by Chloe Harris
“And all this time she didn’t tell you who she was or why she needed to get here?”
Shaking his head, Connor admitted, “I lost my heart to a woman with secrets. It seems to be a pattern with the O’Connors.”
As soon as the words were out, Connor saw Kier look down to hide the sudden scowl on his face before he stood and refilled their glasses.
After all these years, he still refused to talk about it. But Connor didn’t back down. “What still strikes me as strange is that Gabby suddenly found the courage to defy Talbot.”
Kieran shot him a warning glance. “The Baroness Wickfield surely had her reasons. And now she’ll rot in prison for covering for her husband.” His mouth twisted in a humorless smile, flashing white teeth.
Careful to hide his thoughts behind an impenetrable mask, Connor leaned back, cradling the glass of brandy in his hands. “Do you think that’s wise? A mother belongs with her child, no?”
“Her parents can look after the boy.” Kier shrugged with an air of total detachment, but Connor knew it was just an act.
“Oh yes, I forgot about her loving parents, who were so devoted to her that they traded her off to a title rather than to–”
“No, she’d said herself it was her desire to marry Talbot.”
“I wonder, though …”
Setting his glass down with a loud clank, Kier whirled around. If looks could kill, Connor would at least be maimed. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Walking around the table, Connor leaned against the window again, capturing the curtain between his index and middle fingers to pull it aside just a little and glimpse at the driveway. Still no coach anywhere in sight.
Silence stretched between them and Connor had a rising feeling that this gamble was about to explode in his face.
Kier sighed. “We both know you won’t let it rest until you’ve said what’s on your mind. So, what is it you wonder about?”
With a one-sided shrug, Connor tried to appear casual. “Knowing her parents, they’ll ship her off without hesitation. But if Gabby were put under someone’s supervision until the authorities decide what to do with her–someone who’d make sure she didn’t flee. Could she spend some more time with her son before going to prison then?”
Looking back over his shoulder, Connor saw Kier had drawn his eyebrows together. The muscles in his cheeks jumped, his mind working overtime. Then some dark, merciless thought flickered in his eyes.
Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to tell Kier that. After what Gabby must have been through with Talbot, a man as bent on revenge as Kieran was probably the last thing she needed.
But before he could devise a plan to remedy his mistake, movement caught his eye. A coach halted just outside and Connor felt his heartbeat pitch to a deafening staccato.
“Ahh,” he heard Kier say behind him. “There they are. Well, now is your last chance to run, Ronan.”
Connor jumped as Kier addressed him by his real name. He’d almost forgotten it, having used the other name for so long. It was strange, yet when Kier said it, it felt like he’d come home for real.
As for his last chance to run … No. His last chance to run was three weeks ago, before he ever met Jaidyn. Even if he’d wanted to, it was completely out of the question now. She’d snatched his heart away and without her he was nothing but a miserable man greedy for her presence, starving for her touch. Only Jaidyn made him complete.
The butler, Malory, if Connor remembered correctly, led them in, announcing them formally as “Mr. Flaherty and,” after a brief hesitation in which he seemed to have lost his voice, he introduced Jaidyn as “Mrs. Ronan O’Connor.”
When she stepped into the room, Connor’s mouth went dry as if someone had just poured a bucket of sand down his throat.
Her beauty was not merely stunning. Jaidyn was as blinding as the sun.
Head bent in modesty, her shoulders squared, her back straight, she demurely folded her hands in front of her as she stood just one step behind Neil, who seemed to burst with pride, his nose high up in the air.
Connor was rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink. All he could do was take in her appearance in stunned silence. Jaidyn wore her hair up. It was unusually tamed and a few strands had been forced into locks that played over her neck, evoking an immediate reaction in Connor. He asked himself what it would be like if it were his fingers and not those curls that skimmed her neck.
