STOLEN HEARTS

by Michelle Martin

  Her hands swept to the back of his head, pulling him down until her mouth claimed his, ravenous, demanding, her tongue thrusting into him as he thrust into her. A primitive force held her in thrall. It burned away the last threads of her control, stripped away any remnants of civilization. It seemed to go on forever, and for just a moment. It was like nothing she had ever known. It was everything she had ever wanted.

  Ruthlessly she rolled Luke onto his back so that she was on top of him, riding this incredible wave of tension and pleasure that only grew as she pulled him deeper into her, moaning as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroking her engorged nipples over and over again.

  She was burning up. She was dying. She was flying past the moon.

  "Come with me," Tess demanded, arching, pulling Luke into the very core of her being.

  Time stopped. Then a tidal wave slammed into them. They both cried out, gasping, shuddering in each other's arms as they were tumbled over and over in the waves, clinging to each other, their hearts pounding as one. Their ragged cries grew softer. The waves pushed them gently together, lapping against them.

  Luke's heart was a steady, life-giving drum beneath her cheek.

  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  « ^ »

  Tess woke with the morning sunlight trying to push its way through the curtains. The first thing she realized was that, although she had slept, there had been no nightmares. She gazed down lovingly at the man sleeping beside her. He had definitely found a way to banish bad dreams.

  They were lying on their sides, facing each other, Luke's arm thrown possessively over her hip. If she shifted even fractionally, his arm would automatically tighten, holding her close. Tess smiled. She liked Luke being so possessive. She liked this feeling of trust that had warmed her all night long as they had slept together for the first time.

  What had she told Jane Wednesday night? That she didn't know who she was? Well, she did now. She was a lover of art, emeralds, and Luke Mansfield. She was, it turned out, hopelessly romantic and amazingly old-fashioned when it came to love and marriage. And she liked it that way.

  Tess could not remember ever feeling so good. It was impossible that anything that had come before could make her this happy, this secure, this downright ecstatic. This man—this gorgeous, loving, intelligent, funny, sexy man—wanted to marry her, in fact intended to marry her no matter how often she got cold feet.

  And she had agreed. She had actually said yes!

  Marry Luke Mansfield. What a crazy, dangerous, imperative thing to do. It couldn't be a trap. Not even Luke would go this far. No, this was real and true and she was feeling downright giddy.

  Her world had been turned upside down. It was amazing to Tess how much her life had changed in only two weeks. From con artist to married lady … well, engaged lady, but she'd be a married lady soon if she had anything to say about it. She liked waking up in Luke's arms in the morning. She'd brave every fear within her to continue such pleasure.

  And yet… And yet and yet and yet, the truth of why she was in this house would come out. It had to. And Luke would hate her then. As Tess had been hating herself from the moment she had first walked through the Cushman front door. She had deceived and used the people she loved for her own ends. How could they forgive her that?

  She had to protect them from the truth. She had to protect her own heart. But how?

  She searched desperately for something, anything, that would help her now. Luke's arm tightened around her and her heart opened like a blooming flower. She had her answer.

  Maybe… Maybe she could become Elizabeth! They already believed her to be Elizabeth. They had said so. Jane needed an heir, Luke wanted a wife, Tess longed for a family. Maybe… Tess began to tremble. Maybe it would work. Maybe her love could create a new life for herself.

  Her mind exploded with the future she could claim. Jane would not be hurt, Luke would never know the shameful truth, and she would have their love. They would have hers. A hundredfold. She could do it! She could turn fantasy into reality. She could have the family she had always longed for.

  The idea left her dizzy, exhilarated, terrified.

  Then she realized that Luke's eyes were open and gazing woozily at her. Oh yes. She would do whatever it took to wake up every morning for the rest of her life in this man's arms.

  "Good morning," she said, her lips warm on his for a moment and then she pulled away. "Would Monsieur like one or two bowls of Wheaties this morning?"

  Chuckling, Luke rolled them over so that he was on his back, Tess lying on top of him. "I would rather have you for breakfast," he said, his teeth grazing her shoulder.

