Starkly smiled. “I think it best if I do. Considering what Donovan has done, he’ll be lucky to escape you with his life—should you happen to find the man, that is. I’d hate to see you hanged when things between you and Lady Crossby are finally beginning to shape up.”
Lucien snorted. “I wouldn’t waste your money betting on that just yet, but if we can at least put her mind at ease by finding the man who’s after her, then I’ll be happy enough.”
Chapter 13
Roused from her sleep by the sound of a door closing, Katherine sat up, her gaze going immediately to the book still clutched in her hands. After supper, she’d returned to the upstairs salon and dozed off on the sofa while reading Emma. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost midnight. Stretching a little to alleviate her aching muscles, she prepared to rise and make her way to bed, when the door swung open.
“Forgive me,” Lucien said, his large frame blocking out the hallway beyond, “I didn’t mean to startle you, but when I saw the light beneath the door I thought it best to check if one of the oil lamps had been forgotten.”
“Quite right,” she said, still feeling sleepy.
He nodded, paused and held up a small parcel. “I brought you this,” he said, placing the item on a table next to where he stood. “It’s not much, but considering your love of gardening, I thought you might appreciate a botany book. It was on display in a shop window and . . . well, it made me think of you.”
Katherine could practically feel her heart expanding as she straightened herself. “Thank you, Lucien. I’m sure I’ll enjoy reading it very much.” She prepared to rise so she could go and examine the gift, but something about Lucien’s bearing stopped her. He seemed so distant.
“Well, I believe I’ll wish you a good night then,” he said, turning to go.
“Lucien!” His name had the desired effect, halting him in his tracks. He turned back toward her, one brow raised in question. “Did you discover anything while you were out?” she asked.
He nodded slightly, a lock of dark hair falling against his brow bone. “It appears my bait worked,” he said, sounding weary. “When I returned to Riley’s this evening, I received a message from Donovan. I’m to meet him four days from now to discuss my financial difficulties.”
Katherine’s eyes widened. “I don’t like the sound of that, Lucien. It’s much too dangerous.”
“What would you have me do, then?”
She regarded him steadily. “You could take some Bow Street Runners with you.”
Stepping further into the room, Lucien sighed. “You know as well as I do that Donovan will probably slip through our fingers if he suspects that my request for help is disingenuous. You mustn’t worry, though. I’ve spoken to Lord Starkly—”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve had anything to do with that man. He’s not to be trusted!”
Lucien just stood there, looking back at her with the most peculiar expression, until he eventually said, “Starkly is not as bad as you think. He’s actually quite determined to help you.”
Katherine scoffed at the notion. “I doubt that very much.” This whole thing was growing more absurd by the second.
“And why is that?” Lucien asked, looking remarkably interested all of a sudden.
Unpleasant memories flooded her mind, and she became lost in them.
“Katherine?” a deep voice prodded.
Blinking, Katherine looked at Lucien. “Forgive me,” she said. “I believe I was woolgathering there for a moment.” She shook her head. “Starkly doesn’t have the best reputation. Surely you know that, Lucien. He’s always looking for a new mistress, not caring one way or another about what happens to his previous one once he tosses her out. There’s nothing honorable about him.”
“Well, in this case, he’s on our side. You needn’t worry about him.”
Was Lucien seriously telling her to trust Lord Starkly? If there was one person she’d rather have nothing to do with ever again, it was him. “What reason do I have to believe he won’t double-cross us?”
“Because I’m telling you he won’t.” Lucien crossed his arms, his gaze dark with shadows cast across his brow.
Katherine swallowed hesitantly. “Is everything all right between us, Lucien? You seem irritable.”
He sighed, then shook his head. “Honestly, Kate, I’m exhausted. This whole business—worrying about your welfare and feeling as if I’m making no headway whatsoever—has put me out. The last thing I want to do right now is risk further rejection from you by pressing my advances, nor do I wish to pretend that I’ve no desire to kiss you whenever you are near. In short, I’d rather avoid you altogether for a while so I can focus on solving the puzzle that Lady Trapleigh has presented us with.”