His gaze wandered down lower. Her sky-blue gown was open at the front. The slightly squared neckline was rimmed with white lace, as were the edges. The same frills lined the split sleeves at her elbow. Connor could see each one of those coquettish freckles he’d already kissed, but right that moment he was sure he must have missed one or two. Or more.
A matching dark blue ribbon, the same darker shade of blue as her petticoat, was laced over her stomacher. A choker with a sapphire-studded bow bobbed at her neck when she swallowed.
Jaidyn met his gaze and a blush crept up her décolletage. When it reached her cheeks, she broke eye contact and looked down, and her fingers played with the lace over her petticoat.
Realization struck him. She’d shed the role of the impetuous, wild, and bold woman as she’d slipped into the garments of this refined lady. Despite her sudden fussing, probably born out of irrational worries that Connor wouldn’t like what he saw, he knew right this moment he looked at the real Jaidyn. With every pore she exuded she was versed in society, probably used to soirees and balls every night.
Connor also knew her playful side, her illogical whims and her delicious sensuality. As far as he was concerned, his seafaring days were over if he could just see her like this all the time. Afterward, when they’d come home, tired from dancing and drunk from entertainment, she’d let her other side show. Just for him. And they’d seek amusement of an entirely different sort.
After a brief greeting, Kier took it upon himself to show them into the dining room. Connor could only follow, like a puppet whose limbs were attached to her. Jaidyn moved smoothly, elegantly, her hips swaying. She threw a coy smile back over her shoulder at him. Connor was too aroused to gawk.
Sweat beaded on his brow. He wanted her. Right here. Right now.
Well, maybe not with her father watching. Would it be rude if he just rushed up the stairs with Jaidyn in tow?
Dammit. For the first time since Kier’s manservant had talked him into it, Connor was glad for the hip-length waistcoat that hid his raging erection. How was he ever going to get through dinner? He hoped he wasn’t expected to participate in small talk because, quite honestly, he didn’t know if he was capable of more than monosyllabic replies. Or more likely subdued groans, because his hard cock was already incessantly throbbing like a bad tooth.
For Jaidyn it was utterly fascinating that Connor and his brother looked so much alike. At first she thought she would never be able to tell them apart, but gradually the differences between them showed. When Connor would laugh–well, tonight he seemed to be in an odd mood, but what she knew of him in general–Kieran would smirk at best, if he gave away any reaction at all. Jaidyn had a feeling that Kieran had just as much emotion boiling under the surface as his brother. He just disguised it well and preferred to draw his lips down into a constant, slight frown.
Kieran’s eyes were brighter too. Where Connor’s were a rich sapphire, Kieran’s were more a stormy light blue. He also wore his hair longer than Connor. But the easiest way to distinguish them was the small, thin scar on Kieran’s brow. Not for the first time that evening Jaidyn wondered where he’d got it.
When dessert was served in small ramekins, Kieran eyed the dish in front of him and gave an exaggerated gasp. “Cook has outdone himself, I see.”
“I’ll say!” Neil exclaimed, apparently totally enraptured. “Crème Anglaise. My, your French cook is truly exceptional.” Her father dug into the dessert as if there was no tomorrow.
Her father and Kieran were the only ones who spoke more t
han one sentence at a time. Out of politeness, Jaidyn tried her best to participate in the conversation, but it wasn’t easy for her. She didn’t know the men well, and the heavy silence wafting toward her from Connor, seated opposite of her, was rather depressing.
Connor seemed to not want to participate in the conversation at all. He only replied when spoken to directly and then he said very little–if he spoke at all. Mostly he only uttered a snort, or a grunt, for variation, she supposed.
Nervousness caused Jaidyn to feel a little queasy, but the aroma of caramelized sugar teased her nose no end. Well, the thing in the ramekin looked like burnt cream. It smelled like it and now, as she let the cold, vanilla-flavored cream melt on her tongue, she found it even tasted like burnt cream. Maybe the French name made it special.
She dared to glance in Connor’s direction. He stared into his ramekin, gripping the spoon so hard his knuckles paled. She grimaced as she saw the scrapes that marred his attractive hands.
