Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors

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Seven Nights of Sin: Seven Sensuous Stories by Bestselling Historical Romance Authors Page 14

by Victoria Vane


  Suddenly aware the head of his staff nudged her entrance, her breath stilled, and she tensed. He entered her slowly. She balled her fists against his chest in an effort to deal with the discomfort of him filling her. This tearing pain was not part of her dream.

  “It will ease in a moment.” He withdrew, and when he slowly edged back inside, her body settled around him. At his gentle thrusts, the stinging pain subsided.

  “Better?”

  “Yes,” she said carefully.

  Meeting her gaze, he raised her thighs, withdrew, and thrust forward, burying himself inside her.

  The burn became a yearning sense of completion. She almost sobbed at the engulfing emotion and arched her back to better accept him. At this moment, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world.

  Matching his rhythm, she raised herself to meet his driving hips, the bed rocking. Molten pleasure warmed her from head to foot.

  With a groan, he stilled.

  They lay together, panting, his face against her neck. Then he withdrew, and cool air surrounded her when he rolled away to remove the condom. He returned with a handkerchief and wiped the blood from her thighs.

  He settled her head against his shoulder, his arm around her. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  Dazed in the euphoric aftermath, she nodded. Cradled in his warmth, she toyed with the soft tuffs of dark hair on his chest as she listened to his heart beat slow. “Did you enjoy it too?”

  “Very much.”

  He drew the quilt over them. “Sleep now, my love. We have the whole night.”

  Safe in his embrace, she closed her eyes. Was she his love? She wanted so much to be. She was in love with him. No man could ever mean as much to her again. He’d made it plain he couldn’t marry her. She supposed he wasn’t the marrying kind. She was determined to be brave, to walk away and never ask him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DERRICK WATCHED Bella’s lovely face as she slept. He had come to care for her. Should he marry, she was everything he wanted. He didn’t just desire her; he respected her, her compassionate nature, her passion for life. And she was brave. The way she cared for others less fortunate than herself had unlocked a cold place in his chest. The thought of letting her go sent a pain to the region of his heart. But let her go he must. When Hector failed to run him down in the middle of Town, his cousin had promised to succeed the next time. A friend who’d watched Horace’s carriage sideswiping a wagon and careening away down the street, urged Derrick to report him. That would mean Horace thrown into an insane asylum and Derrick would never subject the poor fellow to that, but he knew, should he plan to marry, the lady’s life would be in danger too. He was in no doubt that Hector’s wild threats were real, although his attempts were usually ill-judged, as if he wanted to die himself. You couldn’t reason with a madman. And madmen, even aristocratic ones, were treated cruelly. It was not something Derrick wanted on his conscience. While he watched his back, he kept praying for a miracle, that some medical breakthrough would help his cousin. He’d been reading about Josef Breuer in Vienna, who was making startling discoveries in the study of the brain, a new discipline and an exciting one. Derrick wanted to take Hector to consult a doctor, but so far, even in his saner moments, his cousin had resisted.

  Derrick wanted to explain this to Bella, to make her understand why marriage was impossible, but his thoughts evaporated when she opened her blue eyes, and her lips, swollen with his kisses, lifted in a welcoming smile.

  “What time is it?” She stretched her lovely limbs, causing him to catch his breath.

  He caressed the satiny skin of her thigh as his body stirred with want.

  “Three o’clock.”

  “Oh, good, we have hours.”

  He cocked a brow. “To do what?”

  Her lips parted in a smile and she reached up to stroke his chest. “I want to do it all again.”

  “You’ll be sore,” he warned, temptation weakening his resolve. “A nice hot bath is in order.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’ll wake the servants.”

  “We’ll manage.” He left the bed and held out his hand to her. “I had a bathroom installed with hot water earlier this year.”

  “How divine.” She threw back the quilt, unconscious of the effect her voluptuous beauty had on him.

  Derrick draped his dressing gown around her shoulders. It was far too long; she had to gather up the folds to walk from the room.

  A mammoth, noisy geyser had been installed in his bathroom, which banged loudly enough to wake the dead as it spouted water into the large porcelain bath.

