Touched By Danger (A Sinclair & Raven Novel Book 3)

by Wendy Vella

  She felt his hot breath on her neck, and then lower, until he was licking one of her breasts.

  “Oh” was all she could manage as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. His hands continued to touch her, stroke the secret place between her legs, and all Essie could do was hold on as the tension inside her escalated.

  “Max!” Her body spiraled tighter as he pushed a finger inside her. It was exquisite, and she shuddered as pleasure swamped her.

  “Christ, you are beautiful,” he whispered against her lips as he eased her back onto the bed. “And I want you very much, Essex.”

  “I want you,” she whispered. Her hands pushed his breeches down his thighs. Essie was not afraid of the human body; she had seen it in many different forms. Max had a beautiful body, so powerful and strong.

  “God!” He threw back his head as she touched the hot flesh of his arousal. She trailed her fingers up and down the skin, and then wrapped a hand about it and stroked him.

  “Sweet Christ, that’s good.” His hands cupped her face and tilted it upward. She saw the savage expression, but felt no fear. Max would not hurt her. His hands circled hers and eased them away from his body.

  “Trust me, Essie.”

  “I-I do.”

  Starting at her neck, he began to kiss his way down her body, and by the time he reached her stomach, Essie was writhing, her fingers clenching handfuls of the covers. Lifting one of her legs, he kissed the inside of her thigh.

  “Max?”

  “Just feel, Essie.”

  She felt his breath there. The hot sweep of his tongue and warmth of his breath, and then she could think no more as sensation after sensation swept through her. The pressure was exquisite, and then he eased a finger inside her once more, and she shattered for a second time.

  “You must take me inside you, sweetheart. My injury will not allow me to brace myself on my arms too long.” He urged her to her feet, then sat on the side of the bed and pulled her onto his thighs, her legs straddling his. Cupping her face, Max kissed her, and then lay back on the bed.

  “Lift up on your knees.”

  She did as he ordered, and felt him pressing at her entrance. Easing down, Essie felt him slowly enter her, stretching her wider. Silken muscles clenched as he stroked forward. There was discomfort, but also wonder. So this is what happens.

  “God, you feel good, Essie.”

  She felt his hands on her waist as he met her maidenhead, then he took control and pushed through, pulling her down onto his chest as she cried out at the pain.

  “Sssh, sweetheart, it will ease,” he soothed.

  The feeling was unusual, and yes there was discomfort, but there was also pleasure that she was now joined to this man. His hands were stroking her back as she listened to the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear.

  “Sit up now, Essie.”

  She did as he asked, and then he was lifting her hips, easing her slowly up his arousal, and then back down. The silken glide of his flesh inside her stirred her body to life once more. Max gritted his jaw as his hips drove up to meet hers as she came down. His hands cupped her breasts, and Essie came down harder and faster, eager to reach that pinnacle she had found before.

  Max’s hoarse cry met Essie’s as she threw back her head; together they flew over the edge.

  Breathless, Max wrapped his arms around Essie and held her close to his chest. He felt the brush of her breath on his shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. He wondered what had just happened, how an innocent had made him feel something no other before her had managed. For the first time in his life he’d lost control, felt lust so powerful he had been beyond reason. She had touched his back, touched the welts that had been inflicted on him as a child, and he had not shuddered. What did that mean? How was it possible that this woman had come to mean so much to him in such a short time? The panic began in the pit of his stomach.

  “Max?”

  “It’s all right, Essie,” he soothed, easing the grip he had on her hair.

  “What’s your name, Max?”

  “You know my name,” he said, trying to control of himself. She deserved to know more, but he could not tell her... not now, after what they had shared. He had deceived her by withholding information he should have shared. Guilt settled on his shoulders.

  “No, your full name.”

  “Max Hunter.” Another lie.

  “It suits you,” Essie said, kissing his chest, which felt way too good and right for Max’s peace of mind. They lay there in the dark, he holding her body on top of his, and he thought what a fool he had been to make love with this woman, because he had a terrible feeling that he’d never want to let her go.

  “Do you wander the earth a free man, Max? No people or buildings to tie you in one place? Will you tell me of your life? Some of the personal things.”

  “No. I do not speak of my life.”

  She rested her hands one on top of the other and looked down at him. He saw no shyness in her gaze, and no regrets over what they had done. The regret was his alone.

  “You are not like other women.”

  “If you mean why am I not horrified and cringing in maidenly modesty, then yes, I am different. I am a healer. I know the human body, be it man or woman. I was also raised with a family who are not like others. We are for the most open and honest with each other.”

  He touched a curl, wrapping the silken strands around his fingers.

  “Max, I care nothing about your past, or your possessions. I care nothing if you are a wanderer, with no fixed abode. But should you need a place to rest at any time, then I offer you this one.”

  Christ.

  “Essie—”

  She placed her hand over his mouth. “Do you believe a girl who wears wool in her hair and grubs about in the earth cares about wealth or prestige? That I care if you have nothing to your name? I care nothing for that, only what I know. You are a good man, Max Hunter.”

