The Scandalous Flirt

by Olivia Drake

  The tilbury had been the only other vehicle missing from the stables. They could only conclude that Henry had used it as the getaway vehicle.

  Rory shivered, as much from worry as the night chill. She was grateful for the blanket draped over her lap. The curricle had a leather hood, but the open front allowed the wind to whip cold raindrops at their faces. A pair of glass lanterns fastened to the front provided the only illumination in the stygian gloom. She had to trust in Lucas’s driving skills in handling the pair of horses that trotted into the night, hooves clopping and harness jingling.

  “Celeste should have known better, too,” Rory said. “Oh, I wish I had made her promise not to do anything rash!”

  His gloved hand came down over hers in her lap. “It’s as much my fault as yours for not keeping a tighter rein on Henry. But don’t worry, we’ll find them.”

  His gaze regarded her tenderly in the scanty light of the twin lanterns. His hand felt warm and heavy resting on hers, and an answering warmth leaped to life inside of her. If only they were the ones racing to the border to be married, she thought. But it was foolish to wish for something that could never be.

  Her love for him was as doomed as the love between Celeste and Henry.

  Lucas returned his attention to the road. Unwilling to distract him from the dangers of night driving, Rory said no more. Yet she leaned against him, wanting to savor every moment in his company, even under such dreadful circumstances. She prayed he was right about catching up to the runaways.

  It broke her heart to think of the anguish in store for Celeste. She would have to be told of Kitty’s affair and the identity of her true father. This marriage between her and Henry must never happen.

  Once Kitty had been coaxed out of her swoon with a whiff of hartshorn, she had admitted everything, how she had tricked Rory’s father into wedding her, and that eventually he had guessed the truth. How strange to realize that Kitty, too, had committed the grave error of being seduced by a married man. Although in Rory’s case, she hadn’t known Stefano had a wife back in Italy.

  Cold droplets splattered them as their route to the north took them straight into a storm. Lightning flashed in the distance and thunder rumbled. The rain steadily increased to a torrent. The hood of the curricle protected them from the worst of the downpour, but Rory shivered from the icy trickles down her face and into the collar of her cloak.

  Lucas had to slow the horses as the road turned into a muddy quagmire. The large wheels bumped and splashed through potholes. They passed no other vehicles. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. Or perhaps everyone else had had the good sense to weather the stormy night at home in their warm beds.

  The howling wind buffeted the carriage. With every crash of thunder, the horses snorted and flinched. More than once, Lucas had to strain to guide the pair away from a ditch.

  After one particularly loud strike, he bent his head close while keeping his gaze pinned to the road. “It’s too hazardous to go on,” he half shouted over the noise of the tempest. “We’ll have to stop. Up there.”

  Blinking the raindrops from her lashes, Rory peered ahead and saw a glimmer of lights through the murky gloom. An inn. “Perhaps we can ask if anyone has seen Celeste and Henry.”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry, we won’t have lost any time. If my brother has a lick of sense, he’ll have stopped somewhere, too.”

  As the carriage turned into the inn yard, a stable boy darted out to hold the horses in the pouring rain. Rory was thoroughly soaked by the time she stepped into the warmth of a common room. While she stood dripping by the door, Lucas went to speak to the proprietor. They had a few minutes’ conversation during which she rubbed her chilled arms beneath the cloak.

  Then he returned to her, his chocolate-brown hair damp and tousled, his face unsmiling. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t seen them.”

  “Oh! I was so hoping…”

  “Also, the inn is nearly full because of the storm. I’m afraid there’s only one room left.” His keen gray eyes fastened on her. “To protect your reputation, I had to tell him we were husband and wife.”

  Chapter 24

  A noble bachelor is considered distinguished by age, whilst an unmarried lady is a spinster by one-and-twenty.

  —MISS CELLANY

  Rory sat on a stool by the small fire. Having unpinned her bun, she combed her fingers through the damp ends of her hair. It had stayed mostly dry thanks to the protection of her bonnet.

