by Marie Force
He felt rather than saw her derision, and it was the very reason he tended to stay away from ballrooms full of judgmental mothers and debutantes such as the exquisite creature who waited patiently for him to turn his attention to her. Simon steeled himself and shifted his gaze to her. This time, her scent was the first thing he noticed, an arresting array of lemon and spice.
Later, he wouldn’t remember what he said to her or what she said, nor would he recall signing her dance card or Enderly leading him away when no more polite conversation could occur without causing a scandal. While Simon wanted nothing more than to stand before her and continue to make inane conversation, he was ever mindful of Derek’s place among these people and his place with Derek.
“You scored a bloody waltz,” Enderly marveled as they walked away. “Only you, Simon. Only you.”
Stricken, Simon stared at Enderly. “A waltz, you say?”
“You signed the card, man!”
“I had no idea what I was signing!”
“What the devil has gotten into you? And your cousin?”
“You know,” Simon said, feeling as if something significant had shifted in his world without his knowledge or permission, “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
Thirty minutes later, Simon told himself it was just a dance. Except, of course, it wasn’t because he avoided scenes such as this like the plague. He couldn’t actually recall the last time he had danced with a woman, let alone waltzed. Could it have been as far back as Eton? Good Lord, he’d make a fool of himself and Derek by association. Before he could begin to actively sweat, Lady Madeleine smiled up at him and stopped his heart.
Gazing down at her, Simon vowed to leave his old life behind. He vowed to give up all his vices. Well, maybe not all, but most. Definitely most. Whatever it took to make himself a man this exquisite creature might welcome into her life.
“You’re staring, Mr. Eagan.”
Her softly spoken words startled Simon out of the trance he’d slipped into. “I’m sure you’re quite accustomed to that.”
“Most are more subtle.”
“I’ve made you uncomfortable. My apologies.”
“None necessary.” Even though he was acutely aware of her soft hand gripping his through her glove, of the heat of her body under the hand that rested on her back, of her bewitching scent, somehow Simon managed to navigate them through the steps without tripping over his own feet while pondering the changes he’d begin to make imminently.
First, he would quit drinking. Then he’d stop gambling. Other women? A thing of the past. Horse races? Maybe he could continue to visit the track on occasion. Gentlemen did such things, didn’t they? Simon honestly couldn’t say. He’d never given a fig about the activities of the ton. But now . . .
“Lady Madeleine, I wondered if I might, if you would be amenable . . .” He cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Did she sound breathless or was he imagining it?
“I’d like to call on you.”
“You would?”
Simon nodded, afraid to speak or breathe. If she said no, he’d die. His heart would simply cease to beat.
Her lips parted, and Simon had to remind himself of where he was. Otherwise, he might’ve kissed her right then and there, heedless of the scandal such an action would cause.
“I would be amenable,” Madeleine said softly.
“Your parents may not be.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Simon wanted to shoot himself. Way to sell yourself, Eagan.
She turned those potent navy-blue eyes up at him. “And why is that?”
Simon winced. “I have somewhat of a reputation.”
“Ah,” she said, laughing. “Are you a bit of a rakehell then?”
“Lady Madeleine, I am truly shocked that you know such a word.”
“I know a few others as well.”
Maybe it was her saucy tone or perhaps it was the laughter in her eyes, but Simon fell straight off the cliff into love with her. After years of disdaining other men who changed their entire lives for a woman, Simon suddenly understood why they did it.
“Should I be concerned about this reputation of yours?” she asked, affecting a mockingly serious expression.
“You should probably be terrified.”
But rather than terror, he saw intrigue in her expression. Interesting. Very, very interesting.
“I’ll be at home tomorrow afternoon. A walk in the park would be lovely, don’t you think?”
“Mmm, lovely.”
“Mr. Eagan?”
“Yes?”
“The music has stopped.”
Startled, Simon looked up to find the eyes of the ton trained on him. He bowed and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
“May I escort you back to your family?”
“Yes, please.”
He offered his arm and walked her across the ballroom. Delivering her to her mother, he mumbled something unintelligible and had to force himself to walk away. Knowing a dozen other young bucks were waiting in line for their turn to dance with her made him feel sick. How could she dance with anyone else? Didn’t she feel the connection between them?
A hand landed on Simon’s shoulder, jolting him. “What the devil has gotten into you?” Enderly asked.
“I seem to have developed an affliction.”
His friend laughed. “Is that so? What are your symptoms?”
Simon rested a hand on his chest. “Racing heart, trouble breathing, a spot of fever, chills.”
“As serious as all that?”
Tearing his eyes off Lady Madeleine across the room, Simon glanced at his friend. “I’m afraid so.”
“Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Nor did I, my friend.” Simon sought her out once again, hungry for more. “Nor did I.”
Chapter Twelve
“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
The question sent a bolt of fear rippling through Derek.
“What am I saying?” Catherine asked with a laugh. “Of course, you’ll tell me the truth. You’d never lie to me.”
