Seducing Eden

by Allison Lane

  Before she knew what was happening, his wicked tongue and teeth restored desire. Clutching fistfuls of his shirt, she arched into his mouth until her entire breast was engulfed. Aches appeared in places she’d never noticed. She writhed, blindly seeking his shaft, knowing that it could ease the exquisite agony.

  “Not tonight,” he murmured, pinning her on her back. “I promised not to enter you. But I want you to sleep very soundly. Ensuring that takes time.” His hand teased the inside of one thigh, then untied her garter. “Such gloriously long legs,” he purred, pausing to examine them. “How I wish I could feel them around my hips.”

  The words invoked images of flexing to pull him deeper as he plunged inside. She whimpered.

  “But for today, we’ll finish undressing…”

  He pulled the garter away and slowly rolled her stocking down, lavishing kisses on the exposed skin, all the while extolling her legs. Propped on her elbows, she watched as he removed the second garter and skimmed his mouth along her flesh. The sight was more erotic than she’d dreamed possible.

  When he had her quivering with need, he sat up, examining her from head to foot. “Flushed and beautiful,” he panted. “Now the real fun begins.” As one hand teased her nipples, he settled between her legs, parted her curls with his fingers, then blew softly.

  She writhed, unable to think.

  “So responsive.” He brushed a thumb across her. “So gloriously eager.” His breath beat hot against her skin.

  “Don’t tease,” she gasped. “Touch me. More.”

  A finger slipped inside. The question of whether this violated their agreement vanished on a new wave of pleasure. As he added a second one, she surged against him, seeking a rhythm her body seemed to know, though she’d never experienced it. Her eyes closed. Excitement built higher and higher. But no matter how she strained, she couldn’t quite manage the last step.

  “Look at me.” His lips brushed her thigh. “See how much I enjoy watching you. Feel my fingers slide in and out. Slick. So very slick. I get hard just thinking about it. Imagine how it would feel if I could enter you. I shake at the thought, and you do, too.”

  She raised her head. He wasn’t exaggerating. Fire burned in his eyes as he stared at his hand. Tremors rippled along his skin. His tongue mimicked his fingers, in and out, glistening with moisture.

  She contracted, squeezing tighter, fighting for more.

  He groaned. “You could wake the dead, Eden.”

  “Harder,” she gasped. “Can’t quite make—”

  “You will.” He raised his eyes to hers, deliberately licked his lips, then set his mouth to her throbbing core.

  Incredibly, he drove her higher yet. She sobbed, begged, shouted her need until she shook so hard she thought she’d fall apart. She wanted him to touch her forever, to hold her on this quivering peak until eternity, yet she needed an end, needed to fly apart so she could be made anew…

  “That’s right, Eden,” he gasped. “Come to me, sweetheart.”

  But still she wavered, teetering between madness and annihilation. Not until his teeth scraped across her most sensitive spot did she explode into a million shards and fall, screaming, into blackness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex groggily opened his eyes to find Eden shaking his shoulders. Her shattering climax had sent him into a second one of his own, leaving him so drained that when he’d finally staggered back to his chair he must have fallen asleep.

  “Wake up,” she demanded, shaking him harder. “The inn is on fire.”

  “Wha—” A cough cut off the question. Smoke boiled under the door, shocking him into immobility. He was a light sleeper who had never been caught unaware, especially when he was on guard. How had he failed to—

  “Get up, Alex.” She slapped his face. “Fasten my gown so I can fetch Carver. She falls apart in a crisis.”

  The slap broke his paralysis. He quickly did up her ties, grateful that she’d left off her stays. Time was pressing. Already their escape might be cut off. “You go outside. I’ll see after Carver.”

  “There isn’t time. You have to find Tweed. The male servants sleep in the other wing. Hurry!” With that she was gone.

  Cursing, Alex jumped into his boots, tossed their valises out the window, then peered around the door. Flames roared up the kitchen stairs across the hall. No one would escape that way. But the rest of the inn seemed clear. He raced to the right, banging on doors and shouting, “Fire! Everyone out! Hurry!” Eden’s voice echoed from upstairs, doing the same thing.