  "No, no, no!" Tess said in her French accent. "The affianced bride is not on the menu this morning, monsieur. You had her for a midnight snack, if you will recall."

  "Oh, I do," Luke blithely assured her, "intimately. But not only am I still hungry, I'm addicted. I have to have all of you, always."

  Tess felt her happiness explode into a one-million-kilowatt glow. "I think," she murmured in her own voice, "that that can be arranged." She slowly slid down the length of his body, kissing, biting, licking her way down, pushing the comforter back as she went. "As it happens, I've become a raving addict myself."

  "Glad to hear it," Luke gasped.

  "Today," Tess said solemnly, looking up at him, "is the first day of the rest of our lives."

  Luke groaned. "Platitudes at dawn! What have I done?"

  Tess smiled a very wicked smile. "I'm about to show you."

  Then she saw the clock on the bedside table. "Oh no!" she cried, pushing herself off both Luke and the bed.

  "Hey!" Luke lunged for her, but missed. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded as Tess hurriedly gathered up her dress.

  "It's nearly seven. People will be out and about soon." It was a good excuse. Mostly, she was worried about Bert's henchmen being out and about. She wanted them reporting none of her extracurricular activities to Bert. He had already made his disapproval clear.

  "So?"

  "So, I can't very well creep back to my room in this state with people watching me from every doorway, can I?"

  "I like your state."

  "Thank you. Where did you toss my … um … panties?"

  Luke clasped his hands behind his head and failed to look innocent. "Hm?"

  "Luke Mansfield, where are my panties?"

  He leaned over the bed, snagged a black scrap with his index finger and lifted it into the air. "You mean these?"

  "Yes, thank you. Luke!"

  He had placed the black satin under his pillow, which he plumped. He then resumed his former position. "Hm?"

  "Luke, hand them over. Now!"

  Luke smiled a very friendly smile. "You'll have to come get them yourself."

  "Oh, sure," Tess scoffed, arms akimbo, "and end up in bed for the next fifty years. I am not that gullible. Hand them over. I cannot saunter down the hallway without my panties."

  "Why not? Your very delectable derriere will be covered by that scandalous dress. Who's to know of the absence or presence of undergarments?"

  "I'll know. Hand them over."

  "Uh-uh."

  "Knowing a little of my history, Luke Mansfield, you should not be toying with my tendency for revenge."

  Luke took his time considering this threat, then sighed and tossed her the scrap of black satin.

  "Thank you," Tess said, beginning to dress.

  "There must be better ways to thank me."

  "Undoubtedly. But none of them would get me out of this room before noon, and I do not want the thirty people who spent the night in this house to know that we're … um … involved. I have enough questions to answer as it is."

  "All right," Luke said, sitting up and running a hand through his rumpled hair. "The engagement is hush-hush until Jane's guests leave. But that doesn't mean—"

  "Yes, it does," Tess said, stepping into her shoes. "No reports of lust from this quarter, if you p
lease."

  "Hell," Luke muttered.

  Tess blew him a kiss, opened the door, checked left and right, and then scurried to her room, only breathing when she had closed her bedroom door behind her.

  Standing in the middle of her bedroom, she stared at nothing, just feeling the glow that had been ignited last night. It warmed her skin and her heart. With a happy sigh, she began to strip off the clothes she had so recently put on. She would have to see to it that she never again had to leave Luke in the lurch, because it left her in the lurch as well and, although they had made love for hours and hours the night before, Tess found that she wanted more. Needed more. She could have happily spent the day in bed with him, and the night, and the next day…

  "Hell," she muttered, striding into her bathroom.

  She turned the shower on scalding and then stood under the water, letting it pour over her body which recalled in every nerve, every muscle, every inch of skin the love she had received and expressed the night before.

  Then the shower door opened and Tess was no longer alone.

  "Excuse me," she said with the greatest dignity, holding her soaked hair away from her eyes, "what are you doing here?"

  "Finishing what you began, and fulfilling a little fantasy of my own," Luke replied as he pulled her against his naked, aroused body.

