by Connie Mason
“We are still married, Luca,” Morgan said quietly.
Luca relaxed visibly.
“You still haven’t told me what you are doing in London and how you got here. I’m amazed that Clyde Withers let you leave after I instructed him to keep you in West Sussex.”
Not wanting to get Withers in trouble, Luca declared, “Mr. Withers had nothing to do with my being in London. I found my own transportation.”
Dismayed, Morgan’s mouth gaped open. “Bloody Hell, woman. do you realize the danger you exposed yourself to by traveling unescorted? Whatever possessed you to leave?”
“Rumors travel rather fast, and servants do gossip. Did you think I wouldn’t hear about your licentious behavior at court? Why didn’t you write me, Morgan? I’ve heard nothing directly from you since you left Scott Hall.”
Morgan’s hungry gaze literally devoured Luca. He was happy that she had reached London safely, but he was still angry at her for traveling alone. Just thinking about the danger she could have encountered made him shudder in dread. She risked all manner of mishaps, particularly since she was a stranger to England. That she made it to Whitehall safely spoke volumes about her courage and resourcefulness.
“I’ve kept in touch through Withers and Forsythe. Did they not inform you when my messages arrived?”
“Withers was good enough to inform me, but I would have preferred a personal message. You deliberately left me in the country so you could act the libertine at court. I thought your mistress quite amusing.”
Morgan flushed, unable to deny Luca’s charges. He deserved Luca’s resentment. But to his credit he hadn’t actually made Jane his mistress. He had hoped the old adage “Out of sight, out of mind” would apply to Luca once he had left her disrupting influence, but it hadn’t worked that way. Prolonged absence made him realize how desperately he wanted Luca. Lady Jane, with her pallid English beauty, couldn’t begin to compare to his vibrant wife. Luca moved him in mysterious ways. There was something deep and disturbing about her; something indescribably tempting.
He needed her.
Having her alone in his room made him tremble with anticipation.
“I have no mistress,” he said truthfully.
Luca snorted derisively. “Regardless of what you think, I’m no fool. I saw you and Lady Jane earlier when you entered the Presence Chamber from God only knows where. Only a blind man would not notice your shameless state of disarray. It was obvious you had been engaged in an illicit affair. And what about just now, when I walked into your chamber and saw the lady in your arms? You looked as if you were ready to toss her skirts over her head and have at her.”
“Think what you like, Luca, but I’m telling the truth. I’ve not bedded Jane or any other woman since I met you. I’m not proud of my celibate state, or the fact that none of the court ladies appealed to me. As long as I’m being honest I may as well admit that you are the source of my misery. I can’t stop thinking about you long enough to bed another woman. I should punish you for coming to London without my permission, but I suddenly find myself hungry for the taste of your kisses. I want you. I want to be inside you. surrounded by you. And God help me, I don’t want this feeling to stop.”
Luca opened her mouth to hurl a stinging retort, but Morgan halted it effortlessly by pulling her into his arms and seizing her lips with frantic urgency. The hot sweep of his tongue across the seam of her lips sent a jolt of raw pleasure surging through her veins. She had yearned for this for so long that her emotions were raw and exposed. His touch was like magic, rendering her vulnerable to his erotic seduction. She melted against him and opened her mouth to him. Despite his lies about his numerous infidelities, Luca was helpless to resist the man she loved more than life.
Morgan’s kiss deepened, his tongue dueling with hers in a passionate exchange that left Luca breathless. She moaned beneath her breath when he sucked her tongue into his mouth and ravished it thoroughly, roughly, grasping her bottom and pulling her more solidly against the hardening cradle of his loins. With senseless abandon she gave herself up to his bruising kiss, thick with the taste of his hunger and mindless desire. With deliberate slowness he mated his mouth with hers, thrusting deeply with his tongue while he caressed her breasts.
