A Touch of Passion_A Rouge Regency Romance

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A Touch of Passion_A Rouge Regency Romance Page 17

by Bronwen Evans


  “Well, what name is that?” she asked Arend.

  “He won’t tell us her name until he has your money. I can, of course, beat it out of him, but you forbade that tactic. Personally, I think he’s full of—”

  “That’s enough, Arend,” Grayson interrupted. “He admitted he didn’t have the resources to inquire further. We do. All we need is a starting point, so Portia’s plan is sound. If we try to beat it out of him, he’ll likely lie just to taunt us. You admitted knowing her name would be the lead you have been searching for.”

  “Thanks to Portia, we have the chance to at last learn something of note,” Maitland said, and once again brought her hand to his lips.

  Grayson pushed back his chair and rose. “We shouldn’t dally; I don’t like leaving Weston unguarded for long. Maitland, may I have a word with you outside?” He nodded to Portia as he left, and she was delighted to see he was not in a good mood.

  Maitland winked at her as he followed Grayson out. Unfortunately, Arend caught sight of it. He waited for Maitland to close the door after him before turning to Portia.

  “It is a dangerous game you play. Grayson and Maitland have been friends for many years. I would hate to see a woman come between them.”

  There was something about Arend that set the hairs on her arms rising. He could intimidate with one look from deep within those cold, hard eyes. “I would not let that happen,” she assured him. At Arend’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Besides, this is His Grace’s idea.”

  He rose until he towered over her. “I would advise you to tell Maitland to halt this charade before someone gets hurt. Grayson has demons he must face, and forcing him to acknowledge them before he’s ready may see Maitland’s good intentions come back to kick him in the arse.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And you may find yourself married to His Grace. I know that is not what you desire. Think about your actions. What will you do if Grayson calls your bluff and lets you go?”

  “I know the demons he faces. He’s scared of losing those he loves. I have no intention of leaving this earth anytime soon.”

  “And yet there is an assassin set on killing you and framing Grayson. If she succeeds and you die, Grayson will blame himself. He’s already full of guilt over Robert’s death and Christian’s burns. His grief over you will be much worse because of his promise to Robert. Why try to force his feelings when the future is still uncertain?” He looked away in disgust. “It’s selfish, and Maitland should know better. If you push him, Grayson may let you go. He couldn’t bear it if he lost you either to death or to Maitland. To save himself from hurt he may simply walk away if you’re not careful.”

  Portia felt like a child being scolded by her father, yet Arend was only a few years older than her. What hurt the most and caused her acute embarrassment was that he was right. Forcing Grayson to reveal his feelings was not sensible given their circumstances. If the villain was successful in hurting her, it would cause Grayson’s heart to wither and die for good. “I shall instruct Maitland to halt his plan. I don’t want to hurt Grayson, or anyone else.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Arend moved around the table and handed her his handkerchief. “I’m sorry for being blunt, but I care for my friends. Have faith in Grayson. I think you’ll find his stance may have altered somewhat. Did you know he thought Robert was opposed to a match?”

  “He mentioned that Robert told him we were not suited. However, there must be another reason Robert objected to a match. Perhaps Grayson was mistaken and heard only what he wished to hear … because he doesn’t want me but preferred to spare my feelings.”

  “I’m not sure he knows what he wants.” Arend placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “He’s held back because he thought that was what Robert wanted. I recently pointed out that Robert obviously hoped for a match or he would not have asked Grayson to take care of you. Why would he, when you have four other brothers to ensure your well-being? Come, let us join the men,” he said, and offered her his arm.

  Once in the courtyard, Arend called to Grayson, “I’d like Maitland to ride with me so we can discuss our situation.”

  Maitland was about to protest, so Portia spoke up. “I’d like a word with Grayson, if you don’t mind, Maitland.”

  Maitland stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish, my dear.”

