by Gaelen Foley
“Pay no attention to me, love.” He had the audacity then to nudge his way back into her womanhood without even asking.
“Aren’t you ever going to come?” she exclaimed, laughing in delight.
“In due time.”
“I had no idea you were such a bad man.”
“I know,” he drawled.
“Be gentle,” she pleaded.
“With you, always. Does it hurt, my lady?” he whispered as he ran his hand up her body in the most beguiling silken caress. It made her aware all over again of the tingling hip he touched, and her side, and her shoulder, then he cupped his hand over her arm. His every touch made her feel like a treasure. “Does it?” he breathed.
“Oh, Jordan,” she moaned, “you know I can’t resist you.”
“Nor I you, my beautiful one. My Mara. Do you know I’d die for you?”
Reaching back to caress his face weakly with her fingertips, she felt the sweat on his skin, his jaw in need of a shave. She savored the softness of his hair, and once more, she let him have his way.
She knew he needed it tonight.
“Come for me,” he whispered.
“Again?” she panted. “I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. Who knows when we may get another chance?”
“At the rate you’re going…” Her cheeky quip dissolved on her tongue, however, for as it turned out, he was right once more.
There’d be no living with his ego if they continued at this rate, she thought, as he drove her to edge of wild release.
Good God, this man’s cool control over her body was obscene. She was beginning to feel like she was no more than a violin in the hands of a virtuoso—made for him, fashioned to fit his hands alone, lovingly polished and perfectly tuned by a master, and only he could make her body sing.
“Oh, darling.” Embedded deep within her from behind, he carried her gently with him when he eased onto his back.
Mara lay atop him, indeed, draped over him, her head resting on his chest while her breasts heaved, her whole body bared to the otherwise empty room as she gazed up at the ceiling, half-blind with rapture.
He held her in place with both of his large, strong hands splayed across her belly as he controlled her motions from behind. She rose and fell on the waves of his muscled, undulating body. She gasped in aching pleasure and writhed atop him in a sweat. Relatively helpless in this position, there was nothing to do but to enjoy her ravishment.
And so she did.
Especially when he rose a bit, bracing his hands behind him, so that she was more reclining on him rather than lying down, and still he pleasured her ruthlessly.
With his mouth at her nape, his fingers plucking at her nipples, she could not believe it when she felt the crest of climax start rising steadily again.
This is ridiculous, she thought. But the final straw was when she noticed the mirror of her dressing table and saw right there the shocking spectacle of their bodies entwined. A bed with twisted, tangled sheets, a room bathed in the deep blue of a spring night, the glimmer of moonglow in the mirror revealing a scene of unbridled eroticism.
Well, she was Lord Falconridge’s mistress, after all.
And she refused to regret a moment of it.
Instead, she feasted on the victory of Jordan’s long-denied release when he came at last. He clamped his arms around her waist and gave her everything he had—every wrenching pulse of his seed, every anguished moan of bliss, each ragged gasp—as though he were simply emptying himself into her, both physically and emotionally until he was wrung out.
Silence followed. They were both completely spent. They separated to their respective places on the bed and stared at each other, rather matter-of-factly.
Jordan grinned at her after a moment or two.
Mara laughed and let a doting hand fall on his shoulder. “Really, Falconridge,” she chided with a pink-cheeked smile.
All of a sudden, her ears pricked up to an almost inaudible sound. She lifted her head off the pillow and swiveled a glance over her shoulder toward the door. “Did you hear something?” she murmured.
“No.” Jordan’s face darkened at once. He tensed and sat up. “What did you hear?”
“I think the baby’s up. Listen—”
“The baby? Jesus, Mara, don’t scare me like that. I thought you meant—never mind.”
“You need to relax,” she whispered.
He dragged his hand through his hair and muttered, “I’m trying.”
They both listened, gazing intimately at each other.
Then they both smiled when a sweet little voice came very faintly from beyond her chamber door.
“Mama?”
When Jordan heard that innocent, querying singsong, his whole expression changed. Looking utterly disarmed, he began laughing softly. “You’d better go see what he wants.”
“You don’t mind?”
“As if I could stop you. Go on. I’m well aware I’m not your favorite male in this rotten old world.”
“After that, you may be,” she murmured.
He pulled her close again for a hearty kiss, which Mara soon ended with a guilty frown. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?”
“We were quiet enough. God, you’re beautiful.” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Stay. Maybe he’ll fall back asleep.”
“Mama!”
“So much for that,” she murmured, smiling.
“Are you sure Mrs. Busby can’t see to him?”
“She’s not Mama. I’d better go put him back down before he starts crying.” She hopped out of bed, unable to stop herself.
“I suppose you can’t fight mother’s instinct.” Jordan folded his arms behind his head and rested back against the head-board, watching her in satisfied amusement as she quickly pulled on her dressing gown, tying the cloth belt.
“I’ll be right back.”