Luca submitted to his passion, letting it surround her in a bright. shimmering haze. She felt giddy with the scent of his arousal, strong and tangy and infinitely male. He had unleashed some primitive impulse deep within her, and she ground her hips against him in wanton response. This wasn’t mere lust; this madness went deeper, was more enduring. What she felt for Morgan was love, the kind that happened only once in a lifetime.
“Witch,” Morgan muttered as he worked frantically to release the ties at the back of her dress. “Sultry witch.” The sweet taste of her surrender excited him beyond endurance.
“I’m no witch,” Luca challenged as her bodice slipped past her shoulders. “I’m your wife, Morgan. Witchcraft is sinful and wicked.”
“Aye, sweetheart. wife,” Morgan agreed as his lips slid down the slender column of her neck. raining gentle kisses against the upper portion of her breasts. “My wicked, sinful wife.”
A sound of strangled pleasure escaped her when he peeled her corset and chemise away and took her nipple into his mouth. She was panting by the time he tugged her remaining garments from her body and knelt before her, stroking her bottom with consummate tenderness, nipping and licking her exquisitely sensitive nipples. When he had satisfied his hunger for her breasts, his mouth blazed a trail of fire across her stomach. Before continuing his downward path, he looked up and gave her a wicked grin. Then he lowered his mouth to the shiny nest of ebony curls below.
Luca shuddered violently, clutching his head in an effort to stop the sinful thrust of his tongue. “Morgan, no!”
“Aye, sweetheart, let me do this for you.” Holding her tightly against him. he spread her legs slightly and inserted a finger into her slick sheath.
Luca thought she would die of rapture as he brushed his lips and tongue over her most sensitive flesh while creating a delicious pressure with the thrust and withdrawal of his finger into her intimate channel, She felt herself drifting, spiraling out of control, and suddenly her legs could no longer hold her. Morgan sensed the moment that weakness overcame her, and he swept her from her feet. Luca cried out in deprivation when his hands and mouth left her, but he crooned into her ear, telling her he’d not leave her, that he’d give her the pleasure she craved. Then he placed her on the bed and tore off his clothing. He joined her before Luca could fully appreciate the masculine beauty of his aroused body, but she felt him. full and heavy and hot as he pressed her down into the mattress.
Her arms came around him. wanting him inside her, raising her hips to give him free access, but he ignored her silent plea as he slid down her body and hooked her knees over his shoulders. Then he lowered his head and feasted on her with bold strokes of his tongue while his hands roved demandingly over her thighs, breasts, and bottom. She bucked wildly, but Morgan held her tightly, anchoring her against his mouth as she moved against him. Soft sobs shook her. He sucked her deeply, relentlessly, until she cried out her climax.
Releasing her knees, he watched her face. Her mouth was open. her eyes glazed. her body rosy with shattering ecstasy. With splintering insight he realized they shared something special. If not for the Spanish blood she carried in her veins, he could readily give a name to those feelings.
Luca looked into Morgan’s eyes and recognized his confusion. But she saw something else. Something deep and abiding and caring. She smiled dreamily and opened her arms to him. “Come into me, Morgan.” Her fingers curled around his distended staff, bringing him to the very portal of her softness.
Morgan groaned out his eagerness, lifted her hips, and slid full and deep inside her. The pleasure was pure agony. He was heavy and hard and throbbing. He felt her incredible heat squeeze and surround him, felt her tilt her hips so she could take him deeper, felt her arms clasp and h
old him, and he gave himself up to the magic of their joining. He filled and stretched her until she was taut, ready to burst with throbbing pleasure.
Hot ecstasy flooded Luca’s senses as Morgan suddenly shifted positions, sinking even deeper inside her as he brought her atop him. “Ride me, sweet Luca,” he urged, pounding into her with wild fury. She sobbed her delight, threw her head back, and let her instincts guide her.
Heat and friction combined to drive her inexorably toward another powerful climax. It was heaven, it was Hell, it was the most perfect paradise Luca had ever known. Love such as she had never imagined welled up in her heart at the sounds of Morgan’s groans and cries, pleased that she was giving him the same kind of rapture he was giving her. She moved against him wantonly, offering her aching breasts to the hot possession of his mouth. He licked and sucked greedily, tasting paradise. Then he was soaring, breaking free of his earthly bonds, taking Luca with him as he drove into her with deep, riveting strokes. She cried out her climax. He absorbed the sound with his mouth, adding his own piercing cries to the melody of love.
