He tapped a set of knuckles against his pantaloon-clad thigh, his scowl as fierce as ever. “Why, indeed? Mayhap because he’s heard we are engaged?”
She made a dismissive noise. “That’s of no matter. I’ve confided in him—with great distress, mind you—that I think you’re loose a few screws on the subject of your war service, and that he’s very forbearing about the whole thing considering how you tried to murder him and all. A flattering comment here, an awestruck question about his heroics there, and he preens like a peacock. I’ve rarely met such a self-absorbed narcissist.”
A muscle flexed in Cade’s jaw. “That self-absorbed narcissist is a master strategist and not to be underestimated, whatever facade you imagine he projects. He’s dangerous, extremely dangerous, and you are to stay away from him, starting now!”
“But I’m making progress. It may not look like it on the surface, but I am convinced I’m on the brink of uncovering a vital clue.”
Cade’s eyes flashed. “The only clue you’ll be uncovering is how to navigate your way in and out of the ballroom at the next party you attend. You will leave this alone, Meg, do you hear?”
She glanced away, brushing her fingertips over the turned back sheets. “Perhaps.”
Abruptly, he caught hold of her shoulders and gave her a little shake. Her gaze flew up to meet his. “There is no ‘perhaps’ about it. You are done playing this game with him. From now on you will have no further contact with Everett.”
“But he’ll know something is amiss if I suddenly stop meeting him. What shall I say?”
“Nothing. You are to cease speaking to him completely. If he approaches you, tell him the Mad Major found out and won’t let you see him anymore.”
“But Cade—”
He shook his head. “But Cade nothing. This is not negotiable. You are out of the espionage business.”
She raised her chin. “I don’t believe that is for you to decide. Besides, a couple minutes ago you were accusing me of passing information to him.”
“A couple minutes ago I didn’t realize just how foolhardy you could be. And stubborn.”
“No more than you.” She paused, unable to help but notice his towering height and lean strength as he stood with barely an inch separating them. He continued to hold her inside his grasp, his fingers around her arms, with no more than the sheer material of her night attire between his flesh and hers. All at once her breath grew shallow, her body growing warm beneath his touch.
“That’s different,” he defended.
“I don’t see how,” she said. “I know what he is.”
His fingers flexed against her arms. “You have no idea what he is, or the barbarous depths to which he will sink in order to gain his own ends. I once had no choice but to stand by and watch him torment and kill a young woman.”
Calida, she realized, seeing the anguish in his expression. Had he loved her so much? Did he love her still?
“I won’t stand by and let him do the same again,” he continued in a gruff, implacable tone.
“To me, you mean?” she asked, shocked by the notion. “He wouldn’t. He couldn’t, not here in London. There are people everywhere. I am perfectly safe.”
He gazed steadily into her eyes, his own burning with a glittering intensity. “Crowds do not ensure protection. But you will be safe because you’re going to stay away from him. I want your promise.”
He inched closer, near enough for her to catch the scent of his skin; an appealing mix of clean, male sweat and the lingering fragrance of the sandalwood soap he preferred. She drew a breath and found more—a subtle quality that was Cade himself. The discovery made her quiver deep inside, then again, as she fought the urge to lean forward and press her nose against the side of his neck.
Her nightgown and robe whispered around her legs as she moved backward, her calves coming to rest against the satin-covered mattress behind her. “I…I won’t go riding with him anymore. I promise that he and I will not be alone together again.”
His thumbs stroked the upper curve of her arms. “It makes me ill to think you’ve been alone with him at all. How could you put yourself in his power?”
“I didn’t…I…” But even as she spoke she realized that in a way she had done that very thing by agreeing to meet Everett in the park at such an early hour, when very few people were around. And lately she had gone there without a groom. Perhaps she’d been overconfident and unwise. Yet still, nothing untoward had occurred.
As if he were once more reading her mind, he gave her a light, scolding shake. “To think what might have happened. He could have done anything he wanted with no one there to stop him. The very idea makes my blood run cold.”
