by Gaelen Foley
“Both happen to be true.”
“Lily!” He tapped two fingertips irreverently on her cranium. “Think, girl! Use your head.”
“I beg your pardon!”
“Sell the damned place rather than sacrifice yourself for Lundy’s gold.”
“I can’t do that,” she answered wearily.
“Of course you can.”
“I am not going to be remembered as the Balfour who lost the ancestral estate. Besides—” She heaved a sigh. “The whole place is in such a state of disrepair, the truth is, I don’t think anyone would even want to buy it.”
“You don’t know that. Someone might—and if they don’t, then you can sell it to an architectural firm who’ll dismantle it and use the materials in new buildings. The proceeds could set you and your family up very nicely.”
“How’s that?”
“There are companies that tear down old buildings to harvest the parts,” he explained with a hurried glance past the gaudy red curtain veiling the alcove to make sure no one was coming. “They can re-use the brick or stone, tear out the chimneypieces to be installed in newer houses. They’ll take the paneling, wood beams, the old glass from the windows. It can all be re-used, and they’ll pay you quite handsomely for it—”
“Oh, how perfectly ghastly! Stop, please! No more.” She waved his words away like objectionable flies. “Balfour Manor is my home! It’s been in my family for three hundred years. I’d as soon hand over Grandfather’s corpse to the medical college for a dissection lecture than hand over my poor old house to be dismembered.”
“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I can see your point,” he muttered with a frown, folding his arms across his chest. “But we’re talking about your survival here. The hell with your dead ancestors. The past is dead and gone—you’re the one who’s alive now. You’re what matters. It’s absurd to willfully ruin your life for the sake of mere ghosts.”
She was shaking her head in exasperation. “Spoken like a true colonial. Burn the past. On with the future.”
“Better to burn the past than try to live in it!”
“Oh, you’re a fine one, aren’t you? You expect me to turn my back on my family? Yet you’re not exactly willing to walk away from what you hold dear. Maybe you should take your own advice. Let’s see you turn your back on your troops.”
“My men are human beings. Your house is an inanimate object. People are what matters, Lily. You’re what matters. God, why must you be so stubborn? Did it never occur to you, anyway, that once you’ve married Lundy, your possessions revert to your husband by law?” he pursued. “What’s to stop him from selling Balfour Manor out from under you once you’re wed? What if he doesn’t care to fund those roof repairs you mentioned? Did you ever think of that?”
“Of course I thought of that. Edward won’t sell Balfour Manor because he knows full well that all his gold can’t buy the prestige of an ancient family history like ours. What do you think he’s marrying me for?”
Derek let his stare travel down, meaningfully, over her too-tempting curves. “I can hardly guess,” he murmured.
“He’s desperate to better his station in life,” she explained, ignoring his lascivious perusal. “Besides, he has no reason to sell Balfour Manor. It’s not as though he needs the money—and anyway, I shall have a solicitor draw up the papers to make sure Edward won’t be able to sell my house even if he wanted to. Just in case.”
“Aha! You see?” Derek pointed out at once, moving closer and seizing on her words. “You don’t really trust him any more than I do! That is the heart of the problem, Lily. I don’t trust this man. There—I’ve said it. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I don’t trust him with you, and it’s driving me mad. I need to know that you’ll be safe!”
“Oh, Derek.” His low-toned outburst appeared to have surprised her. With a tender wince, she reached up and gently tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I could think of a few things,” he murmured, loving her touch. He captured her hand and pressed a light kiss to her wrist. “Has he asked you yet? Are you engaged?”
“No,” she admitted with a look of chagrin. “What about you—any word from your commander?”
“No.” He sighed and released her hand from his light hold. “It would seem that both our boats are becalmed,” he said dryly, then gave her an ironic half-smile. “Perhaps the only way we shall ever escape our doldrums will be to chart a new course. Change the set of our sails.”
