Sweet Enemy

by Heather Snow

  And if not, then she’d always have this night in his arms to remember.

  She slipped off of the chaise, dropping to her knees as he was. His other hand came up, as if automatically, framing her face. Liliana rose as high as she could while kneeling and wrapped her arms around his neck in a similar fashion.

  Please. Let him understand.

  She pulled his head down and kissed him.

  Geoffrey burned, his feelings a conflagration that seared through him, leaving nothing unscorched.

  She loved him.

  He hadn’t dared hope. Certainly he’d suspected Liliana was coming around to the idea of a relationship, but he’d expected it would take months, possibly years, to break through the wall she kept around her heart.

  And yet she’d said she loved him.

  He squeezed her to him, tightening his hold as he deepened the kiss. Christ, he never wanted to let her go. There was only one way to ensure that, and she’d yet to answer him.

  He broke the kiss, gasping for air. He reframed her face between his hands, waiting for her violet eyes to open. Purely male satisfaction stole through him at her dazed expression. “So your answer is yes?”

  Liliana’s slow blinks became more rapid. “Let’s discuss that later,” she murmured, arching herself toward him and brushing his manhood.

  Geoffrey pulled back, though the effort cost him. His body screamed to conquer her, to take her here and now. Yet he would not let her get away. Call him a cad, but he wasn’t above using her obvious desire to get his way. After all, she’d already admitted her love for him. He wouldn’t let her retreat. He’d push his advantage now, knowing if she gave her word, it was golden. “No, now. I will not make love with you unless you agree to be my wife.”

  She shook her head, tugging at him, trying to bring him back to her.

  “No, Liliana. Not until you say yes.”

  She closed her eyes with a frustrated moan.

  What could she be thinking? He knew she’d never wanted to marry. He suspected she feared a husband would control her as her aunt had tried to do, would forbid her work. Most men would. But surely she knew by now that he would not, that he would encourage her and could indeed help her by using his influence. Surely she saw, as he did, what they could do together, how good they’d be together.

  Liliana lifted her lids and looked him directly in the eyes. “I will marry you,” she said.

  “Thank the Lord,” he muttered, struck by the balm of relief that soothed his suddenly overwhelming need to own her, to possess her, not as an object or a person to control, but so that she would never leave him. He moved in to seal her promise with a kiss, but Liliana’s hand snaked up and she pressed four fingers against his lips.

  “If,” she whispered, and his heart stopped. “If you still wish me to in the morning.”

  He tugged at her arm, pulling her hand away as his mouth closed in on hers. For such an intelligent woman, she could be quite nonsensical. How could she possibly think he would change his mind once he’d bedded her? If anything, his need would only grow, expand, bind him to her eternally.

  Liliana moaned against his lips, opening herself, trying to draw his tongue deeply. Yet now that he had her promise, Geoffrey wished to take this slowly. Just the knowledge that they had forever made him want to savor rather than conquer.

  He considered moving them to his rooms. It wasn’t ideal to take his future wife on the library floor, but as Liliana tore at his shirt, desire pounded through him, mocking his intentions. Who was he kidding? They’d never make it upstairs. Hell, at this rate, they wouldn’t even make it to the chaise.

  Instead, he decided to give in to an urge that he’d had since the first moment he’d seen Liliana astride his prize mare. He gathered her in his arms, twisting to bring his legs in front of him as he lowered from his knees to a sitting position. He ruched Liliana’s skirts up her thighs with one smooth move, spreading her legs as he settled her astride him.

  Her heat scalded him, separated from his by nothing more than the fabric of his trousers. A groan ripped from his throat as lust shot through him, hardening him impossibly more. Almost as if by instinct, Liliana ground down upon him. He clamped her hips, unable to stop himself from arching into the pressure.

  “Sweet, we must slow down,” he groaned.

  In answer, Liliana rotated her hips against him. “I don’t wish to.”

  Geoffrey barked a laugh. She didn’t wish to. He clenched his eyes shut. He’d wanted to make this night perfect for her, but he was fast losing his ability to think properly in the face of her need.

  Liliana’s hands found his chest, and without warning she pinched his nipples hard.

  Geoffrey gasped, his eyes flying open as the combination of pleasure and pain ricocheted to his cock.

  “Now, Geoffrey,” she commanded. “Please.”

  He quit fighting the need and reached for the fall of his trousers, his hands trembling like a green boy’s as he pressed her skirts higher. “Do you wish me to come to you? Or would you like to mount me, much as you are now?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but then her brows drew together, telling him he’d intrigued her. “That’s possible?”

  “More than possible,” he said, realizing in this way he could show her that a union with him did not mean he would dominate her. “And it allows you most of the control.”

  He could tell by the seductive smile that crossed her lips as she considered the options that the idea appealed to her. Hell and damnation…for a smile like that, he’d give her control of anything she desired.

  “How?” she asked, and he knew she’d made her decision.