Drawing on every bit of courage she possessed, Katherine rose to her feet and went toward him. He didn’t move but watched her warily as she approached. “I haven’t been fair to you,” she said, while doing her best to ignore the increasing pressure in her stomach. “You leapt off a cliff without knowing how far the fall would be or whether the landing would be hard or gentle. I ran like a scared little rabbit, too afraid to follow you over the edge.”
“What are you saying?” His voice was gruff and he looked tense, but he did not flinch, his eyes steady upon her.
“There’s a lot I’ve neglected to tell you. My confidence, not only in others but in myself, has been severely shaken during your absence. I . . .” She took a deep breath. This was it, the moment of truth. “I fear you won’t want me once . . . once . . .” Oh God, she couldn’t say it. Not to him at least; no matter how much she wanted to share her pain with him, she just couldn’t seem to bring herself to cross that line.
“Once what?” he pressed.
Closing her eyes, she became acutely aware of her heart hammering furiously against her chest. She was nervous and she was afraid. Calm yourself, she chided. This was Lucien. He would never hurt her. Not willingly at least, a faint voice taunted. Biting down on her lower lip, she took courage. Without allowing herself the chance to argue the point, she blurted, “Once you see me in a state of undress.” There. She’d said it, however mortifying her confession might be.
There was a beat. The clock on the mantel ticked away loudly. Katherine cringed, wishing she could take back the words she’d just spoken. She felt like a fool standing there, her eyes squeezed shut while heat rushed to her cheeks. But then she felt Lucien’s arms creep about her waist, the hard planes of his chest as he pressed her against him, holding her as if he feared he might lose her. The scent of him—rich sandalwood clinging to the wool of his jacket—wafted over her, comforting her with its familiarity.
She’d no idea how long they stood there. It seemed like forever, and when he finally made to pull away, she was reluctant to let him go, needing him now more than she’d ever needed anyone before in her life. Leaving her by the door, he crossed the floor to a table where an oil lamp glowed. Picking it up, he returned to Katherine and held his hand toward her, saying only one word. “Come.”
Skeptical of his intentions, she placed her hand in his with great hesitation and allowed him to lead her through the hallway and across the landing to her bedroom. Opening the door for her, he told her to step inside. Her skin prickled sharply when she realized he had followed. She’d known he would, yet the fact that he had was sending her mind reeling. A click sounded—the lock to her bedroom door sliding shut.
“What are you doing?” The words tumbled from her mouth on a surge of panic.
“I think you know, Kate,” he told her, setting the oil lamp on her dresser. “There have been too many lies between us. It’s time for honesty now and for you to be loved the way in which you deserve.”
“But—”
“No more buts,” he told her gently as he came toward her. Reaching up, he traced his fingers along her che
ek, brushing away a stray strand of hair in the process. “I’ve waited much too long for this.”
He leaned forward, Katherine’s eyes fluttered shut and she felt the soft brush of lips against hers. This kiss was different from the previous ones. It wasn’t rushed or calculated, but careful . . . assessing. With trembling fingers, Katherine reached for him, pulling him closer until she felt herself pressed up against him, her heartbeat keeping pace with his. It dawned on her then: however calm and collected he seemed, he was anything but, and the realization humbled her.
Lucien knew he would have to tread lightly so as not to frighten her off again. She was skittish, and with good reason. Whatever had happened, she didn’t think herself worthy of a man’s affection, fearing she might repel him instead. The very idea that this was what troubled her not only angered him but also made him aware of just how slowly he would have to take this. He nibbled her lower lip to gauge her willingness, and the response was incredible—a sigh wrought from deep within her chest; a flutter of air that teased and tempted.