Tears blurred Luca’s vision. Morgan’s loving had touched her profoundly, and she feared he didn’t feel the same about her. With a grim sense of recognition, Luca realized Morgan couldn’t accept her love. Revenge was like a slow poison, filling his heart with hate and resentment, Dios! Was there no hope for them? She gazed at Morgan, wanting to ask him if he felt anything for her but lust, yet fearing she wouldn’t like the answer. They were still joined intimately; Morgan held her tightly against him, as if reluctant to release her.
Suddenly he opened his eyes and met her searching gaze. He brushed a wisp of dark hair from her damp forehead and gave her a wry smile. “I missed you.”
Luca gave a snort of disbelief. “Is that why you sent me so many endearing messages?” She tried to disengage their bodies, but Morgan seemed content to have her resting atop him.
“You can’t possibly understand what drives me, or imagine the pain I suffered at the hands of your countrymen. You’ve seen the marks I carry on my back. They’re not a pretty sight.”
“Morgan, I…”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Do you think it is easy watching your entire family being wiped out by murdering bastards insensitive to human suffering? Spanish bastards, Luca. You are the first Spaniard for whom I’ve felt anything but intense hatred. Wanting you the way I do confuses and angers me.
“Lord knows I’ve tried my damnedest to work you out of my system. Admitting my weakness for you is excessively painful. I don’t like feeling this way about any woman. I always thought I’d have children one day, but having children with Spanish blood sickens me. God forbid that you should quicken with my child, for I don’t know if I could accept that. That’s one of the reasons I left you in the country. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Morgan had no idea how profoundly his words hurt Luca. She too wanted children, but in her mind she pictured miniatures of Morgan. If he didn’t want her to bear his children, she could see no future for them. After his candid confession she realized that Morgan would be better served wedded to Lady Jane. Annulling their marriage seemed the only solution, for she could not tolerate the thought of Morgan despising a child of their union.
She had to leave Morgan. If she remained, a child was an inevitable result of their craving for one another. Luca thought it a miracle she wasn’t already carrying his child.
With concentrated effort she drew the shattered remains of her dignity around her, discarding her dreams of a future with Morgan. “Out of sight, out of mind,” she repeated bleakly. “I must leave you, Morgan.”
Morgan’s expression hardened. The play of light from the window made a sinister landscape of his face. “Like Hell! You’re not leaving me, now or ever.”
His arms tightened, and he thrust up into her with renewed vigor. After a few minutes’ rest, he wanted her again. All his conflicting emotions were perversely at odds with one another, but of one thing he was certain: While he was buried deep inside her, the thought of letting her go was a denial of his heart’s desire. The aching need for Luca was raw and bleeding and could be healed by no woman but his wife.
“But what if…”
“Don’t talk, sweetheart, just feel.”
Luca felt. She felt the pain of his rejection and the joy of his need. And she prayed they would not make a child.
Chapter 16
The night was still young. Luca lay sleeping in Morgan’s bed as he dressed and left to keep his appointment with Stan Crawford aboard the Avenger. When Morgan and Stan were sitting in the captain’s cabin sharing a bottle of brandy, Morgan announced, ‘Luca is in London.”
“You sent for her?” Stan asked, startled by Morgan’s disclosure. “The queen won’t be pleased. I thought you were considering the queen’s proposal to dissolve your marriage and wed the Lady Jane.”
“Hell no I didn’t send for Luca! Besides, an annulment is Queen Bess’s idea, not mine. I tried my damnedest to play by the queen’s rules. You have no idea how bored I am with conniving court ladies and prissy courtiers. I don’t belong here, Stan. Playing the courtier doesn’t suit me. Dancing attendance upon the queen isn’t my idea of a rewarding life. Bloody Hell! Why couldn’t Luca have remained in the country? Now I am forced to introduce her to society and stand helplessly by while she’s shunned and ridiculed. Her Spanish blood will make her an unpopular subject.”