“To what new port?” she murmured, smiling faintly as she played along.
“Lord only knows where the wind could take us.” An idea suddenly dawned. “A storm of scandal might be just the thing! A good wild gale of gossip ought to blow us out of here.” He lifted his eyebrow and sent her a devilish glance. “How many hundred guests are here today?”
“Don’t you dare,” she warned, backing up a bit.
“Oh, but it would be so easy, so efficient.” He moved closer, caressing her arms. “I could ruin you right now, you know. Save you from yourself. I should do it, too, to stop you from this madness.”
“Oh, yes, a capital idea,” she replied, matching his sardonic tone with a wary gleam in her eyes. “Sorry, Major, but having met your brother and especially your sire, I’m very sure that if you stooped to ruin, they would force you to marry me—and then the joke would be on you.”
“Maybe it isn’t a joke.” He looked at her suddenly. “Shall I do it? Shall I force you into marrying me?”
She lifted her eyebrows in astonishment. “Derek! You didn’t just ask me to marry you—?”
“Well, no! Not like that. I mean—” What do I mean? He faltered, taken off guard by this sudden impulse. “I’m-I’m only trying to be helpful.”
She tilted her head, studying him with a dubious look.
His heart was pounding. He glanced away with a one-shouldered shrug, trying to play it off. “It would get us what we both desire,” he pointed out.
“Right,” she murmured, eyeing him in suspicion, as if she was onto his tricks. “If you married me, then you’d have to go back to India, and plunge yourself into all the gory joys of warfare until your soul was gone. Meanwhile, you’d be sending all the gold you had won back home to me, so that I could keep my estate intact, and maybe, just maybe, one day, finally win my mother’s approbation.”
He went very still and slid her a wary look. “So, that’s what this is all about.”
It was the first he’d heard about her mother, but the moment she said it, so many unexplained details about her suddenly fell into place.
He was glad for the change of topic, relieved that it was her turn to be embarrassed. She had turned away, looking sheepish after having blurted out her careless admission; her creamy cheeks were turning red.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbled. “It wasn’t respectful.”
“Don’t worry. Your mother’s not here, and I promise I won’t tell on you. Besides,” he confided in a low tone, leaning closer to whisper in her ear, “I had one of those kinds of mothers, too.”
“You did?” She looked at him in surprise.
“Lily,” he said slowly as he cupped her cheek, “anyone who doesn’t love you is a fool. Especially your mother. And that goes for Lundy, too.”
“What about you, Major?” she asked barely audibly, with a daring lift of her chin. She gazed into his eyes. “Does that apply to you, as well?”
“I’m no fool,” he breathed.
The sweet, anguished longing that he read in the lavender-blue depths of her eyes mirrored the burning need that throbbed inside of him.
He gripped her shoulders, closing his eyes briefly, unable to bear another moment of denial. “God—that’s it—I can’t let you do this. I’m going to make a scandal of us that will rock the ton to its foundations and shake you free of this damned prison you’ve put yourself in—”
“No! Don’t you dare do it!” Her cheeks were fl
ushed with passion as she planted her hand on his chest and blocked him. “I won’t marry you!”
“Why?” he demanded in outrage.
“Because the only way we could afford it is if you either go to your family to help us, or return to India to fight. The former I know you will not do—and the latter I cannot bear for you to do! Not when I’ve seen for myself the damage it’s already done to your heart.”
“I would do it for you,” he whispered, aching for her.
She cupped his jaw and said with the most earnest gaze, “But I would never let you.”
They stared at each other as time seemed to drop to a halt.
He couldn’t help smiling at her, haphazardly. “What, you’re going to protect me, then?” he murmured ruefully. This mere slip of a girl protecting him? It was the silliest, most adorable thing he had ever heard.
But something had registered in her eyes in answer to his question, as though his words had reminded her of some pressing fact. She lowered her hand from his cheek. “Look, Derek—I don’t know why you came into the house today, and frankly, I don’t think I want to know. But as for the reason I came in, well, I should probably warn you that…Edward bade me follow you.”
