by Shayla Black
The pinnacle of passion danced just out of her reach. The sensations shimmered inside her, elusive like a butterfly, but climbing, building, until her legs tingled, her stomach tightened, and her breathing became erratic and labored.
With every thrust inside her, he murmured in her ear, “Kira, Kira, Kira…”
She felt on fire both inside and out. Pleasure threatened to swallow her whole. She gasped for her next breath.
And then the moment was upon her. She saw stars, brilliant and bright. Iridescent satisfaction roared through her blood, fluid and undulating. With every pulse of pleasure, she squeezed Gavin’s stiff length inside her, hugging him with her body.
Above her, he seized her lips in a ravaging kiss, fingers clutched desperately in her hair. He stiffened and groaned into her mouth for endless moments.
Finally, he slowed, then stopped. His kiss transformed again into a sweet courting of lips before he lifted his head with a sigh.
“Kira,” he murmured as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Perfect…”
Moments later, she heard his deep, even breathing. He dozed for a minute—or perhaps half an hour. Kira really didn’t know, as she was so lost in her thoughts.
She and Gavin felt so natural together, so inevitable. Did he feel the same? Or had he merely taken advantage of her vulnerability and bedded her for the sport of it again? And why had she allowed him to make love to her again before she knew the answer?
Because she had not thought to ask. She’d been too afraid of his reply. And for her timidity, she had earned a new fear to her list of worries.
After the long silence, Kira needed to move. Her right leg had fallen asleep. Gavin was too heavy to keep on top of her forever, even if she didn’t want to let him go.
When she shifted out from beneath him, he wrapped his arm around her waist, palm resting warmly against her. His dark gaze searched her, his expression guarded.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
Not yet, but would he? “No.”
Gavin released her. The night air chilled her within seconds.
“Good. That—that’s good.”
He sounded uncertain, even a bit awkward. Kira closed her eyes.
He made no mention of love or marriage, despite their improper, passionate interlude. She feared that nothing between them had changed. After all, just because she felt the connection did not mean he felt a thing. Just because she loved him did not mean he had any interest in wedding her.
What did he feel? Kira could not resist gazing at his strong, angled face and trying to guess what was in his heart. But neither the dark nor his stoic expression gave her any hope.
She needed time alone to think, to decide how she should repair the damage to her future after allowing Gavin to take her to his bed a second time, particularly when he’d failed to marry her after the first.
“I think I shall go to my room.” She made to leave the bed.
Gavin’s arm wound about her again. “Stay.”
Her heart caught in her chest. Was he suggesting she spend all night in his room so that he could hold her and talk to her about a future together? Or because he hoped to use her again?
Lord, she simply did not know. But her yearning for him, for his acceptance, was so great, she feared if she remained curled up to his warmth, listening to his beating heart, she would allow that longing to drown her common sense and she would give him anything and everything he wanted.
Perhaps that wouldn’t be all bad. Gavin must care something for her if he wanted her to stay. And now that he knew her feelings on the matter of marriage, surely he could not be heartless enough to take her to his bed again when he had no idea of marrying her.
Could he?
“I’m not certain that’s wise,” she said finally.
“What if our ‘friends’ return?” he countered, raising up on his elbow to look down at her. Blue-grays shadows clung to the masculine angles of his face. “I couldn’t bear if anything happened to you.”
Her heart lurched again, softening to his request that she stay. And Gavin had a point. Lord Vance’s men, if they returned, were quite likely to come in greater numbers with even more determination to kill them. Still, they had not returned yet. And if she stayed and succumbed to him once more, she would surrender the rest of her dignity as well.
“I—I… It would be… improper.”
As if they hadn’t already crossed that line long ago.
How could she have been so careless, so foolish? She sighed. The attack had happened so quickly. Her fear afterward had nearly swallowed her. What started as mere comfort had become complex, explosive, and unstoppable.
The question was, what to do now?
When he stroked a few stray tendrils away from her face, however, she wasn’t sure if she should throw herself in his arms again or bolt out of the inn altogether.
“I must go.” She clutched her sheets over her naked breasts. “I’d like to be alone.”
“I will remain on the far side of the bed.” His voice held a pleading note that surprised her.
Even if he did stay on the far side of the bed, that would not change her need to think in peace, away from the distraction he inevitably provided.
“I’m going to my room,” she said with a shake of her head. “Unless there is something else you wish to discuss.”
“No.” With a heavy sigh, Gavin released her.
Fighting a wave of dejection, Kira stood in the shadows, aiming to retrieve her nightdress. Quickly, she realized the garment was puddled on the floor on the other side of the room. She couldn’t possibly fetch it in the nude. He would see.
“I—I’ll need my nightdress,” she told him, not daring to look his way. “Um, I—I believe it’s on the floor, quite close to you.”
“Oh, right.”
Gavin rolled out of bed, and without much modesty, traipsed across the room in search of her gown. The moon didn’t light the chamber well, but Kira got an eyeful of his taut backside and long, lean legs.
He was a wonderful lover and a very tender man when he chose. Kira felt certain he would make some woman an excellent husband.