  Grayson offered no opinion, but helped her into the carriage. They sat together in silence until the carriage left the coaching inn. She was wondering how to broach the subject of their relationship when Grayson suddenly turned on her and said, “You can’t be serious about Maitland as an alternative. The man is my friend, but it must be obvious that he’s as cool as an iceberg. For a woman who wants love, that makes no sense.”

  “I don’t want love from him. I merely want to protect my family from further scandal.”

  He moved to sit beside her, and as it always did her body reacted. Her pulse raced and her mouth became dry as she watched Grayson run a hand through his glossy curls. “So you’d marry a man you don’t love? Do you desire him, then? He is a fine figure of a man.”

  “He is attractive.” She heard Grayson’s curse a moment before she found herself in his arms, his mouth plundering hers, and her body flared to life. Her hands rose to sink into his hair, and her body pressed closer to his. His tongue swept her mouth possessively and a groan rumbled deep in his chest.

  The kiss went on and on, and she couldn’t remember being pushed down onto the seat of the carriage, but suddenly he was on top of her, his hands under her skirts, fingers tracing a line up her thigh to stroke the wetness between her thighs.

  He suddenly drew back, and they stared at each other for a moment. “Can he make you wet with one look, one touch?” he finally asked. “Can he ignite the fires of desire that are sparking in your eyes?”

  “No,” she whispered. “Only you. It’s always only been you.”

  Chapter 13

  “God, Portia. I want you. I’ve tried not to—” She hushed Grayson’s anguished words with her mouth, while her hands fumbled with the fall of his trousers.

  His hands found the hooks on the back of her gown, and soon he’d freed her breasts by pulling down her chemise. His mouth clamped over one nipple and suckled. She arched into him, wishing for more. She freed his erection and gripped him tightly. His hand moved between her legs, parted her curls, and stroked. Her thoughts derailed as he plunged a long finger inside her while circling his thumb over her hardened nub, releasing agonizing pleasure. Her hips lifted of their own accord, and she called his name. He moved his mouth to her other breast, and with one tug on that nipple she splintered.

  Her scream was muffled as he quickly captured her lips, kissing her in time to the fingers that continued to torment her between her legs.

  She lay back, panting and nearly delirious. “I need you inside me,” she murmured against his ear. His hand flew out from under her skirts and he urgently pulled her up, positioning her astride his knees. He lifted her and thrust upward as he lowered her upon his turgid member. He did not give her time to adjust to his invasion before lifting her again and thrusting deep within her, over and over.

  His lips left hers and created a wake of scalding heat as he licked down her breasts, slipping one taut nipple into his mouth. She moaned into the dimness of the coach.

  Soon she took over, riding him hard. She felt stretched, wonderfully full, and all too soon the sensations gripped her as he continued his powerful lunging. The sweetest pleasure she had ever experienced spiraled deep inside. She swallowed at the dark sensuality marking his features. Portia cupped his face with her hands, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his. Using her legs, she gripped his hips tighter and rode him hard. She watched him grit his teeth and groan.

  “Grayson,” she whispered in his ear. He thrust higher, and her moan was an entreaty to fill her. They were as one in their passion. She wished the same could be said for the rest of their relationship, but Grayson would not let her in—only her body.
Only when they joined physically did they truly talk to each other, calling to each other’s strengths and healing the hurts.

  His lips sought hers, capturing them, and he claimed her tongue in a dominant foray as he urgently thrust higher and harder. The pleasure he gave had her bucking and moaning as she met him thrust for thrust.

  Soon she could not contain her moans. Her legs gripped tighter as she rose higher and plunged down faster. His hands held her hips so tightly she could feel his fingers digging into her skin through the layers of clothing.

  When he used his thumb to press down on her hardened nub she screamed as the pleasure roared through her, fierce and sweet, and she exploded in delight. Grayson’s harsh groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating into her heart as she lay slumped in his arms. He kissed her, plunging with increased power and speed until the pleasure overtook him too.

  After a moment, she kissed his cheek as he sat breathing heavily with his head back and his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me we are not suited, Grayson Devlin. That was perfect.”