His silence couldn’t distract from how exceptionally good-looking he was tonight. It wasn’t only the dark bistre coat with deep cuffs he wore over a mulberry- or cordovan-colored waistcoat. They were both lined with bands of the same gold embroidery. Clearly they had been tailored to match. Contrary to what she’d expected, Connor wore a white shirt tonight, lace ruffles spilling out at his wrists. His hair was mercilessly tied back with a black ribbon, and the formal ensemble, as she remembered from before they sat down at the table, was perfected with black breeches, white stockings, and black shoes with elaborate buckles.
His brother, Jaidyn thought as she threw another brief glance his way, liked lighter tones. He was mostly clad in gray. But Connor was ruggedly handsome in those dark tones that looked so excellent on him.
More often than not she did have difficulty following the conversation dominated by Kieran and her father. Her attention kept straying to when she’d finally be alone with Connor. The most shocking images kept popping up in her mind, so that sometimes she found it difficult to breathe.
Had he even noticed she’d taken so much care with her attire this evening? It was a special occasion. Very special. For Jaidyn, it was, in a way, her wedding night.
Maybe something had him worried. Perhaps he’d changed his mind and would rather be on his way? As bitter as it was, the proxy stated clearly that he wasn’t expected to be her husband but on paper. Those were the terms she’d insisted upon, as much as it pained her to admit it.
Maybe he finally read through the proxy and didn’t like what he’d gotten into. But she’d insisted on those terms when she hadn’t known who he was. Now each and every one of those terms was up for negotiation–for the fun of it. Frankly, Jaidyn thought they were null and void now that she had married the man of her dreams.
She’d said she loved him, but he hadn’t said it back. Although he’d wanted to marry her … it didn’t really count when he’d said it. His mind must have been addled. Jaidyn felt a pleasant shiver down her back and only just held back a low moan as she felt herself become moist just thinking of what they’d shared the moments before he’d proposed.
Jaidyn was torn out of her mulling when Kieran stood and bowed to her. “I’m afraid I have no sherry for the lady.”
Blinking a few times, Jaidyn forced her mind to start working again. “That’s quite all right. I should withdraw to the drawing room now.”
“Whatever for?” Kieran looked intrigued. Her father gaped at her. Connor’s features were arranged into an expression of boredom.
Jaidyn stood, checking her gown for wrinkles. “So that you gentlemen can be alone.”
Where could the drawing room be? She hated that she’d be confined in there and could only twiddle her thumbs until the men were done drinking and whatever it was they’d do.
“A laudable show of manners, indeed.” Kieran laughed. “Alas, there is no drawing room here in this house yet. So sit with us and have a glass of port.”
Under those circumstances she could hardly decline the offer. It would be impolite. Jaidyn gave him a smiling nod and they all made it to a room at the back that looked like a peculiar mix between a study and a sunroom.
Because of her wide skirts, Jaidyn could only sit sideways on the edge of one of the two leather armchairs. Her father sat in the other. When Kieran offered him a cigar from the box on the board next to the glasses and decanter, Neil gladly accepted.
Connor leaned casually against the wall opposite her, a little in the shadows. But Jaidyn could see the look of strained forbearance on his face.
Kieran held a glass of the garnet-colored wine out for her. She took it from him and sipped it. The port’s sweet aroma covered her tongue and throat like delicious, velvety honey. It didn’t take long until she felt a peculiar tingle spread from her fingertips and toes up into her body. The cloying smoke of Neil’s cigar started a buzz in her head. Jaidyn had to fight the strange impulse to giggle.
She didn’t think it was the port that affected her that much. Or not only. The looks Connor threw her way made her head light. His gaze was like a tender whisper over her skin at first. Soon Connor’s eyes turned smoldering, like the look a hungry predator would have. Jaidyn swallowed hard and tried to suppress her body’s instinctual response, but it was hard staving off the secret longing coursing through her veins. Her face flamed and Jaidyn coughed slightly to cover her telltale reaction.