  “I’ll show you.”

  Cool air brushed his heated skin as he freed himself from his drawers. “Raise up on your knees,” he commanded. When she did, his hand cupped her and she moaned. He slipped his fingers along the slick outer folds of her mons, dipping inside to ensure she was ready for him. The hot moisture that greeted him nearly sent him spilling.

  With one hand gripping her hip, Geoffrey guided himself to her entrance. The skin of his cock stretched impossibly tight, so ready was he to possess her. Yet he ceded control to Liliana. “Place your hands on my chest. When you are ready,” he rasped, “lower yourself onto me.” He wondered if he would be able to stand her slow descent as she adjusted to him, but he vowed not to take charge even if he had to bite through his lip to remain still.

  Liliana braced herself on him and closed her eyes, and then she was surrounding him, an inch at first but steadily, inexorably she took more.

  Geoffrey gritted his teeth against the pleasure of her body tightening spasmodically around him. And yet he did not move. All feeling centered squarely on where they were joined, all focus on the woman giving herself to him without fear or hesitation.

  By God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Perspiration beaded her forehead as her face tightened in concentration. Her teeth tugged at her lower lip as she experienced his intimate invasion.

  She took a deep breath as he came to her maidenhead. Her violet eyes opened, and the look as she gazed at him spoke of pure trust, of love. Gratitude burst within him. What had he done to deserve her? Whatever it had been, he would spend his life repaying fate for sending her to him.

  She leaned forward, her chestnut hair cocooning his face, and she kissed him at the exact moment she lowered her body completely, giving herself to him.

  “Oh God, Liliana,” he groaned when he could once again breathe. The exquisiteness of being fully seated inside her was like nothing he’d ever known. He couldn’t explain, couldn’t think of anything other than the fact that he felt right. And responsible. Responsible for taking care of this precious gift of a woman, not only in this moment, but for all time.

  “Let me,” he whispered, taking her hips in his grasp. “Let me love you.”

  As he said the words, he realized he was unafraid. Liliana had erased the fear. He didn’t know if he could love her in the w
ay she deserved after spending a lifetime fighting that emotion, but he wanted to try.

  She rose upright, arching her back as she pressed herself to him. “Yes.”

  Geoffrey surged upward, lifting her, yet he held her still at the crest as he withdrew. She bent her head, her eyes searching his, and then she cried out as he brought them together again, hard and fast.

  “Yes, Geoffrey. Please.” Liliana’s breath came quickly as he pounded into her again, and each gasp whipped him.

  Geoffrey groaned, knowing he couldn’t last much longer in her heat. He had to make this good for her. She’d caught the rhythm well enough, so he released her hips. He moved one hand to her mons, his thumb finding the center of her pleasure. He brought his other around her neck, pulling her to him for a hot kiss.

  His lips devoured her, pouring every bit of emotion he could into his kiss as his hips thrust up to meet hers in a frenzied, rotating flurry. His thumb circled her clitoris in counterpoint, and he could sense her tightening around him. Hurry. Hurry, darling.

  It had never been this good, and he was quickly losing control. His only thought now was to take her with him.

  He pressed her tightly, using every last bit of his effort to steady his thrusts. Then he released her clitoris from beneath his thumb and flicked it.

  Liliana exploded around him, gripping, milking, moaning her release. He slammed upward one last time, and then Geoffrey knew nothing else other than what it felt like to empty his very soul into another person.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  F

  eeling came back slowly as Geoffrey emerged from a satiated fog enough to comprehend the sensations. The finest linen and wool money could buy abraded his overly sensitized skin like the coarsest broadcloth. Gooseflesh raised on his body as cool air traveled over places that had recently burned. Hot drips splashed against his neck where Liliana had buried her face after collapsing upon him— Hot drips? It took some doing but Geoffrey opened his eyes and blinked. Liliana still lay astride him, but she was draped over him now with her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. The tantalizing scent of apples and lemons wafted from her hair, filling him with a measure of peace, and yet…

  A hitching, irregular movement registered. Liliana seemed unable to catch her breath. Geoffrey focused, and alarm raced through him as he put the clues together. The hot drips raining down upon his skin must be tears. Her tears.

  He instinctively tightened his grip, smoothing his hands over her back and shoulders. Yes, now he could hear her soft sobs, and the sound ripped through his heart. Had he harmed her? He hadn’t been gentle, but she’d seemed to have preferred him that way.

  Bloody ass. She’d been the novice, he the experienced one. He should have maintained control, as she hadn’t known any better what she’d been asking.

  He brought a hand up, running it over her temple and through her cascading curls. “Liliana?” His voice croaked from his throat, which shouldn’t surprise him given the raw shouts of pleasure he’d barely stifled. “Love, are you all right?”

  She tensed atop him and held her breath, but a fresh wash of tears splashed against his neck. His chest tightened. “Sweetling,” he murmured, wishing she would raise her head so that he could see her face. “Have I…” He swallowed, dreading the answer. “Have I hurt you?”