“Well, now,” he murmured, pausing to absorb this. “That was very foolish of him.”
Though his heart sank a little and his male vanity smarted to hear that she had not pursued him of her own accord, preferably for amorous reasons, he appreciated the information—and his hunger for her was undaunted.
He ran his fingertip slowly down her chest. “Old Edward should’ve had a care for what might happen to his little spy if she were caught.”
Lily shivered, her blue eyes darkening in answer to the searing awareness between them.
They had managed to resist it in the stable. But now it was just too strong. He could feel their mutual resistance failing, like a boulder rolling down a mountainside, faster and faster, gathering power, force, and speed.
Their separation had only sharpened their hunger for each other. He saw it in her eyes, and felt it in his blood. He bent his head slowly and pressed his lips to the curve of her neck.
Her whole body quivered with the most thrilling response. “Oh, God, please. Derek—don’t. I want you so much. Don’t compromise my reputation. It’s all I have.” She had gripped his shoulder, but he couldn’t tell if she was trying to pull him closer or push him away. “I can’t bear a scandal. I can’t,” she whispered almost frantically.
“Shh,” he hushed her, unsettled by the near panic in her voice. God knew he did not wish to upset her.
Though it cost him a heroic effort to release her when his instincts told him that with a bit more effort, she’d be putty in his hands, he did just that.
He lowered his hands to his sides and took a slow step backward. “As you wish, Lily.” Her trust was the most important thing. “I would never harm you or ignore your feelings or do anything to make you feel coerced.” He swallowed hard, and added, “I’m not Edward.”
“No, you’re not,” she echoed with a trace of bitterness in her breathy tone. “Would that you were.”
“Well, go on,” he said with a small nod toward the corridor. “Go on back to him. I shan’t stop you.”
She slanted him a wounded look.
Derek’s pulse thundered as he held her in his gaze.
She made no move to go.
“But…if you want to stay,” he added slowly, “you already know that I can be discreet. If this is all that I can have with you, I’ll take it.”
She stared at him with eyes of blue flame, and then she was moving toward him, reaching for him. She grasped the lapel of his jacket and hauled him to her suddenly. He went to her like a slave in her thrall; she curled her hand around his nape and pulled him down to kiss her in fevered desperation. He complied with swift and total willingness, starved for her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rose on her toes a bit, and captured his mouth with a furious hunger that burned up his senses and melted all his wits. He caressed her, astounded by the explosive passion that came pouring out of the girl.
She cupped his jaw as she consumed his tongue in scorching intensity, clearly wanting, needing this as badly as he did. Derek groaned, tightening his hold around her slim waist.
Fighting this was futile. In this moment, there were no answers, there was only need, desire overwhelming all the reasons they both had to stay away from each other.
Passion took over. Want poured through him as they gave in to burning temptation. Her hands were all over him, and it was glorious.
Derek knew it was also insanity. Lundy had sent her and was waiting for her now. For God’s sake, they were in the man’s house. But she excited him so deeply that he was past caring. The despair of knowing she would never truly be his lent an edge of crazed urgency to their every touch.
With a quick glance out of the alcove to make sure the coast was clear, Derek spotted the next door just a couple of yards down the hallway. He began shepherding her toward it, never breaking their kiss. It led to a darkened parlor, a fact he had discovered a short while ago in his search for Edward’s study.
He opened the door behind her and began pressing Lily into the room, his heart slamming in his chest. She stumbled along with him, eager to go as he backed her into the dim parlor, where the shades were drawn against the daylight.
Derek locked the door.
They crashed into the furniture, tearing at each other’s clothes as they crossed the room, tangled in a blind frenzy of desire. His member throbbed like it would burst from his clothing as he pressed her down onto the wide, round ottoman. Sinking onto his knees before her, he nearly hesitated—and he was stunned by the unexpected depth of his reverence for her. He almost trembled to touch her, but her soft moan reaffirmed her need for him, and smoothly he lifted her skirts.