  Her words elicited one of Grayson’s infamous sensual smiles. “I do not have the strength to disagree.” He opened one eye to look at her. “Since you seem to have the energy to talk still, perhaps I’m losing my touch. I might just have to try again.”

  Portia hugged him tightly, relishing the truce that seemed to have taken hold between them.

  They sat silently for several minutes, still intimately joined, Grayson remaining semi-hard within her pulsing body. With eyes still closed he finally asked her, “Did Robert ever encourage you to think of a match with me?”

  “It was not Robert’s way to push me, for he knew how stubborn I am, but he did say he thought you were just the man I needed. He thought of you as a brother, and I know he liked the idea of our families being merged. He tried not to meddle, but he loved us both and wanted to see us happy.”

  “Rubbish—he loved to meddle.” Grayson pulled her deeper into his embrace. “He told me we were not suited.”

  Portia laughed. “I suspect he thought that you’d get the hump and do the exact opposite of what he proposed.” She sat back and looked at him. “Admit it. If he’d suggested courting me, you would have run a mile. Before the war, neither of you wanted to settle down. You were enjoying sowing your wild oats.” Her smile faded. “I admit I was hurt when you told me Robert didn’t think we were well suited, but I have thought about it a lot since then. I can’t believe Robert meant what he said to you. It’s more likely Robert wanted to keep you from going to fight, and he thought laying down a challenge might just make you pursue me. He understood that if you married, there was no way you would have followed him into war.” She rested her head against his chest, listening to the strong heartbeat. “I’m sure he really only wanted both of us safe.”

  Grayson ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Well, his plan backfired. I followed him and failed him. Plus, I thought he was serious, and—”

  “You didn’t fail him. You could not protect him all the time, nor would he have expected you to do so. Only God decides when our time has come.” She studied him intently. “I think you knew he would welcome a match, but you used his warning as an excuse.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. He turned to stare out of the carriage window and drummed his fingers on the seat in time to the noise of the turning wheels.

  Her heart softened. “You’re scared to love, and I find that so sad. Love is what feeds our souls and sustains us. I love my family, and although I’ve lost Robert, he is always with me in my heart. I am a better person for having had him as a brother. I would never wish Robert had not been a part of my life, even with the pain of his loss. Would you?”

  He merely licked his lips, still refusing to look at her. She brushed a stray lock of hair from his face and ran her finger down his chiseled jaw, bringing it to rest under his chin. She used the finger to turn him to face her. “Opening your heart to love is both the easiest and the hardest thing to do. It’s easy because when you love someone they light up your world. You love them unreservedly, faults and all. Your life is better for having them in it.” She stroked his cheek. “On the other hand, love is hard because it’s a risk. Those you love can hurt you in many ways. They can reject you. They can disappoint you.” She paused before gently adding, “You might lose them to God.”

  She watched him swallow, but he did not look away.

  “However, I know something else too. I almost died, and do you know what that experience taught me?” He shook his head. “I learned that each minute we spend with those we love is precious. I consider myself very lucky to have had Robert in my life for twenty-three years. I could never regret having him as my brother, as you don’t regret having him as your friend.” She brushed at a lone tear trailing down her cheek. “Your life would have been poorer for not having had Robert as your friend. You can wish he never died, but never wish he hadn’t been a part of your life.”

  He looked up at her, his eyes filled with pain. “I miss him. I miss Robert so much. I miss my parents and my sister. I constantly wonder what kind of woman Lucinda would have grown into. It’s like a part of my world is missing.”

  She pulled him tight against her bosom, cradling him in her arms, as he dragged in deep breaths, trying to remain composed.

  Taking pity on him and not wishing to push him too hard, she whispered, “Giving your heart takes courage. I know, because I gave mine to you, even though you didn’t want it.”

