Lady Triumphs (The Black Rose Trilogy Book 3)

by Renee Bernard

  “You are not an idiot. I generally have no use for idiots, Phillip, but I—I find that I am very much in need of you. As illogical as that may be…” She shook her head. “I am not a woman who hopes. But I am a woman who needs.”

  He kissed her then without preamble, without pretense. It was a searing kiss that threatened to overwhelm them both with hunger and with relief at the passionate fires that still burned between them. Nothing had been lost. Phillip’s kiss was commanding, lifting her up against him, tasting her mouth and ravishing her senses. There was no hint of begging or supplication now. He was the man who had always driven her desires and after nearly losing her, it was clear that Phillip Warrick was not going to relinquish the reins again.

  “Oh, my!” she sighed as he finally released her. “Phillip, this is a dangerous devotion. Tell me you realize this.”

  “I love you, Raven Wells. I love you, Serena Wellcott. I love every incarnation of you, light and dark. It is all I can do. Am I overjoyed that you place yourself in harm’s way to help others or that you trust at a glacial pace? No. Am I going to be prone to forbidding us to so much as play cards so that we can avoid any reference to someone winning or losing? Yes. Am I going to run at the first flash of those elegant claws? No. Never again. So name your terms, woman.”

  She took a deep breath. “I will not abandon the Black Rose.”

  He nodded. “So be it.”

  “I will never marry.”

  He didn’t flinch. “We’ll set aside that debate for another day. So long as I alone have you, for I will not share you with another man.”

  “If only you knew how truly selfish I have been with this heart, sir. Apparently once given, I lacked a single thread of human charity that would have compelled me to offer any other living soul a slice of it.” She sighed. “Even when I hated you, Phillip Warrick, I was yours. Entirely yours.”

  “I will make no effort to reform you on that point.”

  Serena tipped her head to one side. “I assume your fidelity is also part of this arrangement?”

  “Without question.” He began to relax, the heat between them igniting again. “Anything else?”

  “I am going to destroy Trent. It is time.”

  “Raven,” he started to protest, the heat dying in an icy flare inside his chest. “Please, my darling. Let’s let it go. The earl is the devil himself. Let Hell sort him out.”

  “No.” She shook her head and pulled her hands away to stand. “My resources are in place. I have cooled my heels long enough to give him the illusion of my disinterest. I am going to destroy Trent, on my own terms and in my own way. And what I require is not your approval or complicity, but your strength to stand aside.”

  He came to his feet without effort. “To stand aside?”

  “I will not ask for your help in this enterprise. There must be no hint of your involvement or he will sense it like a fox downwind of the hounds and I will lose him.” She reached up to stroke his face, the soothing trail of her fingertips calming his brow. “My skills are unparalleled but even I cannot risk arousing his old obsessions when it comes to you, Phillip.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care what you claim. Your confidence had to have suffered a blow at Southgate and these ‘skills’ that put you in harm’s way will not shield you from Trent’s madness.”

  “I’ll make no inventory to you of recent lessons I’ve learned, Phillip.” Her hands fisted at her hips. “I have named my terms, sir.”

  “He’s more dangerous than you imagine.”

  “I know that even better than you.”

  Phillip shook his head. “What self-respecting gentleman could agree to this? What kind of man steps back and lets the woman he loves face a demon like that alone?”

  “I won’t be alone. I have the Black Rose and I have you to return to each night and to encourage me.” Raven leaned in to kiss him softly. “Give me the greatest gift I could ask for, Phillip.”

  “And what gift is that?” He tasted the silk of her lips before she leaned back to look into his eyes. “My trust?”

  Her eyes misted with emotion and at last, she gave them voice. “Revenge.”

  Chapter Two

  Phillip held his ground and studied her. The scent of her body and the jasmine perfume in her hair was already working against his intellect but he was determined to stay strong—at least long enough to navigate a conversation that would affect both their lives.