Did she have any chance to become that woman? Not knowing the answer was clawing at her composure, her very heart.
Finally, he located the garment and handed it to her without a word. He watched with a dark, piercing gaze as she donned it and crossed the moonlight-dappled room.
“Stay,” he implored again. “Please.”
His request was so, so tempting… In the end, sense won out. She shook her head and reached for the door. “If you have nothing to say, then there is no reason.”
Resigned, Gavin sighed. “If you hear or see anything suspicious, shout for me. If you need me, I will come.”
Kira nodded, not trusting herself to speak. How could she when the only words on her tongue were to tell him that she needed the love he might not feel for her?
* * * *
The following morning, Kira entered the sparsely furnished parlor to find Gavin there dressed and waiting for her. He glanced up at her entrance, his dark eyes fixed upon her. Suddenly, all she remembered was the moments in his arms, the pleasure he gave, his plea for her to stay.
Color rose to her cheeks, even as her heart did a nervous dance. What would he say this morning?
Half the night she had tried to discern his feelings, but feared the worst. She wished she had the courage to simply ask him if he had any attachment to her. Ultimately, she dreaded his answer too much.
So Kira waited for him to speak. He only watched her as she made her way to the chair beside him and began to pour tea. The silence hammered at her composure until she felt compelled to speak.
“Did you sleep well?”
He shrugged. “Not terribly. You?”
“No.”
Frowning, he leaned closer. “The thugs last night, they did not hurt you, did they?”
Again, she said, “No.”
“Good.�
�� He nodded, leaning back into his chair. “That is good.”
She swallowed. Still, he stared as if he wanted to say something quite badly. But the sharp silence all but forced her to fill it.
“Sugar? Milk?” Kira gestured to the tea.
Gavin shook his head, and she handed him a cup.
He accepted it without a word, then began sipping at the brew. She did the same, but despite her two spoonfuls of sugar, she tasted nothing.
After only a sip or two, Gavin set his cup in his saucer and took her cup from her hand, setting it aside as well. Then he took her gloved hand in his, stroking his thumb over her palm. His velvety dark eyes remained on her, conveying warmth and anxiety.
“Kira, I think we should speak about last night.”
Her heart jumped nearly out of her chest. The sound roared in her ears. Had she misjudged him last night? The care in his eyes astounded her. Might he actually propose? Kira held her breath, hoping…
Gavin continued, “There is something I very much want to say—”
An insistent pounding on the door interrupted Gavin’s words.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered and rose.
With frustration, she watched as he grabbed her fireplace poker and strode cautiously to the door. Blast it all, who would come to their room at this early hour and in this rude manner? Why did someone have to interrupt as Gavin was making his intentions known?
She bit her lip, watching as Gavin eased the door open, ready to strike with the poker if need be.
To her surprise, Darius stood in the threshold, looking more than a little annoyed.
Unable to believe her eyes, she bounded off the sofa, overjoyed to see him. “Darius!”
He ignored her as he regarded Gavin with a glacial stare. “What the hell are you doing here with my sister?” When Gavin failed to answer, Darius turned to her. “Unless he’s married you since I’ve been away, his grace needs to be reminded about proper conduct.”
Kira stood rooted in place and stared at her brother. She couldn’t possibly assure him that what he feared had happened hadn’t happened. She could not lie to him.
Easing the poker down to the ground, Gavin took Darius’s measure. “If you’re inquiring why I brought her to Cornwall, the answer is, I did not. She traveled here. I followed.”
“Followed so that you could share the same room?”
“We have an adjoining parlor, Darius,” Kira cut in.
Hoping to change the subject, she cast herself into her brother’s arms. He felt so good, so much like home.
“You’re safe! Thank goodness, Lord Vance did not kill you.”
“I have not allowed him to get that close.” He eased away from her, still scowling. “How did you find me?”
Kira didn’t want to implicate Mr. Burgess. Darius would only give him an earful later. “I’m very smart.”
“Yes, and very cheeky too. You won’t tell me, will you?”
She shook her head.
Gavin approached the pair. “My cousin left London to look for you some weeks ago. Have you seen him?”
Holding her breath, Kira watched her brother as he scratched his forehead and regarded the gleaming wooden floor. “He… is with me. I’ll take you to him soon.”
Visible relief transformed Gavin’s features. “He’s well?”
“Indeed, just a bit… tied up.”
Kira didn’t understand but smiled. James was safe as well. That afforded her so much relief! “How did you find us here?”
“I’ve been watching Lord Vance and have made a contact inside his household. Early this morning, my source told me that the Duke of Cropthorne and a foreign-looking beauty had come to call yesterday. I knew it could be no other.”
“We’ve ascertained that Lord Vance must be dealing in stolen goods of some sort,” Gavin said. “Has your source been able to tell you what they are?”
Darius’s expression turned grave. “Yes, and it’s very, very ugly.” He turned to Kira, his face harsh against a wave of fear and anger. “He’s supplying the brothels of London with virgins.”
Shock scalded Kira. “He—he asked me to elope with him so that he could…”
“Sell you? I fear so.”
