She reached into her mind, almost as if she could grasp and pluck out the memories that escaped her. And again the elusive memories teased her as if they were near, then flitted away, afraid to expose themselves to her scrutiny.
Her back straightened as she screwed her courage up to the sticking-place and her hand fisted around the key. She would not shirk, no matter how frightened she was. She took one determined step forward, then another.
A hand clamped over her mouth and an arm slipped around her to drag her backward, once more into the darkness.
Chapter Twelve
Gina twisted and fought like a dervish, trying to loosen herself from the unforgiving hold and clawing at the hand over her mouth. Dear Lord! Not again.
“Are you mad?” a familiar voice whispered.
She went limp with relief.
“Dare I release you?”
She nodded and breathed deep as he eased his hold on her. He still held her to steady her and she turned in the circle of his arms. “You nearly scared me to death,” she whispered.
“No less a fright than you gave me,” James said, a sardonic smile twisting the corners of his mouth.
“How did you find me?”
His mouth was mere inches from hers. “Coincidence.”
“But—”
“It was a trap. Henley drew me away deliberately. He had cast Mary off by the time I got backstage. I gave chase, but he had already disappeared. He has set traps for me before, and I suspected he had done so again when a coach nearly ran me down. A clumsy attempt, to be sure, but one that put me on my guard. ’Twould appear half of London is looking to collect the bounty on my head. I will be lunging from runaway coaches, watching for falling objects and dodging bullets until this thing is over. All unnecessary since you will be the death of me.”
Gina sighed. Though she’d listened to him carefully, her mind was overwhelmed with other things—the clean, spicy scent of his cologne, the way a faint dimple appeared in one cheek when he grinned, the warmth of his arms around her. She found she could only nod her understanding.
“I had a report earlier tonight that someone had seen a light in one of the upper windows here, so I came to investigate. I found nothing. But that still doesn’t explain your presence here, Eugenia.”
“A light?” She looked over her shoulder at the eerie deserted house.
“You’re going nowhere but home, Miss O’Rourke.”
“Directly after we search the house.”
He looked astonished and angry at the same time. “I already have. You have sorely underestimated me. When I took you home after your ill-conceived foray into White chapel last night, I thought you would know enough to abandon such foolish tricks. If you do not, you leave me no recourse but to act as your missing conscience. I am taking you home, Eugenia, and we shall waken Drew and tell him what you are about.”
Panic sent gooseflesh up her spine. “You would not dare!”
“Convince me not to, Eugenia. Give me a reason—just one—to hold my tongue. But be warned, it had better be good.”
In her heart, she knew he was right. She knew she’d been foolhardy even though Mayfair was not Whitechapel, and that desperation had driven her to absurd lengths. She knew, too, that she’d put herself in danger akin to the sort that had landed her in trouble in the first place. She was ill at ease all the time, but she couldn’t help herself.
Lacking a sane reason to convince him, she rose on her tiptoes and placed her lips against his. She felt him stiffen in shock, then soften to her insistence. His arms tightened around her as he deepened the kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue, testing her resolve. Did he think she’d relent? Beg off? Run home?
Oh, he’d sorely underestimated her.
Eugenia’s sweet persistence took Jamie by surprise, though his body responded in the most primitive way. For the briefest of moments he’d been angry at her ploy, but then he’d understood her desperation. Understood it and knew he could never use it to take what he’d wanted for so long.
Ah, but what could a kiss or two hurt? Something to carry with him after she’d gone back to Ireland. Something to warm him in the long, cold days to come.
He lifted her slightly to fit her against him, to feel the hollow of her femininity. She moaned and clung tighter as he pressed her back against the tree that had sheltered them from vision. She tangled her fingers through his hair and held him close, as if she were afraid he’d withdraw. Oh, but not in this life.
She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Giving her time to catch her breath, he lifted her a few inches more and trailed kisses down her throat to the little dip at the base. The scent of ambergris and moss rose to him as he ran his tongue over the vulnerable spot.
He could feel her trying to deepen the contact of their hips, but her skirts would not allow it. He began to hitch them higher, to wrap those graceful limbs around his waist, but he caught himself. He had not lost that last shred of his decency.
“No,” she gasped. “Find a place. Now, Jamie. Now.”
He could not mistake her intent. She wanted to finish this, to make love fully rather than their usual interrupted attempts. “You cannot know…”
“I want to, Jamie. I need to know.”
He knew a public house very near. The proprietor would not ask questions this time of night. He draped the brown shawl over her head, took her hand and led her away from the deserted house and around a corner, but he balked. His sensibilities would not allow him to take Eugenia to a common public house. His flat was less than a mile away and he’d sent his valet on a fortnight holiday to have him out of the way should any attempts to murder him extend to his home. Now on the busier street, he flagged a coach, shouted his address and lifted Eugenia in, wondering if she would change her mind and if the moment of madness had passed.
He need not have worried. The coach was scarcely in motion before she was in his arms again, kissing him with a fervent desperation. He’d never sensed such honest and overwhelming passion before.
She fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat, slipped her hands inside and awakened a rising anticipation in his too-responsive body. He needed her, craved her like no other. And he was well past embarrassment when the coach door opened and the driver gave him a wink.