  “I can’t gift you with something you’ve proclaimed you’ll have with or without me. I don’t know if I can play the voyeur when every part of me is screaming that it is hardly the role of a gentleman to deliberately fold his arms while the woman he loves proposes to dance with the devil. It’s not the role of any man.” He gently reached out to grip her upper arms. “We have wrested our happiness from the maws of defeat. We could punish him by openly living happily ever after. What satisfaction can be gained from pushing for more? He’s an eel of a man and not worth a minute of your time.”

  “Phillip. I will stop him. Not just because he betrayed my father’s trust, used me so callously and destroyed the girl I was without a backward glance—but because I cannot in good conscience allow him the power to do it again. How many lives has he altered on a whim? How many souls have been crushed in his wake? How many more fates are twisted when his temper dictates imaginary insults or his inner demons demand more respect?” She held still in his hold, the strong emotional currents inside her anchoring her. “How many more Ravens will fall?”

  “Are you to become the world’s protector?”

  She lifted her chin. “Not the world’s but the women within reach of the Black Rose, yes. Yes, Phillip. I am Lady Serena Wellcott and I will not allow the Earl of Trent to shed the consequences of his cruelty. I will balance the scales and scrape the last of these scars from my soul or I will die trying.”

  “No. No dying, Raven.”

  She smiled. “As you wish.”

  “If I agreed to this…”

  “Yes?”

  “Then you would have to fully comprehend the implications. You jest but I have seen how lightly you value your life, Raven Wells. I have seen how careless you can be.” He shook his head at the icy fear the memory of her bruised face evoked. “You would risk all to achieve your aims but that has to change. Because it is not your life alone you would sacrifice.”

  “Phillip—“

  “There is no poetry in death, Raven. None. If you demand my solemn vow to support you in this cause without interference, then you have to know that if you fail, then linger at the golden gates, my dearest, for I’ll join you before St. Peter has finished his first speech of welcome.”

  “You were ever the optimist, Phillip. But yes, I will ask the Devil to wait.”

  “Raven,” he said, closing his eyes at the frustration that urged him to throttle her. “Swear that whatever revenge you need, the price won’t be blood.”

  “His or mine?” she asked.

  “Don’t jest.”

  She shook her head. “I never jest about vengeance.”

  “Raven!”

  Serena sighed. “Of course I will do my utmost to survive unscathed. What sort of delightful revenge would it be if anyone other than Trent suffered? Besides I know Geoffrey Parke, the Earl of Trent, too well. He would never resort to violence, not directly. And the Black Rose is known for its elegant solutions and in this instance, I am aiming for perfection, Sir Warrick. Stop scowling at me.”

  “When I have agreed to this, you will never ever get to demand proof of my love and allegiance for as long as I live. Do you hear me?”

  She nodded, a familiar wicked smile beginning to light her features. “Are those your terms?”

  “Nearly. I have one last requirement.”

  “Let’s have it.”

  “No more secrets.”

  Her gaze narrowed but then cleared as he watched her make the mental leap. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” he said warily. “That was…far s
impler than I expected.”

  “Oh, I shall invent an elaborate ceremony where you lay prostrate at my feet and swear fealty to our secret society, something with incense and a foreboding amount of shadows and stained glass. What do you think?”

  He nodded. “There should be a chalice, an obscene amount of candles and a sword if you’re going for high drama. Naturally I will be looking forward to seeing what your costume of diaphanous black silk entails…or would that be too obvious?”

  They both began to laugh and Phillip decided that he had had all a man could take of solemn vows and dark narrow escapes. Just as her balance shifted with their merriment, he bent over to sweep her up off her feet and lifted her into his arms.

  “Phillip!”

  “Where is the bedroom?”