  At that, she lifted her head, and Geoffrey ached at what he saw. Liliana’s lips were flush, the lines of her face smooth and sated, yet the satisfied look of a woman well pleasured warred with one in abject misery.

  She raised herself to a sitting position. The sliding movement shot pleasure through him even as he slipped from inside her, yet Liliana only wiped at what seemed to be an endless torrent of tears. Geoffrey’s alarm increased. She wasn’t the sort to cry. He’d known women who had wept tears of release after intense climax, but this was different, serious. Dread chased away Geoffrey’s lingering afterglow.

  “Oh, love,” he said, his stomach twisting. “I’m so sorry—”

  As she had just before accepting his proposal, Liliana stopped his words with her fingers upon his lips. Only this time, those fingers trembled. “No,” she whispered. “If anyone should apologize—” She bit her lip, her head moving slowly from side to side. Moisture had deepened her irises to a violet pool. Her chest rose as she inhaled, and her eyes fluttered with rapid blinks as she composed herself. “It is I who am sorry, Geoffrey,” she said, her voice once again strong, yet with a note of bravado that tweaked his heart. “More than you can know.”

  Geoffrey braced his hands on the floor at his sides and pushed, raising his torso off the ground in a swift move that brought him to a semiseated position, one that left Liliana still straddling him.

  Her eyes widened as his sudden shift rocked her position, sending her back against his thighs, which he’d brought up to support her, yet also to trap her.

  Was she truly sorry she’d given herself to him? Anger battled with tenderness and an annoying insecurity. He’d never bedded a virgin before, and particularly not one with a curious mind like Liliana’s. Perhaps he had not lived up to her expectations. A huff escaped him, remembering the blissful wonder on Liliana’s face when she’d found her release. He knew, at least in that, she had been well pleased.

  Then what was this about? What was currently swirling around in her head? Guilt? Confusion? Fear? Whatever it was, it was contrary to what she should be feeling at this moment, and by God, he would not let her waste one more second on regret.

  He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes so as to convey his absolute conviction in what he was about to say. “You are going to be my wife, Liliana. There is nothing more right than making love with your husband.” At the shake of her head, he said, “Certainly, there are those who say we should have waited until after the vows were spoken.” Geoffrey softened his voice, bringing his arms around so that he could take both of Liliana’s hands. “But in my heart, we were married the moment you agreed to be mine.”

  Her full bottom lip trembled.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, nor anything to fear.”

  She dropped her head onto his chest, wracked with sobs that were now silent. Bewilderment and fear settled in Geoffrey’s chest. There was something else the matter here, and he hadn’t a clue what it could be. All he could do was hold her until she was ready to explain.

  At long last, she leaned away and raised her face to him, but what he saw twisted something within Geoffrey. Liliana’s face had smoothed, and though she still trembled, she also looked strangely resigned. What had she gotten into her head? He tried to pull her back, but Liliana scooted away, the harsh rustling of fabric sounding as she rose from the floor to stand above him. She turned and walked over to the table near the still open passageway.

  Geoffrey rose and adjusted his clothing, trying to remain calm. Yet the silence that descended upon the room took on an eerie, still quality that he recognized immediately. It was the calm before the storm, the reflective quiet he had experienced many times before a battle as he waited for the enemy to strike.

  The familiar surge of adrenaline heightened his senses, and at the same time, tiny prickles needled the back of his neck, a sensation he’d only ever felt in times of danger. Geoffrey frowned, knowing the feeling to be completely out of place. He swallowed and rolled his neck to dispel the irritating reaction and made to follow Liliana.

  She turned just before he reached her, that box she’d brought held tightly in both hands.

  “I think it’s time you open this,” she said. The solemness of her tone combined with her tear-ravaged face brought a sick feeling to his stomach.

  Geoffrey stared at the nondescript box and immediately backed away. He couldn’t explain why. He only knew that if he never saw what it contained, he would be a happier man for it.

  But Liliana persisted, pushing it into his hands until he had no choice but to take it. The hard lines of the wood scratched his fingers as a splinter pierced his skin.

  Geoffre
y moved to the chaise and sat, ignoring the sting of pain, the drip of blood that smeared the surface. He removed the lid and placed it on the seat beside him before peering inside the box.

  Three bundles of letters wrapped in aged ribbon lay on the bottom, along with some miscellaneous papers. Geoffrey glanced up at Liliana, who stood before him, perhaps four feet away. She looked as if she weren’t breathing. Tension marred every part of her being, and the edge of her bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “What is this?” he asked.

  “Proof that your father was responsible for the death of mine.”

  “What?”

  She’d said the words so unemotionally, so matter-of-factly, so soberly, that for a moment Geoffrey didn’t grasp them. Yet the breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry as his body comprehended her meaning, even if his mind was slow to follow.