  He stilled and pushed her back so he could look into her face. “When Robert told me we wouldn’t suit, I was surprised. I thought he would welcome a match, and I admit I had considered it because of our families and how yours took me in. So I started to look for reasons he would think a marriage would not be right for either of us. I studied you and compared you to the only woman I was close to, my mother.”

  She laughed. “I’ve thought that might be the case, but I’d hoped my mother might have shown you that it is perfectly acceptable to run a household in a different way.” Her smile died when he didn’t agree with her. She hurried on, “I don’t think in this day and age I’m the only woman who wants more out of marriage.”

  His face went a perfect shade of pink. “Before my father died, he began my instruction of what would be expected of me as the heir. He told me that I must pick an appropriate woman to aid me. A woman who could stand quietly but perfectly by my side.”

  “Let me guess: a woman who would bear your children, run your home, put up with your mistresses, and stay in the background.”

  He smiled at her tone. “Exactly.”

  “Ooh, that is so old-fashioned. I could box your father’s ears. But what of your happiness?”

  “It is the way most marriages within our social group work. They are alliances made for reasons of money or power, nothing more. That is what my parents’ marriage was, I know.”

  “And this is what you want, an alliance?”

  He hesitated. “I am not sure. It was your parents’ relationship that made me question his advice. It was obvious they loved each other. They were more affectionate with each other. I can’t remember my father ever hugging my mother—or hugging anyone, come to think on it, even me. Your father showered us all with affection. I can still remember the first time he pulled me into a bear hug. I was embarrassed at first and then proud, because he did it to all his sons. I felt at home with you all from that moment on.” He stroked her back. “After Waterloo, I struggled with duty versus what I desired. I wanted what your parents shared, but I was scared. What if I let myself love you and then I lost you? You’d almost died once before.” He swallowed hard and buried his face in her bosom again. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  She realized that she’d then proceeded to make his nightmare a reality when she walked into Weston’s trap. “I’m sorry for putting you through all of this. Can you forgive me?”

  He gripped her arms harder. “If I was to love anyone, it would be you. I just don’t
know if I can bring myself to let my guard down.”

  It was not exactly the answer she wanted, but it gave her love-filled heart hope.

  “However, you can help me by promising to think before you act,” he went on. “Don’t put yourself in undue danger or cause such scandal. If I’m to continue Robert’s cause—”

  She frowned. “What cause?”

  “He wanted to ensure that injured war veterans received help finding employment if they wanted it, and that their pensions were adequate. Most are living in abject poverty, or treated as invalids, when with help they could work again and get their dignity back. I want to help them after their sacrifice for God and country. I’m trying to raise funds for a charity that focuses on encouraging large estates, factories, and businesses to hire veterans.” He cupped her face. “You know it will be harder to obtain society’s support if I have an unconventional, scandalous wife.”

  “A woman like me,” she finished for him.

  They simply sat looking at each other.

  He sighed. “I can’t ask you to change who you are. That is what scares me. Losing you scares me.”

  His words cut deep. She didn’t want him to be afraid. She wanted him to embrace their love and to share in the joy of it.

  “Does it scare you enough to let me go?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.

  She watched his jaw pull taut and felt his fingers dug into her skin. His eyes flared with possession, and she all but had her answer. It thrilled her.

  “You are not marrying Maitland.”

  “I take that as a no,” she said, and placed a kiss on his lips.

  He lifted her off him and remained silent as he used his handkerchief to clean her and himself and right their clothes.

  “Would it help if I told you I’ll be very, very careful from now on, and I’ll try not to let my behavior embarrass the Blackwood name?” At his skeptical look she added, “Within reason.”

  He sat on the opposite seat, looking decidedly sensual, his light brown hair tousled from where her fingers had sunk deep into the thick waves, and her heart galloped as loudly as the horses’ hooves outside. She hated the distance that had settled between them, when only moments ago he’d been buried deep inside her. Physically they were in tune, but the notes soured when it came to viewing the world and their places in it. She had to try to make him understand that life and love were worth the risk.

 

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