  When it was half full, Bella slipped off the robe and stepped into the water, sitting her bottom down with an appreciative sigh. With a grin, Derrick joined her.

  “Mmm.” She settled between his legs and rested her back against his chest.

  Derrick lathered the soap in his hands and slid soapy fingers over her full breasts and the soft rise of her stomach. She leaned her head back against his shoulder with a deep sigh. Forming circles, he drifted lower, gently stroking the plump, swollen folds amid the silken curls between her legs. When she opened her thighs for him, he pressed two fingers inside. She made an appreciative noise in her throat.

  “Turn around, Bella.”

  Bella turned and settled her thighs on each side of his. She circled his hard length with her hands. “Show me how to pleasure you.”

  He placed his hand over hers, guiding her. She had good hands. Too good. His breathing became ragged, his cock growing harder. He held one hand at her nape and pulled her closer, moving his mouth over hers, devouring its softness.

  He dragged his mouth from hers. “Shall we try? I’ll stop if I hurt you.”

  After her nod, he grasped her pert bottom and raised her hips. She guided him inside her tight passage and slowly pressed down on him. Her eyes widened, and she bit her luscious bottom lip. As her body drew him in, he fought to keep control as his emotions rampaged within him. His heart seemed to swell in his chest at the intensity of his feelings for her.

  He watched the play of emotions on her beautiful face, how her eyes grew unfocused and her tongue swept over her lips. “Good, my love?”

  With a breathy acknowledgement, she rose gently up and down. Her breasts jiggled, and he cupped them, thumbing the nipples into rigid peaks. Her nails pricked his shoulders, and she threw back her head, moaning as his fingers sought the source of her pleasure. She was lost in another orgasm, her body tightening around his cock. His heart racing, breath rasping, Derrick lost control and, with a cry, grabbed her hips and drove into her, water splashing over the sides of the bath onto the floor. He eased her off him and spilled his seed over her stomach.

  Bella fell against his chest with a sighing moan.

  He climbed out of the bath and turned to help her. She held on to his arms. “I feel so languid. My legs are weak.”

  He rubbed her briskly with a large fluffy towel until her skin glowed. “Hungry?”

  “A little.”

  Draping the dressing gown around her, he swept her up and returned to the bedroom. “I’ll go down to the kitchen and see what I can find in the pantry. There’s bound to be some bread, ham, and cheese.”

  “Oh. Lovely.” Bella yawned and snuggled down in the bed.

  When Derrick returned with the tray, he found her fast asleep. He sat in a chair and ate his repast, watching her. He wanted to have her in his bed always. A foolish dream.

  ***

  “Bella?”

  “Mm?” She felt his breath on her cheek, faintly tinged with brandy, and opened her eyes. He was smiling. He’d brought her some milk.

  “Milk?”

  “I can’t make tea or coffee.”

  “I don’t imagine you can,” she said with a giggle. She trailed a finger over his jaw where a roughened beard had sprung up. “Does your valet shave you?”

  “I prefer to shave myself.”

  He drew her close and buried his face in her hai
r. “It’s close to dawn. The servants will be up in an hour. I think we should go soon.”

  “Oh. Yes.” She didn’t want to leave him. The night hadn’t been nearly long enough. Impossible to accept that they’d never be together like this again.

  “I’ll write to Maudling when I return home.”

  “There’s no need for him to know it was you.” She continued her exploration of his face, tracing his blade of a nose and smoothing his hair back off his forehead.

  He caught her hand and kissed it. “He’ll take little notice otherwise.”

  She frowned, knowing she sounded irrational, but she no longer wanted him involved. “Maudling will come after you. I can’t allow that.”

  “What can he do to me? Spread gossip?” He gave a grim smile. “I have a plan to deal with Maudling should he become difficult.”

  “What plan?” Bella asked as mixed feelings rushed through her.

  He pressed a light kiss to her lips. “Nothing that includes violence. Strictly business.”

  Derrick was so much cleverer than Maudling. He could employ his shrewd business acumen as a means to threaten the lord. But she remained uneasy as she left the bed and began to dress.