  Voices swelled behind him. Doors slammed. He ran after Eden, terrified that she might become trapped. The attic was the most dangerous place to be, for the smoke would be thicker.

  Tweed was already in the hallway herding groggy servants ahead of him. “The men’s rooms are clear,” he reported, choking.

  “Good. Get them out,” urged Alex. “I’ll check the maids.” Glass shattered downstairs, sending up new clouds of smoke. Horses screamed from the stable.

  “Umph!” He’d run into someone in the gloom.

  “Alex?” Eden.

  “You have to get out. This place is going up fast.”

  “I can’t leave her. She’s unconscious.”

  Only then did he realize she was dragging a woman. Not Carver.

  “I’ve got her,” said Alex, tossing the woman over his shoulder. “Is there anyone else?”

  “Not here. I sent Carver out with the others.” She bent over, coughing deeply.

  “Good.” He grabbed her hand. “Move!”

  The heat intensified as they stumbled downward and skidded to a stop on the first floor. The brief delay to pick up the maid prevented their escape. Flames had reached this staircase, too.

  “In here,” he ordered, dragging Eden into a hastily vacated bedroom. He slammed the door behind him, then laid the woman on the floor.

  “What now?” gasped Eden.

  “We jump.” He threw open the sash, sighing in relief. The window below this room was intact, though flames already spurted from others.

  Eden gulped clean air, then nodded. “I’ll go first. Hand her down to me.”

  “Right.” Shouts joined the screaming horses in the stable yard, but no one was on this side of the building. Grabbing Eden’s wrists, he lifted her out, lowering her as far as possible.

  “Now,” she ordered.

  He let go, watching her drop the last six feet.

  “I’m fine,” she called up. “Pass me the maid.”

  Eden could barely reach the woman’s feet, but Alex had no choice but to drop her. Already flames crackled behind him. His lungs burned worse with each breath.

  “Brace yourself,” he called.

  “Ready.”

  He let go. Eden collapsed under the woman’s weight.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “Pull her aside. I don’t want to land on you.”

  An interminable minute passed before he could jump. Pain shot through his ankle on landing, but it didn’t break.

  “Come on.” He picked up the maid. “Get away from the wall.”

  “What—” She coughed. “What started the fire?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like the timing.” He cursed himself for falling asleep.

  “Then it’s my fault.”

  “Never!” He shifted the maid so he could see around her to Eden’s face. “This is not the time to assign blame. They’ll need my help with the fire. I want you to stay close so I can keep you safe. Can you do that?”

  Eden nodded.

  They rounded the corner into a scene of chaos. People milled about the stable yard, sobbing and in shock. Others huddled in the corner, nursing burns. But beneath the apparent confusion was order.

  Fire had taken a firm hold on the inn, but its slate roof kept most of the sparks contained. The stable’s thatching was soaked enough from the rain to extinguish those that landed. Men and women were already passing water from the stream
to the blaze. Grooms led horses to a smoke-free pasture. Villagers rushed to help, carrying buckets and rugs.

  Alex joined the water line, passing full buckets one way and empties the other. Eden also pitched in.

  She’d surprised him several times tonight, first by saving his life – if she hadn’t awakened him, he would have died – then by rousing others before taking herself to safety. Few of the ladies he knew would have done so. Nor would they have continued fighting the fire. A country inn mattered only to its village – or so most of society would agree; too many would pack up their carriages and leave, complaining bitterly about the inconvenience. Yet Eden fought as if the place were her own. She’d handled crises without turning a hair since the day he’d met her.

  And he appreciated it. If she’d collapsed in hysterics like the women currently wailing in the stable, he would have been furious. When he had time to seek a bride, he must make sure she could keep a level head in times of trouble. He had no patience with whiners.

  It would be a difficult trait to assess, though, he admitted through growing fatigue. Without an actual crisis to act as a test, how would he know?

