Emma opened her mouth to make another argument, but Lucian brought his lips down on hers. Soon, she was lost in his kiss. Lost in her desire.
Just lost.
Tomorrow, she would try once again to diss
uade Lucian from marrying her. As he wrapped his arms around her and drew her to his warm chest, Emma could not help but feel safe. Could Lucian be right? Could he protect their children?
She shivered, knowing a huge crack had formed in her argument. But could she give in? Should she?
In an instant, the answer came.
Chapter 14
Lucian reached for Emma, but his hand met with cold sheets. His eyes flew open and he glanced around. Pale gray morning light streamed in from the disheveled bed curtains, looking as though someone had sneaked away.
He hadn’t allowed her to return to her room the previous night. Instead, he wrapped her in his arms and held her until they both fell asleep. He meant what he said. He would keep her safe.
Tossing aside the bedding, Lucian dressed. Where in the hell were his boots? He stormed around until he found them beside a wingback chair, then flew from the room.
Pausing at Emma’s door, he noticed the footman gone and hissed out a sigh. After rapping on the wood, he walked in and his heart sank. Empty.
Lucian spun on his heel and marched down the stairs, stifling a string of curses along the way. A maid walked by and he stopped her. “Where is Lord Fielding?”
Her round blue eyes widened. She pointed a finger down the hall. “Th-The breakfast r-room, my lord.”
With a clipped nod, he moved down the hall and threw open the door, then stopped short.
Jeremy’s brows rose and he lowered his cup. “Something wrong, old man?”
Evie’s hand stilled from slathering apricot jam on her toast.
But it was the third person at the table who captured Lucian’s attention. He watched her lower her fork. “Lucian? Has something happened?” Emma asked.
As his heart settled back into place, he shook his head. “No, I, ah…” He cleared his throat and walked into the room. “I am hungry,” he said and turned to the waiting footman. “Coffee.” Then he came to Emma and dropped a kiss on top of her head.
She glanced up, a smile lurking in her eyes. “I made a promise, remember?”
Speechless, he could only nod. Rebecca’s promises had meant nothing. Turning to the sideboard, he filled his plate with ham and eggs, toast and tomato slices. Then he sat beside Emma and dug in to his food.
Lord Hunter (Secrets & Scandals Book 6) Page 12