“Cat—”
“I apologize for inferring that you’d ever be anything other than truthful with me.” She shifted so she was on top of him and pressed her lips to his. “Do you forgive me?”
As the fear gripped him, he ran his hands over her back. He had to tell her. He had to. If only he wasn’t convinced that telling her would ruin everything—and that was a risk he wasn’t ready to take. “I may need some inducement,” he said with a playful smile that belied the terror. He’d never been so afraid of anything as he was of losing what he’d so recently found. Now that he’d had it, how would he ever do without it?
Her lips moved softly over his face.
Derek closed his eyes as waves of pleasure washed over him, seeping into the cold, dark, empty spaces within him. “Catherine.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, cupping her face in his big hands. “No matter what happens, promise you’ll never leave me.”
She looked down at him, her eyes filled with confusion and wonder. “How could I leave you when I couldn’t possibly live without you?”
Overcome by relief, he brought her down to accept his kiss, sweeping his tongue into the sweet softness of her mouth. His fingers combed through her hair, anchoring her. Derek raised his hips, and she let out a squeal of surprise.
“Easy,” he said, arranging her so she straddled him.
A flush crawled from her breasts to her neck to her face. “We can’t! Not like this.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, laughing at her scandalized expression, “I assure you we can.” He nudged at her soft flesh with the blunt head of his cock.
“Jack!” She squirmed on top of him, forcing a sharp gasp from him.
“You’ll like it.” He guided her hips. “I promise.” Raising her, he took himself in hand, found her heated entrance and had to remind himself to go slow, that this
was all new to her.
“Oh! Oh, God. Jack.”
He hated, absolutely hated, hearing another man’s name uttered from her plump lips at such a moment.
“It won’t fit,” she wailed.
“Yes, it will. Relax and let me in.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and her head fell back in total surrender as he lowered her inch by torturous inch. Once she was fully embedded, he stayed perfectly still, giving her time to accommodate him.
“Jack,” she panted, her muscles clenching so tightly around him it was all he could do to keep from losing control.
He skimmed his hands from hips to breasts. Watching her expressive face, he raised himself up to draw her nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue back and forth over the sensitive bud. Her hips surged, and he bit back a curse as he moved quickly to hold her still, lest this end before it really began.
“I need to move,” she said between choppy breaths.
Derek lightened his hold, encouraging her to ride him. At first her movements were jerky and desperate, but then she found a rhythm that made them both breathless as they moved together. Enveloped in her heat, he decided that nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of being inside Catherine.
She rolled her hips in a move he’d expect from a seasoned courtesan and not his recently virginal wife. Derek slipped a hand between them to coax her. The instant his finger made contact with her center she came harder than she ever had before, taking him with her for the most explosive release of his life.
Gasping, they fell into a tangled pile on the bed. As he fought to bring air into his lungs, it occurred to him that she’d never asked her question. Since she expected nothing but the truth from him, maybe it was just as well.
In the light from the fireplace and the candles they’d never bothered to extinguish, Derek watched her doze. She lay facing him with one hand under her face and her golden hair fanned out like a halo on the pillow. Noise from the street and the tavern downstairs filtered into the room. Derek would’ve preferred to take her somewhere nicer, but he hadn’t wanted to make her suspicious about what an estate manager could afford.
He’d never intended for the deception to get so out of hand. Of course, he’d also never intended to fall in love with her. Protecting her from Lord Lindsey had become his top concern, and surely she’d forgive him the deception that had ensured Lindsey could never come near her again. Wouldn’t she? A twinge of anxiety worked its way down his spine as he remembered her utter disdain for the aristocracy.
If only he could be certain that she would understand, he would wake her and tell her the truth right now. But the idea of her looking at him with disappointment rather than adoration stopped him. He just needed a little more time alone with her to show her how much he loved her, and then he would tell her.
He leaned over and nudged the sheet aside to place a kiss between her soft breasts.
She shifted onto her back, but didn’t awake. He kissed his way up the slope of her breast and nudged at her nipple. “Hmm,” she murmured, still asleep. Sliding closer to her, he kissed a trail from her breast to her belly. When he reached the soft blond curls at the juncture of her legs, he felt her stiffen with awareness. Just as quickly she relaxed, but her breathing remained ragged.
“Again?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair as he tasted her hip bone.
“Mmm, again,” he whispered, watching bumps rise on her sensitive skin. He moved farther down on the bed, settling between her thighs and arranging her legs so they rested on his shoulders.
“Oh,” she said, moaning as his tongue traced her outer lips. “Jack.” The fingers that had been caressing his hair tightened, and her hips surged almost of their own accord. “I still can’t believe you like to do that.”
“I love to do it.” He slid his hands under her to cup her buttocks, opening her to his exploration. His tongue slipped inside, feasting and devouring. Derek lost all sense of time and place, his entire focus on her pleasure. Withdrawing one hand from her bottom, he teased her with two fingers at her entrance.