  He closed his eyes rather than see the emotion in hers. She was open and honest, and he... well, he was a lying bastard who would never be good enough for this woman. He needed to tell her the truth. It was the only way.

  “Tell me that you now see your beauty, Essex.” Those words came out instead of the right ones, and Max knew why. He wanted her soft and pliant in his arms for a while longer. Believing that he was a good man. Another hour, no longer, and then he would send her back to her bed and leave. It was the only way. He would hurt her if he stayed, and he could not do that, not to her, not when he owed her so much.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Essie braced herself to enter Dev’s bedroom and see Max. She found a smile as she imagined what she would see: him resting on the pillows, his tawny mane of hair tousled, eyes sleepy. Big body warm beneath the blankets.

  What they had shared last night had catapulted her into a world of sensual pleasure that she had never experienced before. Yesterday, Essie knew, had changed her completely. Max had changed her. His touch had ignited her, his kisses had melted her, and she wanted more.

  She’d thought Tolly had broken her, left her unable to feel anything for another man. Max had changed that last night. His lovemaking had left her reeling.

  “Does that make me a hussy?” Essie giggled. Likely it did, but then she cared nothing for that. She would take what snatched moments she could with Max. And in the time she had with him, she would try and persuade him to stay.

  He had challenged Murray Brunt, and then punched him, with a bullet hole in his side, and all because Brunt had said horrid, threatening things to her. Surely that meant he cared for her a little?

  She had finally left his side as the gray steaks of dawn filtered through the window. She had kissed his lips softly and left him slumbering peacefully, and vowed she would return to that very place again soon.

  Opening the door, she walked inside and found the bed empty. Pressing a hand to her heart as it started thudding hard inside her chest, she looked around the room but saw no sign of him
. Running out, and down the hall, she checked every room, arriving in the kitchens last.

  “What is amiss, Miss Essex?” Bertie was stirring a pot on the stove.

  “Max, he is not in his bed.” Panic was filling her because even as she did not want to believe it, she knew he had gone.

  “Go to the stables, perhaps he is there seeing his horse, and I shall check upstairs,” Bertie said.

  She did as he said, and ran all the way, but all she found was Myrtle sitting outside the empty stall that had held Max’s horse. She dropped to her knees and hugged the dog, who whined softly.

  “H-he’s gone, Myrtle, and Lord, it hurts.”

  She had known him for such a short time, and yet the impact he’d had on her life was immense. Last night he had treated her as if she was the angel he professed her to be, and then after he had taken her innocence he had fled like a thief in the night.

  “How could you,” she whispered into Myrtle’s fur. Did what they had shared mean nothing to him at all—or had he left because in fact it had meant something?

  Essie made it back inside; she even appeared composed when she told the Hemple brothers Max had gone.

  “I’m going to wash up now, and will be back shortly.”

  They did not question her, and Myrtle followed as she climbed the stairs. Only when she closed her door did she let the tears flow. Silly, useless tears for a man she knew nothing of except what her heart had told her. He was kind and gentle, and protective. Was she wrong again? Had she misjudged another man?

  “No, I won’t believe that,” Essie whispered. He cared for me and Myrtle, and I will not believe differently. He’d told her he had nothing to give her, and she had accepted that. The shock was that he had left before she awoke, but she had to admit he had promised her nothing.

  “I wonder if we will ever see him again?” She hugged the dog close.

  He was alone by his own admission. Alone, with no possessions or home, and had promised her nothing. She had last night as a wonderful memory, and that would be enough. It was certainly more than she had ever believed she would have.

  “Are you in there, Essex?” The words were followed by a heavy fist banging on the wood.

  Rolling off the bed, Essie knew if she didn’t answer it, Cam would knock it down. Wiping her eyes, she forced a smile onto her face and opened the door.

  “Cam, why are you roaring at such an early hour?”

  She stepped back and away, so he could not see her, but his hand stopped her. He turned her to face him, then her chin was lifted.

  Her brother’s eyes roamed her face, taking in the devastation she was sure he saw there.

  “Why are you crying?” Cam went still when he was truly worried, and his voice lost all the lightness and humor he was known for.

  “I am merely exhausted.”

  “Tell me the truth.” He shook her.

  “He... Max has gone.”

  “And this upsets you enough to have you crying?”

  She nodded, then bit her lip as more tears threatened. “H-he is injured, and I fear for him.”

  The green Sinclair eyes narrowed.

  “No, there is more to this sadness than just that. What did that man do to you?”

  She forced a laugh from her lips, but it was more a sob.

  “How can he possibly have done something to me in two days, and with a bullet hole in his side?”

  “That I do not know, but I plan to find out.”

  “I-I— He can’t mean anything to me.”

  “And yet he does?”

  “N-no.” Essie refused to weep again. “I will be fine, Cam, it was merely a s-surprise to see him gone this morning. I worry he will open the stiches and get an infection.”

  “You were always the worst liar in the Sinclair clan.” Cam opened his arms, and she walked into them simply because she wanted to be held by someone who loved her.

  “I’m all right, truly, Cam. Unstable, and not s-sound of mind, but all right.” Essie tried to make light of the situation. “Tiredness is making me weepy.”