“We could leave,” Stan suggested. “The Avenger is fully provisioned and ready to sail.”
“I’m tempted, Stan, but I can’t leave while England has need of my ship. We both know the Spanish Expedition is very real and an imminent threat to England’s shores. I’m taking the Avenger to join Sir Frances Drake’s fleet the moment the armada is spotted in English waters.”
“What about Luca?”
“She’ll remain in London,” Morgan said tersely. “I’ll introduce her to the queen and hope for the best.”
Crawford searched Morgan’s face, wondering if his captain knew he was in love with his own wife or if he was just too stubborn to realize it. Crawford thought Morgan a bloody fool to let Luca’s Spanish heritage destroy what could be a happy marriage.
“Do you still believe Luca ordered your beatings in Havana? If you believe she hated you enough to advocate your death, I seriously doubt you’d still want her. Forgiveness isn’t one of your virtues.”
“I have few virtues, as you well know, Stan.” Morgan took a healthy slug of brandy before continuing. “But you’re correct in assuming I no longer believe Luca became del Fugo’s mistress and ordered my beatings. If I did I would have devised a punishment worthy of the crime. If I was to admit…” His words fell off, and he gazed absently into the amber liquid in his glass.
“God help me. I’ve spent my entire adult life hating Spaniards and suddenly I find myself doubting my motives for revenge, my very sanity. I know Luca and I are an unlikely couple, that we’ve been thrown together by fate, but no other woman pleases me like Luca.”
He stretched to his feet, embarrassed that he’d revealed so much about his innermost feelings. He was seldom driven to discuss matters of the heart.
“’Tis time I left. Luca will be awake now, and I still have an errand to attend to. Luca left Scott Hall without baggage, and her wardrobe will have to be replenished before she can be presented at court.”
“Don’t worry about the Avenger, Morgan. She’s ready to sail when you are.”
“Keep the men on a tight rein,” Morgan advised. “It will do us littie good if they are all in grog shops when we need them.”
Luca awoke feeling indolent yet strangely content. She stretched languorously and smiled, recalling the rapturous hours spent making love with Morgan. After a moment of blissful recollection, she suddenly frowned, remembering how Morgan had cruelly renounced any child they might conceive. Leaping from bed, she dropped to her knees, fervently praying that no child had been conceived from their tempestuous mat
ing. After a long interval of prayer, she rose unsteadily and began to dress, all the while contemplating her dismal future.
She had no idea when Morgan had left their bed or how long she’d slept, but her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten a decent meal since leaving Scott Hall. It had grown dark while she slept, but Luca surmised it wasn’t late for she could hear strains of music drifting through the corridors. She’d heard that Elizabeth’s court was a frivolous place where dances and such were held nearly every night. Is that where Morgan went? she wondered. To dance with his mistress and play the gallant? Did he enjoy hopping from bed to bed?
Another loud rumble reminded Luca of her empty stomach and she decided to find a footman who could direct her to food. The corridor was empty when she stepped from the chamber; no footman was in sight. She followed the sounds of music, hoping to find someone who could help her.
“Lady Scott, how wonderful to see you again so soon. Are you looking for your husband? Don’t tell me he hasn’t returned to his chamber.”
Luca started violently, then relaxed when she recognized Lord Harley. “Lord Harley, you startied me. I’ve seen Morgan, but he seems to have disappeared again.”
“Well, then,” Harley said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “allow me to escort you.”
“Oh, no, there is no need,” Luca declared, drawing back in alarm. “I’m merely looking for something to eat. Perhaps you can direct me. Anything will do.”
“Indeed not,” Harley said indignantly. “Not just anything will do for you, my lady. A woman of your great beauty and charm deserves a feast fit for a queen. Come,” he said, offering his arm. “I know a private place where you may enjoy a meal.”