  The tiny bedchamber was situated under the eaves. Rain sluiced down the dormer window, and every now and then, lightning illuminated the glass panes. It was long past midnight, and she ought to be weary after the volatile events of the day. Yet she felt alive with quivery anticipation.

  Her gaze strayed to the double bed with its feather pillows and blue coverlet. In spite of all that had happened, in spite of the impossibility of their situation, she couldn’t stop imagining herself lying there with Lucas. He had gone back out to fetch their cases and to check on the horses in the stable, leaving her alone with a riot of lascivious thoughts.

  She wasn’t a naïve young girl anymore. She knew exactly what would happen if she allowed it. The decision would be all hers because Lucas would never force himself on her. Yet she had made a mistake once before and had been sent into exile. Did she dare seize this one night of happiness?

  A quiet knock sounded. She sprang to her feet just as the door clicked open and Lucas ducked his head to enter the cozy bedchamber. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. His dark, wet hair was slicked back from his harshly handsome features. Rain dripped from his greatcoat and onto the wood planks of the floor.

  Their eyes met. His gaze traversed over her loose black hair as it tumbled down the shoulders of her gown and curled around her bosom. He stared for a long, stirring moment before shutting the door, placing her bandbox and his satchel on top of a small dresser. He removed his wet coat and hung it from a wall hook.

  As he turned back toward her, a jagged streak of lightning illuminated the grim tightness of his mouth. “You’d better get some rest,” he growled. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  He desired her. Oh, yes, he did. She could see it in the silvery gleam of his eyes and jerkiness of his movements as he untied his cravat. Their awareness of each other crackled in the air like the flashes of the storm outside.

  He sat down on the stool by the fire to pull off his boots. The flames illuminated the quickened rise and fall of his chest. Shameless passion for him pulsed between her legs. She had been raised a lady and oughtn’t be entertaining such carnal thoughts. Yet if she had to spend the rest of her life alone, she yearned to have this one bright memory of intimacy with the man she loved with all her heart and soul.

  Rory whirled around, presenting her back to him. Over her shoulder, she said in a soft, throaty voice, “Will you unbutton my gown, please?”

  Rain lashed the window for a moment before his heavy footsteps approached. She shifted the thick fall of her hair over her shoulder and out of his way. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her neck, sending sparks of longing sizzling through every part of her body. She loved his touch, so strong and capable yet gentle, as he worked his way down to her waist, unfastening the gown and exposing her undergarments to his view.

  “It would be a great help,” she murmured, “if you would loosen my corset strings, too.”

  His hands suddenly gripped hard around her waist from behind. “Good God, Rory! How can you ask me that? I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

  The torment in his voice pleased her mightily. She swiveled to face him, resting her hands on the solid wall of his chest, savoring the heat that he radiated. “You said we’re to be husband and wife for this one night. So what could be more right than for us to share the bed?”

  He stared down at her, his eyes glittering with hunger. He appeared to be wrestling with his conscience, and Rory knew that because of his father’s depravity, Lucas had always exercised iron c
ontrol over his own passions. She moved sinuously to entice him, letting her hips skate against his, relishing the sweet friction of their bodies.

  To her joy, he made a harsh sound in his throat as his mouth swooped down to claim hers. She opened to him at once. The erotic slide of his tongue against hers pulled mewling sounds of pleasure from deep inside her throat. He kissed her long and hard, his lips ravenous and provocative. All the while, his hands skimmed up and down the open back of her gown. Then he brought one around to cup her breast, his thumb moving over the tip. She clung to him as her insides melted to liquid fire.

  Lifting his head, he clasped her so tightly that she could feel the heavy thumping of his heart against her bosom. His lips grazed her hair, nipped her ear, licked her throat as if he could not get enough of her. Then he sipped at her lower lip as if she were made of the sweetest nectar.

  “God help me,” he muttered. “I haven’t the strength to resist you.”