  “Let me tell Maudling,” she said.

  “And place yourself at the mercy of that devil? He’s shown you scant respect; he might decide to sample what he believes he was promised.”

  She drew in a nervous breath, her mind racing as Derrick tied her corset laces and buttoned her dress. Once dressed, she attempted to put up her hair with the pins he’d gathered from the library carpet.

  He kissed her neck, his tawny eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “Ready?”

  She nodded and bit her lip, afraid she’d cry. She stood at the door with one final glance at the bedroom where she’d experienced so much happiness. She would never see it again.

  They walked downstairs as sounds came from the lane, where the early-morning deliveries had begun.

  “We’ll have to walk round to the stables. I’ll rouse a groom.”

  “I can go home in a cab,” Bella said.

  His arm came around her in a charming protective gesture. “You will not. I shall see you to your door.”

  At the stables, Bella pulled her hood down low over her face as a yawning groom came to hitch the horses to a curricle. “I often drive through the park in the early morning,” Derrick said as he assisted her into it.

  “Don’t you sleep well?”

  He took up the reins and urged the horses to walk on. “Not always.”

  She glanced at the man she’d come to love. He was a complex soul. She would worry about him until his part in this business was over. There would be no peace for her for some considerable time. Her father’s disappointment when she failed to marry Maudling would make life unbearable at home. She gazed at Derrick’s handsome profile. Perhaps she’d read about his nuptials in the newspaper one day. A shaft of jealousy tightened her ribcage and almost made her lose her breath. Annoyed with herself, she watched the houses pass by in the greyed light as he guided the horses onto the Ring Road in Hyde Park. Surprised, she turned to him. It was a roundabout route. Did he, like she, wish to delay their parting?

  Mist curled through the trees, the air moist on Bella’s skin. She pulled her cloak closer.

  “Cold?”

  “No.” She just dreaded the coming days, weeks, and months ahead. They would never be together like this again.

  He turned to study her as if he sensed her lowering spirits. “I wish things could be different, sweetheart. I have a responsibility to—”

  “Halt!” The cry came from a masked man. He’d stepped out from behind a tree ahead of them, a pistol in his hand, aimed directly at them.

  Bella grasped Derrick’s arm. “A robber?” She couldn’t believe such a thing would happen in this part of town.

  Derrick’s hard hand on her shoulder pushed her down. “Stay there.” As he bent to remove a gun from the leather-covered box under the seat, a bullet whizzed over their heads, striking the hood.

  Her heart galloping, Bella crouched as Derrick fought to pull up the panicking horses. They sidled and reared, dragging the curricle closer to where the robber stood.

  She clutched the edge of the seat, listening to Derrick implore the robber to put his gun down.

  “I’ve a bullet for you too, madam,” the man yelled, ignoring him. She watched in horror as he strode forward, closing the ground between them, his pistol pointed straight at Derrick.

  As another shot bit into the side of the curricle, frighteningly close to her. Derrick cursed. Bringing the horses under control, he held the reins in one hand and aimed his pistol at the man who reloaded only a few yards away. “For God’s sake! Stop right there! Drop the gun or I’ll shoot.”

  A white handkerchief hid the lower part of the tall, dark-haired man’s face. He was close enough for her to see his eyes burned with an inner fire. At this range, his next shot could hardly miss. She shuddered at his hoarse curses and watched helplessly as he took aim again, this time at her.

  Derrick fired just as the frightened horses reared and the curricle lurched sideways. His shot was deadly accurate. The robber fell to the ground, his pistol flying away over the road.

  Bella covered her face with her hands. “Dear heaven!”

  “Stay here.” As if sensing the danger had passed, the horses quieted. Derrick tied off the reins. He leapt down and ran to fall to his knees beside the still body.

  Bella couldn’t stay in the curricle. She had to see this madman for herself. She stood beside Derrick as he removed the man’s disguise. He was young and well dressed, not what she imagined a robber to be like. A red stain spread over his chest. Derrick groaned.

  “He’s dead?” Bella’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  “Yes. I just wanted to wing him. If the carriage hadn’t moved…. Dammit it. Hector, you fool,” he muttered hoarsely.