She fell back on her hands on the plush velvet ottoman, watching him as he kissed her chest all over and nuzzled her round, lovely breasts through the tight, tailored bodice of her gown. “You are so beautiful. Every inch of you.” All the while, he caressed her fine legs and sleek hips beneath the voluminous folds of fabric, her skirts and petticoats hitched up around her thighs.
“Ah.” She tipped her head back, reveling in his attentions. Her porcelain skin was flushed, her lips swollen and luscious pink from his kiss.
Staring at her in wonder, he bent lower and kissed her knee. A light, breathless laugh escaped her as he skimmed his lips slowly up her milky limb.
He left a love bite on the soft flesh of her inner thigh where only she would see it. It would fade in a few days, but till then, just a little something to remember him by. Then he touched her dewy core with his fingertip, reverently parting the delicate blond curls that veiled her womanhood.
His tender caress coaxed a restless sigh from her lips. Derek trembled, catching her scent. He moved closer, drawn by the warm, musky fragrance. Inhaling the natural perfume of her readiness for him drove him absolutely wild.
He dug his fingers into the yielding flesh of her hips, overcome by lascivious joy. Spreading her thighs wider, he bent his head and tasted her. She gasped the moment his mouth touched her. She was smooth and sweet and pebble-hard as he ran his tongue over and around her fiery center, plying her sweet core with kisses of the most artful variety. Drinking her in, he caressed her silky body again and again, adoring her innocence and losing himself in the bliss of devouring her.
Her sighs and soft moans and every rise and undulation of her hips told him just how she wished him to proceed. He made it his business to give exactly what she wanted. As he traced her hardened jewel with the tip of his tongue, gently, patiently licking away her inhibitions, he draped her elegant thigh over his shoulder, opening her more deeply for his thrusting tongue.
Before long, the last vestiges of her little ice-queen façade had melted away; she flowed wet and warm for him like a crystal-pure stream, and he drank deeply, exhilarated by each sinuous wave of her body
rising to meet his kisses.
He yearned to possess her, to make every inch of her his, from her delicate toes to the tips of her ladylike fingers and the silken waves of her cool blond hair. But he doubted that would be permissible until after she was wed.
He could hardly bear to think of it and blocked it from his mind as her moans built in volume. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, his back. “Oh, Derek!” When he brought her to climax, her release was so deep that her nectar flowed onto his tongue. A swallow of it gave him ecstasy.
Before long, she lay back across the ottoman with a luxuriant stretch, then let out a soft, breathless laugh.
The breathless music of her satisfaction tickled his brain. He watched her, smiling darkly. Still on his knees in front of her, he fixed her skirts for her, making his darling lady neat and tidy once again.
“Oh, Derek. That was so unbelievably wonderful. Mm, I never imagined such splendid things.”
“Still want to marry Edward?”
Drowsy laughter tumbled from her lips as she languished in the aftermath of pleasure. “You are impossible,” she purred in a tone of utter feminine satiety.
“And you’re beautiful,” he murmured, gazing at her, and stroking her arm.
“Oh, we shouldn’t be here, should we? I suppose we are both very bad.”
“You, never. Me, perhaps. But nobody’s chaining you here, if that’s how you feel.”
She came up on her elbows and slanted him an indignant look at his irreverent tone.
“There’s the door.” Then he smiled wickedly at her. “We both know you don’t want to use it.”
With a mild scowl, she heaved herself up to a seated position and draped her arms lazily around his neck, giving him a little chiding pout. “And here I thought we said good-bye last week.”
“So did I. Yet somehow, here we are again. There doesn’t seem to be much point in fighting it.”
“No.” She petted him, doting on him, apparently unaware of the lust still raging in his blood.