  * * * *

  Eden was exhausted by the time the last ember died. For hours she’d stood shoulder to shoulder with Alex, passing buckets up and down. Now that it was over, her arms shook, and she could barely stand.

  “Easy,” urged Alex, catching her when she stumbled.

  “What now?”

  “Sit here while I find out if the horses are all right and send Tweed to see if our luggage survived – I pitched it out the window. Sit.” He pressed her down on a barrel and disappeared.

  She needed to pull herself together, but her mind remained stuck in the horror of choking awake to find herself in the midst of a fire. Alex had been slumped over, unresponsive to her loudest shouts. Not until she’d shaken him several times had he opened his eyes. Terror still pumped through her veins. She couldn’t live with herself if she led him to his death.

  “Everything is fine,” Alex reported, startling her out of the memory. “The carriages are intact, as are yesterday’s horses. Tweed has our luggage and has even calmed Carver. Let’s go. There is nothing more we can do here. We’ll stop for breakfast in a couple of hours.” He glanced eastward, where dawn prodded the horizon.

  “Excellent plan,” she managed, rising. A glance at the inn made her grimace. Wisps of smoke still curled lazily upward. A few men poked through the ruins, though most had collapsed in exhaustion. Even the injured and hysterical had finally fallen silent. “Do they know how it started?”

  “It was deliberate.”

  She gulped.

  “But not your fault,” he repeated. “Someone soaked sheets in lamp oil, then spread them around the perimeter of the kitchen, dropping the last one on the banked fire. A servant spotted the flames immediately, but it was already too late. The place went up like kindling.” He steered her across the yard to his waiting carriage.

  “He must be mad.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  She frowned. “But even if it was started by the man following us, why burn down an inn? He could have attacked tomorrow on an isolated bit of road.”

  “We don’t know that it’s the same man, and if it is”—he added as she tried to interrupt—“he’s not particularly competent. Everyone survived.” He drew a deep breath. “But we must be alert today. I want to catch him before he does more mischief.”

  “Mischief?” she quoted bitterly. “Peterson dead, a dozen people injured, an inn in ruins…”

  “He’ll pay.” He held out a hand to guide her up the steps.

  She couldn’t raise her foot.

  Shocked, she tried again. Without success.

  “You’re exhausted,” said Alex, lifting her inside. “I’m not surprised.”

  “I know, but—” Her body convulsed. What was wrong with her?

  “Reaction.” Alex pulled her into his lap. “Relax, Eden. Accept it. It’s perfectly normal after a crisis.” He pulled out a flask. “Drink. It will settle the nausea that should hit you next.”

  It already had. Horrified at losing control of her body in yet another way, she meekly swallowed the brandy. It burned all the way down, but he was right. It eased the cramps that were suddenly twisting her stomach into knots. And it lightened the heaviness that had been pressing on her head.

  She handed back the flask, gratified when Alex also took a long swallow.

  “Why aren’t you shaking?” She had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.

  “I’m used to sudden action.” He made her drink again, longer this time. As the carriage lurched into motion, he pulled her closer. “Try to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake.”

  His warmth felt good, reviving memories of last night that drove thoughts of the fire into hiding. Grateful, she closed her eyes. Though thinking about something that could ruin her was a bad idea, if it could ease these tremors…

  Yet relaxation wouldn’t come. Terror returned to banish the good memories, sending images rampaging through her head – Alex sprawled in a chair as if dead, Alex appearing out of a billow of smoke, Alex framed by flames as he waited to jump, delayed because she was so slow in tugging the woman aside. If anything happened to him…

  Her shaking increased. Tears stung her eyes. He’d come so close to injury, or even death…

  “Steady,” Alex murmured, stroking her arm. “It’s over, Eden. You’ve had a rough fortnight, but you’re safe.”

  “I-I know. It’s j-just—” A sob escaped.

  He tucked her head against his neck. “Go ahead and cry. It will help.”