  She put her hand on Derrick’s shoulder, feeling him shudder, yearning to comfort him. “You know this man? Who is he?”

  “My cousin, Hector.” His voice was gruff with grief as he covered the man’s face with a handkerchief. “He wasn’t in his right mind. I’ve been trying to help him. And now I’ve failed him.”

  “You couldn’t do anything else,” Bella reasoned. “He would have killed you. And me.”

  “Yes. He would have shot you too.” He looked up at her, his eyes dark with pain. “I couldn’t take that chance.” He sighed heavily. “I’ll take you home.”

  Her teeth chattered. He took her arm. “You’re shocked. I wish I could take you back home, give you some brandy, but I have to deal with this.”

  Her distress was more for him than herself. She wished there was something she could say to comfort him, but there was nothing.

  Derrick drove to Eaton Square in silence. Stopping outside her house, he helped her down. He raised her chin to study her. “Will you be all right? I must go back.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll slip in through the servants’ entrance. If I meet a servant, I’ll say I’ve been for an early walk.”

  “Try and forget this distressing business, Bella. I’ll deal with Lord Maudling.”

  Bella watched him drive away. She felt rooted to the spot. She had to get her knees working. It was growing lighter as the day dawned. Her knees had begun to tremble, and a sob lodged in her throat as she hurried down the path. They had both come so close to death. She walked through the kitchen door and climbed the servants’ stairs. She was halfway up the main staircase when a shape appeared in the gloom above her.

  “Is that you, Bella?”

  Her grandmother waited on the landing.

  “Yes, it’s me, Gran,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve been for a walk. I’ll see you at breakfast.” As she hurried past, Gran grabbed her arm.

  “Come to my bedroom, young lady.”

  Clamping her lips to stop from crying, Bella obeyed.

  In her bedr
oom, Gran motioned to a chair. “Sit.”

  She sniffed, weak with shame and distress, and sank into an armchair.

  In her dressing gown, Gran put her hands on her hips. She suddenly appeared taller than her five feet two and a good deal stronger than Bella had given her credit for in the past. Any notion of crying deserted her.

  “Now. Would you care to tell me where you spent last night?”

  “I’m sorry, Gran. I didn’t want to involve you. I thought you’d be asleep.”

  “Old people don’t sleep so well. I got up during the night and went to check on you. Can you imagine how distressed I was when I discovered your empty bed?”

  “Yes. It must have been dreadful. I’d best tell you the whole story.”

  Gran folded her arms. “I believe that would be wise.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DERRICK LOCATED A POLICEMAN on his beat, and they returned to the park. He related the sequence of events as more of the Watch appeared and waited for the coroner to arrive to inspect the body. Some hours later, Hector’s body was driven away to the morgue in the wagon. There’d be an inquest, but Derrick believed it would be a straightforward matter.

  Arriving home, heartsick, he sat behind his desk in the library to write to Hector’s sister, Elizabeth, in France. Fortunately, both parents had passed away some time ago. Even though Derrick had reviled his Uncle Frederick, he wouldn’t wish this on anyone. He slumped and scrubbed his hands over his face. After his uncle’s bad dealings, Derrick had trusted no one. He’d allow society to believe the worst of him, to judge him harshly, even welcomed it. He’d carried on as other Eaglestones before him. After he’d rebuilt his estate, Eaglestone Park, he’d ridden over his lands, jumping his horse over gates and hedges, not caring if he broke his neck. He imbibed too freely and enjoyed the company of tavern wenches, sassy London courtesans, and willing widows while reveling in his rakish reputation. The more gossip spread about him, the more he liked it.

  He and Hector were friends as well as cousins, united in their hated of Hector’s father, Frederick. Hector lived as carelessly as Derrick, joining him in their reckless pursuits. Until the madness claimed him. Then he’d decided he should be the heir and turned on Derrick, threatening to kill him. Convincing himself he needed no one, Derrick continued to lead his hollow life, long after it palled, consumed by a need to be financially powerful and snub his nose at anyone who judged him harshly.

 

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