  “Oh!” Her laughter evaporated. “It’s upstairs. Second floor. If you put me down, I will happily walk to spare you the effort of the climb with—“

  He didn’t wait for her to finish. Phillip was a man on a mission and he didn’t care if she’d put her bed on the top floor of her home, or on a mountain top for that matter. He strode from the drawing room with his prize held against his chest, deliberately not looking at her too much to avoid the temptation to see to things on the nearest sofa or—

  Hell, I’ll make love to you on the staircase, woman, and your staff can just recover their wits later.

  He surpassed the temptation by taking the stairs two at a time, winning her laughter at the playful betrayal of his impatience. She was light in his arms, an easy and welcome burden. She was also actively seeking to distract and tease him as he made his way through her house. Serena’s hands roamed freely, loosening the buttons of his shirt front and caressing whatever skin she could bare given her position. The brazen gesture sent lightning arcs of fire through his frame because it heralded the change between them.

  They were not cowering in the shadows.

  Lady Serena Wellcott was mistress here and felt no need to disguise her desire for him from the servants. There was no pretense, no prevarication and for Phillip it was a revelation to taste how sweet life could be. He’d missed this. Their time together at Southgate had spoiled him. Once they’d overcome the worst hurdles of their past misunderstanding, they’d enjoyed their secret trysts without reservation and once behind closed doors, without shame between them. Serena was a fearless lover and so generous and yielding, it took his breath away. To regain her trust, there was nothing Phillip wouldn’t contemplate.

  To have her back in his arms was a fierce joy that almost unmanned him. He’d been a given a rare second chance at love and he was not going to squander it ever again.

  Even if this joy only exists within the confines of this house—for now.

  He quashed the distracting notion, returning his complete attention to Serena in his arms.

  “Which door?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “There. Large one directly at the end of the hall,” she purred. “Shall I walk the last bit and allow you to catch your breath?”

  He smiled wickedly and shook his head. “You think me winded? Poor woman.” He stepped to the door and then rather than juggle with the door handle or risk loosening his grip on the precious bundle in his arms, Phillip kicked the door open with the authority of a pirate.

  She squeaked in surprise but her expression betrayed nothing but delight at the aggressive move. “Phillip. Kindly break no more hardware. Mr. Quinn will have fits.”

  “You can comfort him later.” Phillip kicked the door closed with equal force, earning another glowing look from Serena.

  “Yes. Later.”

  He set her down only when he’d nearly reached the large four poster bed set against the room’s far wall. He took no notice of the room’s décor and knew that if quizzed, he couldn’t name a single color in drapery or artifacts beyond the burgundy russet ruched bedding that made up his primary goal. He was not there for a civil tour of her private chambers.

  And Serena wasn’t offering him one.

  He pulled her into his arms to kiss her, unwilling to end the connection between them even as they undressed in a mutual rush, each giving the other just enough assistance to achieve their aims, wickedly caressing the flesh beneath layers, teasing sighs and groans with every fumbled tie or lost button.

  Phillip Warrick was many things, but he conceded that a lady’s maid wasn’t one of them as he wrestled with an inordinate amount of layers upon layers that made up a fashionable day dress and its underpinnings.

  Even so, within minutes, he’d dispensed with every barrier and bared her body to his. They were not strangers to each other but the moment of rediscovery always had a power all its own. He drank in the sight of her, a study in contrasts with her coloring but also the firm ripe curves and lean lines that enslaved him body and soul. She’d truly lost weight, but retained her attractiveness in his eyes. She would reacquire her softness and it pleased him to think of it. If anything, the undeniable evidence that no matter how proudly she tried to announce her independence, her appetite said otherwise. He smiled and pulled his mouth lightly across her bare shoulder.

  Without me, she would waste away… She mourned for us and missed me more than she would ever say—and there is no small part of me that wants to crow to know it! Never again, Serena.

  Serena groaned when his next kiss lifted her up off her feet again, adding to the insatiable craving that whipped through her body. The friction of her body across his and the glorious press of his stiffening cock against her belly wanted her to cry out, to scream in sweet frustration. She wanted his hands, his mouth, his cock, everywhere at once in an illogical storm of lust. It made no sense. She had gone years without him but now accepted that she had barely survived a single fortnight.