  She no longer had a choice. Flinging her arms around his neck, she let the tears flow. His scent wrapped around her, promising safety. His hand stroked soothingly up and down her spine. Murmurs whispered through her ears. If they were words, she couldn’t understand them, but they eased her fears. Gradually her sobs lessened.

  Yet instead of exhausting her as tears usually did, these revived her. Tremors wracked her body, brought on by a burst of lust even fiercer than last night. Her wantonness grew stronger with each passing hour, taking over mind and body, relegating twenty-eight years of manners and training to the dustbin. It was alarming how needy he could make her with but a touch. She was becoming addicted to the passion he aroused.

  And he was just as needy. His shaft pressed hard against her thigh, jerking with each bump of the carriage. His lips brushed her ear. Sparks skittered along her skin, hotter than the fire. She ought to move back to her corner, pretend sleep, remember that she was a lady.

  But it was too late.

  Alex might control himself well enough to cling to their agreement, but she cared only about relieving the need building inside her. Her breasts strained for his touch, reminding her with every breath that she wore no corset, that nothing covered her but a thin piece of fabric, for she’d not even replaced her shift. Squirming rasped her nipples against it, but it wasn’t enough. When he moved to set her aside, she grabbed his arm and pressed his hand to her breast.

  “Please, Alex,” she panted, no longer caring if he adhered to last night’s vow or took her where she sat. All that mattered was relief.

  He hesitated, then bent into the kiss she craved.

  Passion exploded with the first thrust of his tongue, driving away the last fragments of terror. It consumed her, demanding more, and more again. Tremors shook him as she fenced with him, pressing closer, twining her fingers in his hair. It was thick, soft, luxurious…

  He groaned, deepening the kiss. Ravaging. Devouring. His hunger increasing her own.

  The moment he released her bodice, she arched, pressing a breast into his palm, reveling in his talented fingers, her moans drawing answering groans from deep in his throat. She tore off the disheveled Belcher he still wore, letting his shirt fall open. His chest was covered with dark hair, springy to the touch. Beneath it his heart hammered like a wild beast, driving her own ev
en faster.

  “Eden,” he gasped, trailing fiery kisses down her neck while he shifted her to lie across his lap.

  She could no longer reach his chest, so she rubbed his leg, sliding her hand between his thighs. His shaft jerked against her hip as his mouth sucked an aching breast deep inside. Excitement built.

  “Rest your foot on the window,” he gasped, changing to her other breast.

  She complied, then parted her knees when he pushed her skirts up. Fingers tangled in her curls, teasing until she shook.

  “More,” she begged. “Faster.”

  “Fast and hard,” he agreed. “Come to me. Now!” His fingers slid inside, his thumb digging into her folds. She lifted to grind against it, then shouted her glory into his mouth as the carriage bucked across a rut. Reveling at the sparks exploding about her head, she tumbled into darkness.

  When she came to herself, Alex had refastened her gown and was settling her onto the seat beside him. “Shall I—” She reached for his buttons.

  “No. I’ll be fine. You need sleep.”

  His refusal shocked her more than her sudden wantonness. He had more control than she, it seemed. And more honor. She’d pushed him beyond all reason, teasing him until no one would blame him for taking her completely. Least of all her. If he’d done so, she would have welcomed him – which proved just how abandoned she’d become. In the throes of passion, she would have jettisoned scruples, responsibility, and pride for a chance to experience the full range of his lovemaking.

  But he hadn’t let her. He took better care of her reputation than she did.

  Shame washed over her. And guilt. She must not test his honor again. This exploration of pleasure had to end. In a few hours, they would be at Ridley. If all went well, he would recognize Olivia as his perfect bride. But only if she ceased distracting him.

  * * * *

  Alex fought his libido under control – a difficult job, for passion was the easiest way to burn off the extra energy danger always produced, as Eden had realized. But his control was too precarious to risk further touch. He wanted her to the point of pain, needed to plunge into her, again and again, releasing his seed where it might—