“I should be going, anyway—”
“Don’t you dare leave!” She shot him a look of protest. “You stay right where you are. Do not leave. I mean it, Falconridge. Or you and I are going to have a problem.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with a lazy grin.
She humphed. “You’re half-asleep already as it is. You’ll stay for breakfast; it’s almost sunrise, anyway. For now, you’re right where you belong.”
He smiled faintly at her. “I know.”
As she held his tender gaze, she had never felt closer to anyone than she did to him in that moment. Joy welled up in her so bright it made her feel lit up from within, like a candle set inside a lantern.
“Mama!”
“Going,” she whispered hastily, then she slipped out the door and practically floated down the hallway, in her heart, a secret prayer that by this time next year, Thomas might have a new baby brother or sister.
Jordan’s smile faded after she had gone.
God, he adored her. He had come to her in a moment of weakness, but he was already questioning the wisdom of that decision.
Things were about to get much more dangerous around his mission, and that meant it was best that he not see her again for a while.
He resented the duty that kept him away from her, but the safest thing he could do for her was to set her aside just temporarily while he completed his mission.
Mercer’s death would not be in vain, by God. It was time to push harder, take more risks to see his task through to the end.
Now that the storm of his rage had cleared, he realized that if Dresden Bloodwell had indeed spotted Mercer looking in his window, then he was likely alerted to the possibility that Albert had been compromised.
This meant that Albert was in danger, for if Bloodwell saw that he could no longer use the duke for his purposes, then it was almost certain that he would also kill Albert to bury the connection.
On the other hand, if Bloodwell confronted Albert and questioned him rather than killing him, Jordan knew that Albert already suspected him on account of the library incident, when Mara ha
d come knocking on the door calling his name.
There was a possibility that Albert could point Jordan out to Dresden Bloodwell—in which case, he had no business being anywhere near Mara; however, if Albert realized that he himself was in danger, it might be the perfect moment for Jordan to push to win his trust. It would be best for everyone if he could just somehow get Albert to talk.
That was where he was going to have to start spending more time and earnest effort…
But what should he tell Mara in the meanwhile?
He was going to have to tell her something to make sure she backed off to a safe distance and gave him the breathing room he required to finish the job. He couldn’t tell her the truth, of course, but he needed some sort of device to make sure she stayed out of harm’s way.
With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes in aggravation, weary of the duty that would once more keep them apart. After what they had just spent the past hour doing, her complete surrender to him, it was going to make him seem like an utter cad to back off from her now.
You should have thought of that earlier.
But he couldn’t, not in the sort of shape he’d been in when he had first arrived. He had needed her too much. He had reached out blindly for her from his pain. And she had been there for him…so beautifully.
She really was one of a kind.
Well, there was no help for it now. He was going to have to lie to her and be done with it. He had already told her so many falsehoods and half-truths pertaining to his real work for the Order, what was one more lie at this point? The thought brought a bruised, jaded feeling to his soul.
But this lie was only to protect her.
In any case, expert liars like him knew your best bet was always to stick as close to the truth as possible.
Pondering his true feelings for her in the darkness of her chamber, he took stock of the fears that still did, admittedly, trouble him on occasion.
As they filled his mind, arriving all too readily, he slid down into the welcome of her bed, stared into the darkness, and waited for her to come back from tending her child.
Chapter 15
What a dismal week she was having.
Mara attended a ball about a week later but was enjoying herself not a whit, despite her hosts having spared no expense for their daughter’s coming-out.
Once again, there was no sign of Jordan.
She flinched slightly when Delilah drifted over, fanning herself idly, and asked the obvious question.
“Where’s Falconridge?”
Mara checked her impatience, however, sipped her wine, and did not reply until she could manage a tone of perfect nonchalance. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen the man all week.”
Delilah’s fan stopped; she looked at her. “Why not?”
She took a deep breath and managed a taut smile. “He’s busy, I suppose.”
“Busy! What does that mean?” Delilah turned and stared at her in shock. “Did you two quarrel?”
“No, no,” Mara denied with a wave of her hand. “I am not the center of his universe, you know.”
“Well, you should be! Oh, I knew the second I saw you that something was wrong. Tell me what happened!”
Mara shook her head with a look that conceded her bewilderment. “I’m not exactly sure. To be honest, I’m a little worried about him. He was acting so strangely the last time I saw him.”
“When was that?”
“A week ago.”
“A whole week?”
“He showed up in my chamber in the middle of the night,” she confessed in a murmur. “He was troubled by something that had happened—which I’m not allowed to talk about—” she forewarned before Delilah could ask.
Mara shook her head, recalling it. “We spent an incredible night together, and the next day…”
Delilah waited, but Mara’s words trailed off into silence as she brooded on Jordan’s alarming words to her the next morning. Lord knew, she had been mulling them over in her mind from the moment he had walked out her door.
“I guess I’m feeling just a bit confused,” he had said as they had sat at the breakfast table. His sated, smiling mood had turned more serious after Mrs. Busby had taken Thomas off to get the boy dressed for the day.