He drew her closer, his arms sliding firmly down her back as he kissed the corner of her mouth. A slow succession of kisses followed, each placed lovingly along her cheek, at her temple, and finally upon her brow. He needed her—desperately so—but he would revere her first, show her that she had no cause for alarm where he was concerned.
Stepping back, he took her hand in his and led her toward the full-length mirror that stood in one corner of the room. He placed her before it and stepped behind her, hands on her shoulders as he kissed his way along the sweep of her neck. “Look at yourself, Kate,” he murmured. “Look at how stunning you are.” Their eyes met in the mirror, unwavering while he unpinned her hair so the thick mass of curls could tumble down her back. Sweeping it aside, Lucien went to work on the buttons of her gown, remembering to place a tender kiss against the back of her neck between each one.
“I cannot tell you how long I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he whispered against her ear when all that remained was slipping the gown from her shoulders.
“And I fear your dreams may not live up to reality,” she said. Her voice was soft, her eyes still bravely fixed upon him in the mirror, but there was a note of sad regret to her words that tore at his heart.
“We’ll just have to see about that.” And before she had a chance to protest, he released his hold on her gown, allowing it to drop to the floor. He felt her flinch. “Don’t ever be embarrassed to let me see you, Kate. My desire for you is complete—I want you with every fiber of my being, every piece of my soul.”
She smiled ever so slightly—somewhat shyly. “You haven’t even seen that much more of me yet, Lucien, for I am still quite concealed by my undergarments.”
“Then I suggest we do something to change that.” Pulling at the laces of her stays, he soon discarded the item, allowing her chemise to fall in soft folds about her body, the translucent fabric hinting at the delectable figure she kept hidden beneath. “No fears,” he murmured as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and trailed them up along the backs of her thighs.
A gasp escaped her when he reached her bottom, and then another when he scraped the sides of her breasts. Pulling the fabric over her head, he flung it aside to reveal Katherine in all her glory—more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. Christ, he wanted her, to bury himself deep inside her, to claim her as his own. It was primal, this feeling that swept through him, hardening him to the point of despair.
“Well?” she asked, daring him to give his verdict.
“You’re incredible,” he said. “More beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”
“You needn’t lie to me, Lucien.” Bitterness traced her words.
Lucien tensed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Something fierce inside him broke free. “Don’t you dare tarnish this moment between us with self-doubt, Kate. I’ve always been honest with you, so if I tell you that you’re beautiful, then it’s because I mean it.”
“But what about the marks . . . the blemishes.” Her voice was but a sad little whisper as she stood there trembling, whether from cold or from humiliation Lucien dared not consider. He blinked. “What marks and blemishes?”
“Don’t you see them? There’s a red one on my thigh and three brown ones on my back?”
Lucien looked closer. He spotted the red one immediately due to its size—roughly that of a grown man’s hand. The brown ones were more discreet. “They’re just birthmarks, Kate. Surely you don’t imagine they’d have any influence on my feelings for you or the fact that I crave you more than I do air? Has this been the root of all your concerns?”
She nodded, and through the dim light of the glowing oil lamp, he saw that her eyes glistened with tears. Dear God, what the devil had happened to cause this level of upset in her? He didn’t need to voice the question out loud, for he suspected that he already knew the answer. Crossby.
“Listen to me, Kate,” he told her firmly as he turned her toward him, tilting her chin up with his fingers so he could look her in the eye. “You’ll always be everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, and my desire for you will never diminish.” Lowering his mouth over hers, he kissed her then with unabashed hunger, his tongue pressing against the seam of her lips until they parted, granting him entry. A groan escaped in response to his sudden advance, but her arms came about his neck and she clung to him, her body pressed against his own as he ravished her mouth, tasting that warm moist heat of her until he feared he might expire from sheer lust.
They came apart on a shared gasp. “I think you know enough to realize I’m telling the truth when I say I desire you,” Lucien said, his hands stroking down her back until he reached her bottom and pressed her against him. “Do you feel it?”