  She ran her fingers inside his collar, absorbing the warmth of his skin. “I’ll gladly play the scandalous flirt if I can tempt you into losing control.”

  He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Must you remind me? I should never have called you that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “No, Rory, you’re far more than that. You’re beautiful inside and out.”

  He gazed deeply into her eyes, his lips poised over hers. She could see the honesty in his gaze, for the stony mask was gone. His face was expressive with a yearning that arose from his heart. Though she knew it was wrong, a mad hope simmered in her. If only they could be together forever. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself on tiptoe to nestle her cheek against his, relishing the roughness of his whiskered skin.

  “Oh, Lucas,” she said on a sigh. “Make love to me.”

  He joined their mouths again in a drugging kiss that left her dizzy for more. Her need for him blossomed and grew until longing enveloped every part of her. Lucas was everything she wanted—and everything she could never have. At the edge of her mind she knew they only had this one night together, and that knowledge honed her desire for him to a keen sharpness.

  When he drew back slightly to push the gown off her shoulders, she wriggled against him in her eagerness to disrobe, tugging on the tight sleeves until the garment slithered downward into a leaf-green pool at her feet. The same wild excitement seized hold of him as well. In between frantic kisses, they tore at each other’s clothing, abandoning them to fall onto the floor in a scattered heap.

  She craved to feel his skin against hers, to lie beneath him and accept the weight of his body. But when they were nude to the waist, Lucas didn’t take her to the bed. He drew her flush against him and subjected her to another lingering kiss. The sculpted muscles of his chest against her bare breasts made her nipples tighten and ache. In a fever of impatience, she reached to the waistband of his pants.

  He caught hold of her wrist. “Not yet,” he said in a harsh whisper, his lips roving her face. “Or we’ll be done too swiftly.”

  “Isn’t it supposed to be swift?”

  He cocked his head, and a smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “Not if you wish to reach the pinnacle of pleasure.”

  “But all of this is pleasurable.”

  His smile became a devilish grin. “It’ll be better. Much better. Trust me.”

  With that, he bent his dark head and applied his attention to her bosom. He palmed one breast in his hand, playing with the tip before drawing it into his mouth to suckle her for long, delicious moments. Arching her head back, Rory closed her eyes and threaded her fingers into the rough silk of his hair. Rivulets of heat blazed downward to feed the fire in her privates. She had not known a man could kiss her in such a way, or that it could feel so heavenly.

  Was this what he meant by better? Because she certainly wanted more of it … much more.

  He hunkered down to unfasten her garters and peel off her silk stockings. His touch stirred shivers over her skin. He kissed her knees and her thighs until she felt on the verge of swooning. With his face on level with the juncture of her thighs, she felt a hum of excitement sweep through her. He feathered his hand over the nest of fine hairs that protected her most private place. Yet he didn’t quite touch the spot that wept for him.

  “Lucas,” she moaned in entreaty, bracing her hands on his broad shoulders to hold herself upright. “Please…”

  At the first movement of his finger, she shuddered from an intense rush of delight. He fondled her lightly before venturing deeper into her sensitive folds. She ought to be embarrassed, yet she could not be. There was a fevered anticipation in her that she didn’t quite understand. The sweet tension in her body pulled taut and compressed her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

  Then, in a shockingly intimate act, he slipped his finger inside and stroked her. That deep, soul-shattering caress wrested a cry from her lips. A burst of ecstasy radiated outward to convulse her body, and it was like nothing she had ever known, this tide of frenzied pleasure that held her enthralled and then gradually ebbed away, leaving her drained, dazed, and delighted.

  She felt blissfully limp as Lucas swooped her up into his arms. “I want you in bed,” he growled. “Now.”

  His guttural tone reminded her that this was far from over. He had not even joined their bodies yet. Floating in a sea of joy, she looped her arms around his neck and breathed deeply of his alluring masculine scent. “Mm.”