  “Of course you are, but you’re all those things and my sister, and if someone has hurt you, I will have to hurt him.”

  “I am not hurting, it was a shock.” Essie tried again to convince her brother.

  “Well considering what Bertie told me about Brunt, I can understand you have had a trying time of things.

  “He is a nasty, mean man.”

  “He is at that, and I believe I now owe this Max a debt of gratitude for flattening him with a good punch.”

  She nodded into his shirt. “I fear you will not see him again to thank him.”

  “You don’t know where he has gone then?”

  She shook her head.

  “Come, let us go out to your garden. You’re always calmer there.”

  Essie let Cam lead her outside, and felt the sun on her head as he walked to her gardens. Reaching the bench seat she and Eden had built, he lowered her onto it.

  “Cry your tears, Essie, and then we shall talk, you and I.”

  “I don’t like crying, it makes my head hurt,” she said, leaning into his arm. “And really I have no reason to do s-so. I am not the weeping Sinclair, as you very well know, I am the calm Sinclair.”

  “Who wrote that rule?”

  “It is the way of things, Cam. I settle arguments and soothe ails.”

  “I had no idea you were so boring. Remind me again why I am here with you?”

  “You know what I’m saying.”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  She looked at him, and saw the look on his face was genuine.

  “I-I’m not like you, Dev, and Eden.”

  He studied her, running his eyes over her hair and face. “You certainly look like us.”

  “I just don’t have your...” Essie struggled to find the right words. “Charisma.”

  “I wouldn’t be too upset about that, as not many people do,” Cam bragged.

  Essie snuffled into his shirt.

  “Are you wiping your nose on my clothing?” Cam always knew how to make her smile even when she had no reason to.

  “I arrived downstairs this morning to find the Hemple brothers wringing their hands and murmuring about this sainted Max, he who felled Brunt with one blow. It’s enough to put a man off his food… were he any man but I, that is.”

  Essie sighed. “I am all right, Cam. It was just a shock to find him gone.”

  “I know you, and this is more than shock.”

  “I don’t want to feel things anymore.” Essie struggled to put her thoughts into words.

  “A trifle hard when you live in a family of emotive people, love.”

  “That is not my meaning. I meant I never want to feel anything for a man again. I decided this after Tolly broke my heart.”

  “You were born to love, Essie, it’s in your nature.”

  “I don’t want that. Don’t want the pain and heartache that goes with it. I have seen our siblings struggle with emotion, and while Dev and Eden are now happy, they suffered to get there.”

  Cam sighed. “It is part of the process, Essie. You cannot simply wake up one morning, meet your mate and live happily ever after. Not if it is true love, anyway. Some of those marriages in London make me shudder, all about connections and family ties. Cold and unemotional unions are not for a Sinclair.”

  She looked up at him, but his eyes were on Myrtle, who had followed them outside and was foraging about in her gardens.

  “Do you want that, Cam?”

  He was quiet for a while as they listened to the sounds around them. Essie could hear the waves crashing against the rocks some distance away, and the gulls screaming, the rustle of leaves in the trees. The smell of her herbs wafted around them. All were as familiar to her as breathing.

  “I’m not sure I have it in me to love like that, Essie. I’m not sure I want to ever feel that way about a woman either.” He looked down at her.

  “You know that when you sig
h like that, you of all my sisters, it breaks my heart,” Cam said in a soft voice. “When that bastard Tolly hurt you, I wanted to raise him from the dead for the pain he inflicted on you.”

  “I know, just as I know you and Dev would do what needed to be done to protect me.”

  “How has this man who left in the middle of the night hurt you in such a short time? Can you tell me that?”

  “He did not hurt me,” Essie denied.

  Cam snorted. “I know you well enough to see the hurt, sister.”

  “Brunt hurt me with his words, and I hurt for Beth, and yes, perhaps I did feel a little something for Max, but he was nothing but a gentleman to me.”

  “Then why are you hurting? It makes no sense.”

  “Because he made me feel something. An awareness that I had hoped to never feel again,” Essie said. And when he made love to me, I was sure he touched my soul.

  “I understand what you mean. Women have come and gone in my life who have made me aware of them. A touch or look shared. It’s disconcerting,” Cam said.

  “Is there a particular woman in your life now who makes you feel like that?”

  He shook his head. “Oh no, no, no, we are not discussing me, sister, but you.”

  Essie sighed again. “Every man who has come into my life, I compare to you and Dev. Every one usually fails, but yesterday I realized that Max is like you both. He is a protector, for all he appears the opposite. He was kind to Myrtle, and she in turn loved him, and h-he punched Murray Brunt when he dared to call me a witch.”

  “Now that I wish I had seen,” Cam said.

  “Brunt called me a witch, Cam.”

  Her brother got to his feet and stalked away from her. She watched as he plucked several heads off flowers and shredded them. Myrtle came to his side and pressed herself against his leg. Cam being Cam, he bent to pat her head. Even in anger, her brothers would never turn from those that loved them.

  How had she known in such a short space of time that Max was the same?