“Heavens,” Katherine breathed.
“Turn around,” he said. “Face the mirror and allow me to worship you.”
“But my stockings and shoes—”
“Make it so much more exciting, don’t you think?” Standing behind her, he trailed his fingers over her shoulder, across her chest, down over her belly and along her hip. “I like you like this . . . still partly dressed yet with all the necessary areas available to my touch. Your breasts . . .” He heard her suck in a breath as he reached up and filled his hands with her plump flesh, delighting in the way she relaxed against him, her lips parting on a slight murmur as he pinched her pebbling nipples.
“Does that feel good?” he asked.
Good? It felt incredible. Indeed, Katherine had never in her life believed it could feel quite like this. Why, he’d barely touched her at all, yet her body was already responding, humming with expectant vigor. “Yes,” she sighed as she leaned into his warmth.
Angling his head against her, he gently bit the side of her neck. A burst of quivers shot through her, almost buckling her knees. “Oh God,” was all she could manage to say.
Lucien, wicked man that he was, merely chuckled against her flesh. “If only we’d done this sooner,” he said, meeting her gaze in the mirror as he slid one hand over her belly, producing a tremor. “Have you any idea of the torturous nights I’ve spent fantasizing about you?”
Speechless, Katherine could do nothing but shake her head while her heart hammered furiously in her chest.
“I’ve thought of touching you in the most intimate way possible . . . of sliding my hand between your thighs and stroking you right there, where you ache the most. Tell me, Kate, are you aching there now?”
His scandalous words swept through her, expanding her need until it pooled in the exact place he’d just mentioned. Indeed, she found herself aching for his touch. Unable to lie, yet incapable of speech, she nodded once more. He rewarded her with a kiss against the side of her neck. “Would you like me to relieve the ache for you?” His fingers played lightly across her skin. “To love you the way you deserve to be loved?”
His question shot straight to her heart. Of course he’d phrased it in such a way that she couldn’t be sure exactly how he meant it—if it could be construed as a declaration of sorts. She dared not ask, fearing that whatever his feelings toward her were, they would not match her own. “Yes,” she whispered, and then more forcefully, “please, Lucien. I need you.”
“Good, because I need you too, Kate, more than you can possibly imagine.” He grazed his lips against her bare shoulder as he nudged her legs farther apart with his hands, opening her up . . . preparing her for his touch.
The image that met her gaze in the mirror was indeed a scandalous one, for she stood now in a wide stance, still clad in her stockings and slippers, with Lucien’s large frame looming behind her. His left hand covered one breast while his right rested upon her hip. “You look so inviting,” he murmured, tugging gently at her nipple while his right hand stroked down her thigh. “A man would have to be mad not to want you.”
His eyes held hers, and it was as if the veil concealing the truth for so long was finally lifted, allowing Katherine to see the beauty of which he spoke. What did it really matter if she had a few birthmarks when Lucien looked at her the way he did? The marks had never concerned her until Charles had mocked her for them, filling her with doubt and a crippling sense of worthlessness, but it was also clear to her now that Charles had never cared for her. With Lucien, however, it was different—he made her feel desirable.
“Show me,” she whispered, empowered by the hunger consuming his eyes.
He chuckled lightly, teasing her skin with the warmth of his breath.
And then those skillful fingers of his swept between her legs with feather softness—a caress so gentle it was scarcely there at all, yet it tortured Katherine’s sensitive flesh, evoking a moan of pleasure from deep within her chest. Heavens, it felt good—better than she’d ever thought possible. She tilted her hips, seeking more. “Again,” she pleaded, not caring how desperate she sounded or how embarrassed she’d likely be by this newfound wanton behavior of hers when she woke the following morning. All she could think of right now was the present and how desperately she wanted Lucien’s fingers to continue their ministration, for she sensed now that there could be more between a man and a woman than she’d ever thought possible.
The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 20