  Tess gasped at the contact, her body flooding with heat. "M-m-most household accidents occur in the bath, you know."

  "Really?" Luke said, his hands sliding over her slippery skin. "How interesting." His mouth covered the pulse at the base of her throat and sucked gently.

  "W-w-we shouldn't," Tess said, although her hands were already stroking him.

  Luke's fingers slid against the slippery center of her own need. "You're in no state to protest," he murmured.

  "I—I—I know! Luke, please, I can't wait. I can't—"

  "So ready for me," Luke marveled, his fingers intimately caressing her as he pressed her back against the shower wall. Both arms supporting her trembling body, he suddenly thrust up into her, Tess muffling her cry as her teeth sank into his shoulder, Luke's ragged moan mingling with the pounding hot water.

  An hour later, they were showered, shampooed, dried, dressed in appropriate attire, and grinning at each other.

  "You go first," Luke said. "It will look less suspicious that way."

  "Me go first?" Tess said. "Anyone with half an eye would see that I can barely stand. You go first and let me have a minute to get my strength back."

  "We could go down together."

  "Brilliant," Tess said. "Our hair is damp, our skin is flushed, our eyes are glowing. Even a nun could figure out what was going on."

  "All right, all right," Luke said. "I'll go first."

  "Get that self-satisfied smirk off your face first."

  Luke sighed heavily. "A night and morning of rapture and I have to act like I haven't enjoyed anything more exciting than a game of Scrabble. This is not the way I planned to spend our engagement."

  "I know how you planned to spend our engagement and we'll discuss it later," Tess said firmly. "Now out!"

  Luke salaamed his way to the bedroom door, opened it, looked left and right, threw her a lazy salute, and then sauntered into the hallway. Tess, whose legs felt like half-melted gelatin, collapsed onto her bed and concentrated on removing the flush from her skin and the glow from her eyes.

  Ten minutes later she walked downstairs, outwardly calm, inwardly glowing, and into the main dining room to find a huge breakfast buffet set up on tables that lined all four walls. Discovering that she was famished, she piled a plate with enough food to feed two lumberjacks—and their progeny—and then went in search of the glow maker.

  There weren't many people out and about yet, but Luke wasn't among those loitering on the back terrace. She checked two parlors and the living room before she found him all alone in the Belle Epoque salon, seated at the chess table, his breakfast before him.

  "Eating for two?" he asked with a leer as he waved a fork at her overburdened plate. "We never managed to find a means of protection last night, or this morning, you know."

  "I am refueling my badly depleted stores of energy," Tess loftily retorted as she walked to his side, "and I don't need to protect myself from anything you and I might create. Luke!" she screeched as her affianced husband pulled her down onto his lap. "Be careful, my breakfast!"

  "Damn your breakfast," Luke muttered just before his mouth captured hers in a long kiss that turned Tess's legs to gelatin once again.

  "Should I be shocked?" Jane politely inquired from the doorway.

  Tess cringed.

  "Morning, Jane," Luke called, one arm holding Tess firmly on his lap when she surreptitiously tried to escape. "How are you feeling after last night's revels?"

  "Oh, I'm in fine fettle," Jane replied, her pale blue eyes gleaming as she gazed at Tess and Luke. "You two disappeared rather early, I thought."

  "Tess and I spent hours wrestling with our … future," Luke gravely replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as Tess's blush deepened. "I am happy to report, Jane, that I have been able to make good on my promise to you. Truth, justice, and the American way won out. Tess and I are getting married."

  "Well, that's marvelous!" Jane exclaimed to Tess's utter surprise. "And about time, too. When is the happy day?"

  "We haven't really talked about it yet," Luke said. "I figure three days for the blood test or three hours for the flight to Vegas if my patience can't hold out."

  "Very sound thinking," Jane said, beaming at Tess. "I couldn't be happier for you, dear."

  "Thank you, Jane," Tess said, her eyes filling with tears as she realized in that moment just how much she loved the older woman. "That means a lot to me."