“Shilling, sixpence, sir.”
Jamie tossed him a few coins without looking and was met with a pleased, “Obliged, sir.”
Shielding her from the driver’s view, he escorted her up the steps to his rented flat, fumbled with the key and had her safely inside by the time the coach drew away.
Her shawl fell to the foyer floor as she reached up to him again, her eyes already heavy-lidded in anticipation of another kiss. He complied, almost laughing as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bedroom, knowing there was still a chance for her to change her mind. Pray for her sake that she did, because he could not.
The room was darkened but for the glow of banked coals in the fireplace. He placed her on her feet beside the bedpost and went to open a window to the summer night, and by the time he turned back, Eugenia was fumbling with the fasteners at the front of her gown. He watched her for a moment, feeling his libido riot with good sense.
She was not practiced in the art of undressing for a man, as his mistresses had been, but there was something very endearing in her innocent haste. Then she looked up from her task and her eyes met his. A blush spread across her cheeks even as her lips lifted at the corners in a shy smile.
He went to her and held her shoulders. “Are you certain, Eugenia?”
She nodded, a universe of promise in her eyes.
He slid his hands down to cover hers and take their place. One lace at a time he undid her gown, revealing fine silk beneath the rough homespun. Like Eugenia herself, the deeper he went, the finer the fabric. By the time her gown slid to the floor and he sighed at her lack of a corset, he was burning with his need to feel her beneath
him, fitting herself to him, closing around him.
The sheer silk of her chemise and stockings taunted him, revealing, and yet not revealing her. He was uncertain how to continue without ripping the delicate fabric when she took matters into her own hands. Or, rather, took him into her own hands.
She quickly slipped the knot of his cravat, discarded the length of cloth and unbuttoned the neck of his shirt. She’d forgotten his waistcoat and had to push it off his arms. He smiled at her eagerness. She was new territory for him. He’d never made love to an innocent girl before, and he wanted this to be memorable for her. With that thought came another.
Leave Miss Eugenia alone. She deserves better.
Charlie’s words sobered him. How could he do this to Eugenia? How could he take the incredible gift she offered and ask no more?
“No, Eugenia. I cannot do this. It was a mistake. I am so sorry for—”
She blinked and her eyes narrowed. “You cannot? Or will not?” She pushed him in anger and, unprepared, he staggered backward, landing against the wall. “Is it because you have already seen me naked and did not like it?”
By all the saints! How could she ever think such a thing? She had haunted his nights ever since, but not with disgust—with longing and desire. “Eugenia, you will thank me when the passion clears. How could I take advantage—”
She threw herself against him, and bunched the fabric of his shirt in her fists as she shook him. “You cannot stop now, Jamie. You cannot. You owe this much to me.”
The violence of her passion, the raw emotion in her voice, reached him and he understood what she wanted, what she needed. Though he suspected he’d regret it the rest of his life, he surrendered his conscience.
Lost. He was lost. All his lofty principles about leaving the ladies of the ton alone, of restricting his amorous activities to the demimonde, to women who had no power over him, went out that window on the late summer breeze.
“Easy, Eugenia,” Jamie cooed.
Caught up in her own need, she pulled his shirttails over his head and he lifted his arms to help her. She swayed slightly at the sight of his bare chest. She’d never seen this much of a man exposed before. Her breath hitched and she realized she’d stopped breathing for a moment.
He steadied her and waited while she looked down at his remaining clothing. She skimmed her trembling fingers along the warm flesh above his breeches, seeking the button to the flap that covered him. Could she go so far as to… She slipped her fingers beneath the band but he stopped her and backed toward the bed to sit.
Toe to heel, he wedged his boots off, dragging his stockings with them, then lifted her in his arms and placed her on his lap. He traced the line of her hip beneath the fluid silk and sighed. “I am afraid I will rip your underpinnings, Gina.”
He’d called her Gina. Oh, he could leave her underpinnings in shreds for all she cared.
With a little sigh, he pinched one corner of her chemise and eased it from under her to glide it up her sides and over her head. As she was exposed, she shivered and her nipples grew taut. She had thought it would be easier once she was undressed, as if the deed were almost done, but as Jamie dropped his gaze to her breasts she held her breath in fear. Oh, pray he did not think her inadequate. But his next move dispelled her worry.
He nuzzled her neck, stopping to worship her scar with his kisses, and half turned to ease her back against pillows that smelled of his cologne and his uniquely masculine musk. Something tingled deep inside her and she was suddenly impatient to have this done with. Despite the vague memories, despite the ever-present fear, to know, once and for all…
Leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, he lowered his head farther, drawing one firm areola into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, nipping gently with his teeth. Oh! She had never felt anything half so delightful! She bent one knee to rest against him and he groaned deep in his throat.
He stood quickly, but before she could form a protest, he had undone his breeches, dropped them to the floor and turned back to her. He was glorious. He was terrifying. Her heartbeat sped and she fought her rising anxiety.
Jamie was beside her again, kissing her with a fierceness that took her breath away and left no doubt that he wanted her. At least for this moment. For this small space of time.