  He drew back the covers and laid her down against the pillows. Lightning flashed beyond the window, revealing the dark glitter of his eyes. Bending over her, he brushed a stirring kiss to her lips. “Happy?”

  “Oh, Lucas. I didn’t know such pleasure existed.”

  “There’s more yet to come, darling.”

  Standing beside the bed, he shucked his trousers and kicked them away. She gloried at her first sight of a fully naked man. By the light of the fire, his member jutted long and thick, and her insides softened with readiness for him. He was flawlessly created, virile and masculine, the perfect complement to her womanhood.

  The mattress dipped as he settled down beside her, molding her curves to the hot furnace of his body. She could feel the heaviness of his manhood burning against her thigh. Yet he didn’t seek to satisfy his passions at once.

  Instead, he held her in his arms and gently combed his fingers through the tangle of her hair. “Before we go any further, Rory, I want you to know something.” His voice husky, he paused for the space of a heartbeat. “I want you to know that I love you.”

  She’d thought that the bodily pleasure he’d given her had been the ultimate bliss. Yet now, joy took wing inside her, showering her with feelings so powerful that tears sprang to her eyes. She reached out to cup his face in the palms of her hands. “Oh, Lucas. I love you, too. With all my heart.”

  A fierce sigh eddied from him. “Tonight, at least, you’re mine. All mine.”

  “Yes.”

  Their lips joined, his tongue stroking in and out, igniting that fiery river that channeled downward to the delta of her womanhood. This was true love’s kiss, she realized hazily. This perfect paradise created by the two of them becoming one. It freed her to give herself to him with reckless abandon. She arched against Lucas, wanting desperately to absorb him into herself. He was too honorable a man to promise her more than he could give. And since they couldn’t have forever, she must wring every bit of happiness from this one night in his arms.

  His big hand swept downward over her breasts and hips, following the shape of her curves, as if to imprint them on his memory. She relished the chance to explore him as well, the solid flesh of his chest, the corded muscles of his thighs and back. She pressed her lips to his throat where his pulse raced wildly. His skin tasted of salt and she inhaled the tempting scent that belonged to him alone. She knew that she would never again catch a whiff of pine or leather without yearning for him.

  Or yearning for this.

  He slid hi
s hand between them to play with her again, teasing and stroking, encouraging a revival of that wonderfully enticing tension. With every particle of her being, she wanted to reach that pinnacle again, this time with Lucas there with her. When she moved her hips and moaned, he pressed her back against the linen sheets, his body descending over hers. She sighed at the sensation of his rougher skin gliding against her tender flesh. Everywhere he was hard, she was soft. They were made for each other, and she opened her legs in wanton invitation.

  “Please, Lucas…” she whispered. “Love me.”

  “I do. For always.”

  On that fierce statement, he settled over her and she felt the exciting pressure of his thickness sliding inside her. A twinge of discomfort beset her, but only for a moment. When he was snugly sheathed in her depths, he went still, only his chest rising and falling with harsh breaths. He held tightly to her and gazed into her eyes. A distant flash of lightning revealed the tautness of wonder on his face.

  “My God,” he muttered, searching her face. “You were a virgin. I thought…”

  “What everyone thought,” she finished. “But you see, I never quite had the full enjoyment of being ruined until now.” She moved her hips beneath him, relishing the sharp intake of his breath. “And I do enjoy it. Very much.”

  “Rory … I’ve dreamed of this. For so long.”

  He caught her mouth in a kiss that conveyed the force of his desire for her. His tongue stroked in and out, tightening the delicious coil of tension in her loins. For so long. She wondered hazily what he’d meant. They’d only become reacquainted this week, though at the moment she could not remember a time when she’d hadn’t known him.

  Then she was too enthralled to think about anything but the feel of him within her, linking their bodies into one being. As he kissed her, she felt him quiver as if he held his passions under strict control. But she didn’t want restraint. She wanted the freedom of unbridled lust, the chance to follow these wild sensations wherever they might lead. Clinging to him, she undulated her hips to entice him along for the ride.