“Oh, dear God!” Gavin uttered, echoing Kira’s sentiments exactly.
He glanced at her, and Kira met his gaze. He looked both horrified and concerned for her. A fist clenched at his side. Did he, maybe, care at least a little?
“I intercepted a letter he was composing to Mrs. Linde yesterday,” Kira heard Gavin say. “From it, I suspect Vance has two more victims selected.”
Darius nodded. “I know who they are. I think Vance planned to act tonight. That’s why your visit was ill-timed. Stay away or you will make him suspicious.”
“I did not know. Forgive me.” The words sounded stiff, as if Gavin did not often apologize.
Darius sent him a grudging nod and a glare. “Vance always has a thug or two at his side, so as much as it pains me to say so, I’ll need your help to catch him.”
“I’ll gladly assist,” said Gavin. “Vance must be stopped. He’s hurt innocents already.”
“Indeed,” replied Darius, glancing at Kira. Then his voice dropped to a whisper intended for Gavin alone. “And if I find out you’ve touched my sister, I will make you very, very sorry.”
Chapter Fifteen
When Darius said that James was tied up, he’d meant that literally.
Shortly after packing their things, Kira left with Gavin, following Darius on a tense journey through the blossoming countryside. The only talk consisted of last night’s attack by Lord Vance’s men and the plan they believed the fiend would execute that evening. Neither said a word of what hadn’t—or had—happened between Gavin and Kira before Darius arrived. Kira had no trouble believing that if her brother learned that she’d given herself to Gavin twice without a proposal of marriage, he would do his utmost to kill Gavin—either before or after he castigated her for her improper behavior.
Within an hour, they arrived at an abandoned shack near Fentlet Manor Darius had made use of since leaving the Tall Tree Inn. Kira—and from all appearances Gavin—were stunned by the sight of James, disheveled and unshaven, slouching in a ramshackle chair, one wrist bound to the spindle at his side.
“What in God’s name is this about?” Gavin bellowed.
Kira raced to James’s side to untie him. Darius grabbed her wrist and stayed her.
“Mr. Howland suffers from the delusion that if we educate Lord Vance in the evil of his actions, he will stop his trade.”
“He will!” James insisted. “People want to do the right thing when their errors are made known to them.”
“That’s mad,” Kira said before she could stop herself.
The look James threw her could only be termed hurt.
Gavin glared at Darius. “Certainly you could have talked some sense into James, rather than binding him.”
“Surveiling Vance has taken up a considerable amount of my time. I had to choose between reasoning with your cousin or stopping the cruel rogue. No doubt you understand my choice.”
“Even so, this is barbarous!” Gavin gestured to James’s bonds. “Release him.”
Darius did not move an inch. “Who will watch him while you and I trap Lord Vance tonight? Do you think that if your cousin truly wanted loose so that he could preach God’s word of forsaking sin to Lord Vance that Kira alone could stop him?”
Gavin cursed, then strode to James. “I will speak to him. But he will not remain tied.”
“Start speaking. Mr. Howland cannot have an opportunity to confront our prey before we do.”
Nodding, Gavin released the ropes about James’s wrists. When the clergyman rose to his feet, rubbing his offended flesh, he shot Darius an annoyed glare.
“You are not the gentleman I believed you to be.”
James’s insult did not seem to bother Darius in the least. “And you lack an understanding of the world that is dange
rous.”
Gavin felt oddly glad about the exchange. If Darius disapproved of James as Kira’s choice of a husband, perhaps there would be no wedding after all. Aunt Caroline would be happy, scandal would be averted, and Kira and James would be saved from making the biggest mistake of their lives. Besides, the thought of Kira and his cousin married truly made him ill.
The sentiment was unfair, Gavin knew. He didn’t want Kira to spend her life as a spinster dependent on her brother’s goodwill. He wanted her happiness. But he also knew deep down that James could not provide her joy. Giving her up while discouraging an unhappy union with James—those were the right things to do, given the circumstance.
Then why didn’t he feel good about them? Truth told, he felt like a bloody unhappy bastard.
Darius addressed Gavin, interrupting his reverie. “Come with me. We’ll need to form a strategy for tonight.”
Gavin hesitated. “Do you mean to leave my cousin and your sister alone, without a chaperone?”
He knew he was being ridiculous. If anyone was unlikely to improperly touch Kira before marriage, it was James. Still, the thought of leaving her alone with her fiancé… He simply didn’t like it. His reaction was foolish, he knew. He’d recklessly come to regard Kira as his—and he was going to have to stop.
Darius sent him a narrow-eyed stare, hazel eyes giving little away. “Let’s settle this now.” He turned to his sister. “You two stay here.”
Darius exited the shack. Reluctantly, Gavin followed, glancing at Kira over his shoulder. Something in his chest flipped when she sent him a tremulous smile.
Though he shouldn’t, he could not resist smiling back.
Outside, Gavin found himself nearly blinded by the spring sunshine as he trailed Darius, who seemed intent on the shade tree in the distance. It looked like too beautiful a day for such turmoil. Despite the beauty of the singing birds and fields dotted with yellow cowslips, he knew this confrontation could not be avoided.