She tangled her fingers through his hair, wishing she could hold him there forever. He was doing such wondrous things to her, such unspeakably pleasurable things, that she could not remain still. Again she raised her knee to glide along his bare hip, reveling in his heat and strength.
He groaned and moved lower, taking one breast into his mouth, and nibbled, gently drawing forth an answering heat in her middle. She felt as if she were straining for something as yet unknown, but she knew Jamie would reveal it to her in the fullness of time.
He slid his hand lower, to the juncture of her legs, and her raised knee made her vulnerable to his touch. He began a seductive rhythmic stroking at the top of her cleft that had her lifting her hips to meet him.
“Ah, that’s it, Gina. Open for me. Let me in.”
His praise warmed her and she was ready when he moved his hand just a bit lower and entered her with one long finger. She stiffened at that foreign invasion and caught her breath, then expelled it slowly as the rhythmic stroking began again.
Heavenly and naughty at the same time…. That could be said of more than Jamie’s kisses.
“Like molten silk, Gina. So soft, so snug.”
The pad of his thumb continued to stroke that sensitive little nub as he slipped one finger steadily in and out. Within moments she was arching to his hand, craving more, hungering to have him deeper inside her.
Unthinkingly, she reached for him, for that part of him that was uniquely male, wanting to know how he felt, and if she could give him the pleasure he was giving her. As her hand closed around his shaft, he groaned and jerked as if she’d hurt him, but she knew she hadn’t by the deep sigh he gave her.
“Yes, Gina. Yes. Touch me.”
She smiled, delighted that she’d pleasured him. As she rose to his hand, she tightened her hand around him, following the rhythm he’d set, finding it so insanely sensual that she shuddered.
Suddenly Jamie pulled away and moved down her body, stopping to explore her navel along the way, then dipping lower to where his hand had been. The first stroke of his tongue drew a shocked gasp from her, but then the sheer pleasure of it blanketed her in heat and had her incapable of thinking of anything but the next stroke of his tongue, and the next.
His hands bit into her hips to raise her slightly and give him freer access, but the building tension inside her made it impossible for her to remain still for long. She thought she would die with the insistent need. Little frissons of delight burst at her center and raced along her nerve endings.
“Jamie,” she keened.
He rose between her thighs and the look on his face was raw and strained. “Steady, Gina. Do not fail me now.”
Fail him? How could she ever fail him?
The staff she had so recently held had changed. Swollen to an even greater size, it looked red and angry, as if it would burst. Fear, primal and vivid, gnawed at the back of her mind but she fought it, knowing now that he would not hurt her.
Jamie lowered himself, hovering only slightly above her. The hard probe of his shaft at her entrance discomforted her and she had the first inkling of how different this would be than the welcome invasion of his strong fingers.
She looked up at him and he nodded, as if reading her mind, then covered her mouth with his as he probed again, his tongue mimicking his shaft. She wanted to protest, tell him he would never fit, but she found her arms going around him, pulling him closer as she raised her knees and hips to meet him.
And then he was inside her, thick and strong, but shallow still. He withdrew just a bit, then thrust again, going deeper, ever deeper with each thrust. Pleasure mingled with pain, and back to pleasure again until he had buried himself inside her, ro
cking against her and awakening that sleeping bud to full blossom. The strokes of his shaft coupled with the deepened contact sent her into a spiral of pleasure and need. She wanted more, and more and more.
Her breathless moans shocked her and she marveled that they had come from her. But then, she’d never felt pleasure so powerful, so insistent, building to an explosive burst of rapture so intense that it racked her entire body.
“Yes,” Jamie whispered, his breath hot in her ear. “God, yes. Come, Gina. Come with me.”
Anywhere. Always. Forever.
Jamie stood at the window and watched the first tinge of violet stain the horizon. He would need to waken Gina soon if he was to have her home before the house was stirring, but not a moment sooner. Gina needed rest.
After they’d made love, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, her cheek and one hand resting on his chest and her leg crooked over his. He’d only been able to watch her, touch her—the curve of her cheek; her lips, dusky and swollen with his kisses; the violet shadows of sated fatigue beneath her eyes; the silken mass of gold and brown hair scattered across his pillow and the velvet warmth of her skin as he stroked her hip. She was the most glorious creature he’d ever known.
And when she’d stirred an hour later, he’d kissed her and they’d made love again. Slower, sweeter, with all the wonder of first love and filled with all the power, all the ecstasy of their first time, but suffering none of the angst. More than anything, he wanted to believe that she had not been seduced by the moment, and that she desired him half as much as he desired her. But he was a man of the world, experienced in the art of seduction, and he knew that he’d caught her unaware and used her own passionate nature against her.
He turned and went back to his bed to study her, to burn the vision of her there on his memory. He did not deceive himself that she had fallen helplessly in love with him or that they could ever build a future given what he represented to her. No, he had served a purpose. Gina had wanted to know what making love was like, wanted that answer, and he’d been only too eager to give it to her, and flattered that she’d chosen him. But he should never have given in to her pleas. Should have been strong enough to give her up and preserve her virtue. He had failed her, but he would not do so again.
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