  "If you can stand to wait three days," Jane said, "I'd very much like it if you could be married here. This old house needs a good dose of love and gaiety."

  "Oh Jane…" Tess said.

  "My dear, I insist," Jane said, cupping her face and smiling down at her. "Now you two eat your breakfast and we'll talk some more after I return from church."

  "Jane!" Tess called. "The engagement is a secret until tomorrow."

  "Yes, dear," Jane said with a smile, and then she was gone.

  Tess glared at Luke. "Just when, exactly, did you promise Jane you'd marry me?"

  "Wednesday. I'd have promised her sooner than that, but she never asked."

  Tess sighed, slid off Luke's lap, and took the chair opposite him, setting her plate down on the marble chess board. "Are lawyers always so sure of themselves?"

  "Not at all. I was just sure of you."

  "Just because I'm putty in your hands is no reason to get cocky."

  "You want to rephrase that?"

  Tess groaned and buried her face in her hands. "It wouldn't help."

  As they turned to the breakfasts before them, other guests entered the salon, cheerfully greeting them as they took the other chairs in the room to eat their breakfasts, occasionally calling out a comment to the pair, but generally leaving them alone. Luke watched as Tess slowly, and methodically, cleaned her plate.

  "That was impossible," he said as she finally leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh.

  "I told you I was rebuilding my strength."

  "No woman can eat that amount of food and live."

  "My energy reserves were depleted. You're the one with the high testosterone level, so don't go chastising my appetite."

  Luke's eyebrows shot up. "My, the double entendres are flying fast and thick this morning."

  "Don't be mean," Tess said, sinking lower into her chair as her blush climbed higher into her cheeks. "I've never been engaged before. Everything's coming out wrong."

  "I wouldn't say that," Luke said with a grin.

  "Sadist."

  Laughing, Luke rose, caught her hand in his, pulled her to her feet, and together they walked outside to take in the fresh air and sunshine.

  Tess had only just recov
ered her equilibrium, when Hodgkins approached with chilly formality to announce that Dr. Weinstein had come to call. Hodgkins had placed the doctor in the morning parlor, he hoped Miss Cushman approved.

  "I'll come with you," Luke said.

  "No, it's not necessary."

  Luke held her hand firmly in his. "It's necessary to me. I can't bear having you out of my sight."

  Tess was too dazed by this declaration to think of any sort of argument.

  They entered the morning parlor arm in arm to find Bert, dressed as Max Weinstein, glasses and leonine wig firmly in place, standing beside a window that looked out over the front drive.

  "Hello, Max," Tess said cheerfully. "Welcome back from Seattle."

  Bert turned and beamed at Tess, his face betraying no surprise at seeing Luke by her side. "Tess, I saw the morning papers. I couldn't believe it! Why didn't you call and tell me?"

  "Jane sprang the whole thing on me Wednesday night, Max, and you were out of town."

  "I am so very pleased for you, Tess," Bert said, taking her hand in his. "Certainly I am happy that Mrs. Cushman has found her granddaughter again. But you, Tess, do you truly believe now that you are Elizabeth?"

  "I haven't got much choice, Max. The proof is kind of overwhelming."

  "She put up a good fight," Luke said, "but we were able to convince her in the end. Jane and I … owe you a great deal, Dr. Weinstein."

  "Ah, Mr. Mansfield," Bert said. "If you are convinced of my patient's true identity, then I know I need not worry."

  "Good of you," Luke said.

  "It's all been so crazy, Max," Tess said quickly to cover Luke's tension. What on earth was wrong with the man? "I feel like I've met half the state of New York this weekend. Jane … I mean my grandmother, is introducing me to everyone. Oh, and she wants me to sign some legal papers tomorrow that Luke's office is drawing up. She's making a new will for herself and she's transferring some of Eliz … I mean my inheritance over to me immediately. Do you think you could drop by afterward, say around two, to help me celebrate? I was thinking along the lines of magnums of champagne."

  Bert smiled a pleased, silky smile. "I would be honored, Tess, although I'm not much of a one for drinking. I'd be happy to raise a glass of champagne in your honor."