  It is ridiculous.

  I don’t care.

  If love has finally made me ridiculous, then so be it. I’ll recover my pride later. For now, I will have this!

  Serena pushed away from him, desperate for control but also to savor him. Her fingers reached out to grip his arousal, her touch instantly changing him, adding to the heat of his body and the sensation that he was increasingly carved in marble sheathed with the velvet of his skin. His breath pulled quickly through his teeth, and she smiled at the beautiful sound of his struggles to rein in his needs. Serena, however, was not in the mood for restraint of any kind. She traced the pulse of his blood as it flowed through him, resting kisses on pulse points or anywhere the thrum and beat of heart betrayed his excitement. If his breath caught in his throat, she would mercilessly pursue his pleasure with her mouth and her hands, until Serena was confident that she alone was the mistress of his satisfaction.

  With a wicked smile, she slid down onto her knees without releasing her grip, and then without hesitation, left him in no doubt of her intentions. She kissed the ripe swollen plum-sized tip of his penis, lavishing him with the stroke of her tongue then took him deep into the warm pocket of her mouth, no teasing preambles were necessary as she allowed desire to dictate her actions. Her hand followed the slick path of her lip as she lifted and lowered onto his flesh, moving in a symphony of admiration and erotic torture. It was an act of worship, a pagan rhythmic dance unselfishly chasing only his fulfillment.

  Phillip’s only choice was to keep one hand on the corner post of the bed for balance and then to surrender to her, to all of it. Because he couldn’t think beyond what she was doing to him—and he didn’t think he could have recited his own name at that moment.

  She brought him to the brink and then leaned back, teasing him with her breath only, looking up at him with a sweet hunger that threatened to push him over the edge. It was indescribable to see Raven Wells on her knees, her breasts grazing his thighs, her mouth hovering over his cock and the wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “My God, I think I might have a heart attack…”

  “A complaint?” she asked softly.

  “No! Who the hell complains if—“

  Her mouth encased his t
hrobbing flesh and Phillip instantly forfeited speech. This time she was relentless, the speed and magic of her strokes and kisses plundering his will. He climaxed in a shuddering series of rocketing implosions that robbed him of breath and reason. Every romantic plan was forgotten, every intention to torture her slowly and see to the gentlemanly code that dictated that is was ‘ladies first’ when it came to pleasure.

  “H-holy….hell…” His knees buckled a bit and Serena stood to push him down onto the bed.

  “I should apologize, Sir Warrick but I…had worked up a terrible appetite for you these last few days and…” She sighed, a blushing and extremely unapologetic woman who happily straddled his belly. “I seem to have a weakness for this version of you.”

  “Which version is this?” he asked, his brain beginning to unfog.

  “The one where you kick in my bedroom door.”

  “Ah,” Phillip said wryly. “I’m going to keep that in mind, Raven.”

  “I will warn Mr. Quinn to be prepared for all future repairs.” Serena wiggled her hips slightly, attempting to carefully avoid his oversensitive flesh.

  Phillip’s body had a very different reaction to her shift, stiffening without warning and catching them both off guard.

  “Oh, my!” she exclaimed cheerfully.

  Phillip lifted her off of him, pressing her down into the soft bedding and covering her with his body to part her thighs. “Seeing as how I have already breeched the door for now, Lady Wellcott, what say we make the most of the day?”

  She nodded, eyes wide. “Yes. I say, yes.”

  Afterward, they lay in a lazy tangle and watched the beams of sunlight lengthen across the room to herald the end of the day. They’d pursued pleasure until they were both sated and happily sore from their efforts. Even so, Serena waited for the inevitable return to the topic at hand.

  “So, about Trent, have you already made plans then?” he asked her in the quiet of the room, her fingers lazily making trails through the rough curls on his chest.