Mara had laid her hand over his. “What are you confused about, darling?”
“Us,” he had answered, staring into her eyes. “Where all this is going.”
She had stared back at him, motionless, in the cheerful brightness of the parlor.
She remembered his careful tone all too well as he had added, “Perhaps it would be wise if we took a few days apart. To think about the future.”
Mara had set her teaspoon down uncertainly. “The future?”
“This is all happening so fast, don’t you think? It’s so strong.” He looked a little awed by what they had found together.
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked cautiously.
“No, no—of course not. I crave your patience with me. I just think it might be prudent to step back just for a bit and take a little time to think this through. Make sure it’s what we both want before we go any further.”
Mara was taken so much off guard by his doubts that she barely knew what to say. “Isn’t that the mistake that we made last time?”
“Exactly. We hurt each other so badly last time, I don’t want to take the chance of that happening again.” His tender stare had implored her to understand. “Please. I just need a little time.”
She knew that Mercer’s death had shaken him, and that he blamed himself. Maybe, somehow, that had something to do with his uncertainty. But she was nonetheless bewildered.
Time was the last thing she wished to give him, considering they had already lost twelve years together.
On the other hand, he didn’t seem to be giving her much choice.
She had struggled to show patience and compassion. “I am glad you told me how you feel, Jordan. You’re right, of course—this caught fire with a life of its own, between you and me. I can see how that could take you off guard. Especially after I vowed we would only be friends.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard you say on several occasions how much you value your independence as a widow.”
Her own words rang hollow to her. She should have known a day would come when she would have to eat them.
“As for me, I have the title to think of,” he had said softly, and it was this point that had silenced her.
How could she blame a traditional, duty-minded man like the Earl of Falconridge for harboring hopes of wedding a virgin in white?
It was every man’s dream, indeed, the expectation of every noble lord—which made her heart sink lower.
She had willingly become his mistress and taken him for her lover, but that was not marriage.
Theirs was a highly passionate affair, but she suddenly wondered if he was telling her now, for both their sakes, that that was all that it could ever be.
As these thoughts promptly ruined her appetite, she suddenly thought that if he wanted time, he could have it, for these were words she was in no hurry to hear.
“There’s also the boy to think of,” Jordan had lastly pointed out. “He’s already lost one father, and the more attached he grows to me, the more difficult it will be on him if we ever decide to stop seeing each other.”
She had looked at him in a panic.
How could he say the words so calmly? Losing him was unthinkable for her. But amid the chaos he had loosed in her soul, her mothering instinct homed in on the validity of his warning. Forget her own heart breaking—Thomas must be protected at all costs.
Mastering her emotions, she had chosen her response with the utmost care. “Perhaps you’re right,” she had said with a cool control worthy of any Falconridge. “Maybe we both have some thinking to do. Thank you for bringing this up,” she forced out, “not just keeping these misgivings to yourself. I truly appreciate your honesty. It’s best to have all this out in the open between us.”
&nbs
p; He had nodded though he looked somewhat distraught.
She had reached out and touched his forearm. “Take all the time you need. You know how much I care for you. I’m not going anywhere.”
If he had come back to her after twelve years apart, then a few more weeks were not going to matter in the long run. And if he did not, it was best to have the hurt now and be done with it before she fell any more deeply in love with him. So she told herself.
If a little time apart helped Jordan clear his head, where was the harm? For her part, she was so sure deep down to her bones that their love was destiny that he must surely reach the same conclusion.
But with each passing day that she did not even hear from him, it grew harder to hold on to her faith.
“…And I haven’t seen him since,” she finished telling Delilah about their difficult exchange.
Her worldly friend shook her head, looking stunned and appalled. “That’s it. I’m giving up on men. If even Falconridge can turn out to be a bounder, then there’s no hope for any of them.”
“I’m sure he’s not a bounder.”
“Well, it sounds like it to me! I saw how hotly he pursued you all these weeks, Mara. He was like a bloodhound on the scent after you, no matter how he tried to feign that the two of you were only friends. Now that he’s well and truly caught you, has he tired of the game? If so, that puts him among the most odious members of the entire male race—”
“No, no, he’s not like that at all,” Mara protested, though with uncertain conviction.
“Oh, really? And how do you know? I’ll take a horsewhip to him if he thinks he can do this to my friend!”
“No, Delilah. I’m afraid he has a good reason for reconsidering our affair. He’s probably just trying to spare me now from future heartache.”
“What do you mean?”
Mara let out a small sound of distress, trying to think how to put it.
She wanted to believe his hesitation had been solely triggered by the death of the soldier under his command. She knew it had hit him hard, and she could see how something like that would make him feel compelled to reevaluate his responsibilities.
Unfortunately, she knew Jordan Lennox rather better than that. In her heart of hearts, the place where her deepest fears lurked, she worried there was more to it than mere male boredom or anything like Delilah had accused.