“Would you like one more?”
Jaidyn’s ragged breathing pitched. She looked up to see Kieran waiting for a reply and she held up her glass to him. “Y–”
Connor stalked around Kieran and took the glass from her hand. Without taking his searing gaze off her, he handed the glass to his brother and took her hand in his. “I think she’s had enough.”
He pulled her hand close to his chest until her knuckles brushed the lapels of his coat. She thought she could feel his erratic heartbeat even through the layers of garments.
Automatically, Jaidyn stood on wobbly knees as the blood rushed through her veins. She forgot to breathe when his alluring scent and the entrancing heat he seemed to radiate sneaked under her skin, doubling the thrum of yearning in her core that was already too hard to ignore.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I shall retire for the evening.”
Jaidyn sucked in a deep breath and held it. All of a sudden she was nervous beyond reason.
She was about to exchange a few unnecessary, yet in polite society customary, phrases with her father and Kieran, but she never got a chance to. Not releasing her hand from his, Connor wrapped his other arm around her, his fingers splayed at the small of her back. He herded her out, up the stairs, and, Jaidyn supposed, into his room.
Well, their room now.
20
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Behind her, Jaidyn heard Connor close the door. When she looked back, she saw he was leaning against it, taking her in with the same devouring look he’d had downstairs. Anticipation had her tingling inside. All through dinner she’d thought about what was to come now.
Reaching for the ribbon at the front of her gown, she opened it as she turned to face him. His eyes were riveted to her hands as they worked to slowly reveal the corset underneath. Remaining where she stood, she let the gown gape, hooked her fingers into the edges of its neckline, and pulled it down. Catching the blue dress in her left hand, she placed it over the chair next to her.
Reaching back, she opened her petticoat and let it slip from her waist, all the while aware that the look she gave Connor was an unconcealed challenge.
His gaze darkened dangerously, but the hardness around his mouth spoke of his arousal. He seemed rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away from the door. By the way his jaw ticked, Jaidyn knew he was gritting his teeth, holding back.
“What is it? Don’t you want to … you know?”
Connor swallowed hard, but his voice still came out as a hoarse croak. “I–I don’t want to ruin that beautiful dress. Or your beautifu
l hair. Or … hurt you.”
“I see,” Jaidyn purred, letting her fingertips travel over her bosom, which was ruthlessly pushed up by the corset. Connor’s eyes hungrily followed their advance. She fought the knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Turning her back, she displayed the laces of the corset and sent him a deliberately coy glance over her shoulder. “Would you?”
At first she thought he hadn’t heard her or had simply chosen to ignore her. Then he took one hesitant step forward, and another, and another. When he was close enough to start working the laces, a battalion of butterflies started to buffet in her stomach.
Jaidyn was pushing him hard to his limit. The knowledge made her head light and the desire coiling in her belly pitch to a heavy pulsing.
When she felt the corset give way, she inhaled deeply. Connor took a step back again and moved around to face her. The way he watched her made her feel so very feminine and so very powerful that she felt like she was on the edge of falling.
Standing there in just her chemise, she reached for the lapels of his coat and went around him as he shrugged out of the garment. He had his hands balled into fists.
When she’d helped him out of his coat, she held it up in front of her like a shield so he wouldn’t see through the sheer shift. “Why don’t you just sit on the bed, then?”
Bringing her lips closer to his until Connor’s head dipped, she evaded his mouth and gave him a teasing, sensual smile instead. She shoved him back with her hand on his chest right over his heart, her fingers splayed. When his calves met the end of the bed, his knees buckled and Connor sat unceremoniously on the bed.
Kneeling before him, she helped him out of his shoes. Then she let her hands travel up his calves until her fingers arrived at the small buttons of his breeches at his knees. She slipped them through the holes, then hooked her fingers into the rim of his stockings and pulled them down.