When his tongue circled her clitoris, she released a deep moan. Encouraged by her responsiveness, Derek pushed his fingers into her and sucked hard on the pulsating nub.
Catherine raised her hips to meet the thrusts of his questing tongue and fingers. The sounds that came from her, the scent of violets and lily of the valley, the honey-sweet taste of her, the glow of the candlelight on her soft skin. Derek had never been more absorbed in anyone. He slowed the movement of his fingers, then removed them from her channel and pressed one damp finger against her back entrance.
Her eyes flew open in shock and perhaps excitement. “Jack.”
He kept up the pressure of his tongue on her clitoris as he pushed more insistently against her tight pucker.
“Oh, oh, God,” she cried as his finger gained entry to her most private passage. He sucked hard again on her clitoris, and she came with a cry that no doubt woke everyone in the inn and maybe even the houses next door. Her climax went on for what felt like an hour as she shook and trembled and cried out with each new wave.
Derek stayed with her throughout the tumult, keeping up the steady pressure of his tongue and finger.
Finally, she calmed, but her uneven breathing told him how completely undone she was. He withdrew from her and moved so he was on top of her. “Still with me?” he asked, kissing the dampness from her forehead.
She kept her eyes closed when she nodded. “Yes.” Even that single word came out on a choppy-sounding breath.
“Look at me, Cat.”
It seemed to take tremendous effort for her to comply with his request. When she ventured a glance up at him he saw something new, something different. “What are you thinking right now?”
After a long pause during which she absorbed him with her eyes, she said, “That I might have lived my whole life without ever knowing it was possible to feel like this.”
Undone himself by the raw emotion behind her words, Derek touched his lips to her neck and pressed his cock against her sensitive flesh. “And now that you know?”
She wound her arms around his neck and sought his lips. “I never want to be without it again.”
“You won’t be,” he vowed, entering her with one long thrust. “You’ll never be without it or me again.”
He loved her with everything he had, hoping it would be enough when the time came to give her the truth.
* * *
“What did you want to ask me? Before I distracted you?”
Catherine laughed softly. “Is that what we’re calling it? Ravished is a much better word.” Except for her brief nap, they’d been awake for more than twenty-four hours, but neither was in any rush to end their magical day.
He took her hand and kissed each finger. “Distracted, ravished, whatever you prefer.”
“I have a different question now.” Her face heated when she thought of what he’d done to her, how it had made her feel and what she wanted to know.
“You may ask them both.” The words were spoken in his usual tone, but Catherine sensed rather than heard the hesitancy behind the statement.
She closed her eyes against the tingles of sensations that his fingers combing through her hair aroused in her. “I can’t help but wonder where you learned such wicked lovemaking skills.”
Jack laughed. “Wicked?”
“Mmm. Very, very wicked.”
“I believe you rather enjoy my wicked lovemaking skills.”
“I never said otherwise. I am, however, painfully curious as to how you came to know such things.”
“I had a friend,” he said tentatively.
“What kind of ‘friend’ teaches you . . .” Her face heated with mortification. She couldn’t believe she was having such a conversation with a man, even if he was her husband. But then she also couldn’t believe the things he’d done to her, things she’d never imagined transpired between a man and woman, even in their marriage bed.
�
��Wicked things?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“She was a courtesan named Kitty, and she made a man out of me.”
Catherine gasped at the matter-of-fact delivery of such a scandalous statement. “You’re making that up.”
Beneath her, he stiffened, as if she had insulted him. Catherine raised herself up, so she could see his face. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m not making it up. I’m sorry if it upsets you, but it’s the truth.”
He looked so pained and ashamed that Catherine immediately regretted her questions. “It’s none of my concern. Whatever happened before we met—”
“Doesn’t matter now. My whole life began the day I found you digging a hole in my . . . Well, in the duke’s backyard.”
“You’re quite proprietary about his estate.”
“It’s my whole life.” That much had been true up to now. “How else would you expect me to be?”
“No other way, I suppose,” she said, running a finger over his muscular chest.
“What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. How could she ask him, knowing what his job and the duke meant to him?
“Catherine.” His finger beneath her chin forced her to look at him. “I hope you know there’s nothing you can’t ask me.” There, again, a flash of something in his eyes, something that might’ve been fear or trepidation. What could that be?
“It’s just, I wondered . . .”
“What do you wonder?”
Catherine forced herself to meet his intense gaze. “If you’d ever consider leaving your duke for a time to travel.”
As he studied her, he swallowed hard as his cheek twitched with tension. “Where would you like to go?”
“Somewhere. Anywhere.”
Jack smiled and skimmed a finger over her cheek. “Nowhere specific?”
“Paris, I suppose, and Egypt. I’d like to see the pyramids. And the Coliseum in Rome. I’ve seen paintings of the Alps, but I wonder what they really look like. Can you imagine taking a ship across the ocean to New York?”
“But nowhere specific,” he teased, his face alight with amusement.