Releasing his grip on one of her shoulders, he slid his palm up and around the side of her neck. “I don’t know what I’d like to do more…” he said, drawing the edge of his thumb along the underside of her jaw.
Her pulse resumed its earlier crazy dance, her heart hammering in such swift, hard strokes that she knew he must surely feel the heavy beat of it throbbing under her skin.
“…throttle you,” he murmured, his fingers playing over her throat, “or…”
A dizzy wave swept over her. “Or what?”
He stared into her eyes, the seconds stretching one into the next. Slowly, his gaze roved lower, gliding over her nose and cheeks, then downward to linger like a whispered sigh against her mouth.
Her lips parted on a breathless inhale.
“Or this,” he answered.
And then he showed her, bending his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that was half reprimand, half seduction. She made no demurral, as his lips pressed demandingly against hers, accepting his touch as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As if he came to her bedchamber every night and stood just so, kissing her with a ravenous passion and the promise of more to come.
Tipping his head to one side, he changed the angle of the kiss and urged her to follow his lead. His other palm came up to cup her face and hold her steady for his delectation, pressing her lips open to accept an even deeper embrace. Her head swam, her muscles turning waxen as his tongue glided inside to tease and tempt her.
And tempt her he did, driving away the remnants of her earlier caution and sense of propriety, to replace both with hot, heedless pleasure. Needing to touch him, she curved her arms around him and slipped one palm beneath his silk waistcoat to find his thin cotton shirt and the warm, muscular strength of his back underneath.
Cade shivered, the simple touch of her small hands against him enough to turn him stiff and aching with arousal. From the instant his lips touched hers, he’d known it was a mistake and that he was in too deep before he’d even begun. He wanted her, had been wanting her for an interminable span of days…weeks…months now.
He hadn’t come here this evening with seduction in mind, but rather, with condemnation and contempt. When he’d learned of her clandestine meetings with Everett, he’d been consumed with rage and, yes, betrayal—her apparent deceit enough to drive out every honest belief he had ever held about her. What else could it be? He’d asked himself. Either she was a traitor beguiling him with her wiles, as she worked some plan against him. Or worse, she was a fool who’d allowed Everett to manipulate her and draw her into his web. The thought that she might even have let Everett touch her had driven him wild, so that he’d been pacing like a caged beast tonight while waiting for her to return home.
But she had shattered all his assumptions, turning the tables on him in such a way that he’d had no choice but to accept the truth. He felt ashamed now to have doubted her, especially knowing she’d accepted his word against Everett with no proof at all. She believed him. How he revelled to hear her swear her trust in him. How he quaked to realize the danger in which she had placed herself for him.
Then he’d simply had to have a taste of her, just one small sip before he cut himself off from the source. Like strong spirits, she was another intoxicant he knew he needed to give up
for his own good—and for hers. But even as he told himself to release her, he couldn’t, the hot satin of her mouth too delicious to resist, the glide of her tongue like a benediction for his soul.
Just one more minute, he told himself. Just one last kiss.
Deepening their embrace, he kissed her harder, trying to wring every last ounce of pleasure out of the moment. She hummed low in her throat and returned his ardour, arching against him with a sinuous slide that nearly dropped him to his knees. Her beautiful, pale hair flowed around her shoulders like a sleek curtain. Tangling his fingers into her tresses, he stroked the golden length, then turned his face into its fragrant softness. Breathing in the heady scents of honey and woman, he closed his eyes and fought his hunger.
And what a hunger it was, the ache to have her riding him more powerful than ever. He trembled and struggled to make himself relinquish her. But her sweet little palms began to rove over him, one hand gliding up over his shoulders and the back of his neck before she threaded her fingers into his hair.
Abruptly, he raised his head and began to move away, tapping into some unknown reserve of strength. But Meg hardly seemed to notice his resistance, her cheeks flushed, her lips moist and rosy from his kisses, the silvery blue of her eyes hazy with undisguised passion.
God help me, he thought.
Reaching up, she brushed aside the edge of his unbuttoned shirt collar to reveal the scar encircling his throat. He tensed, for the first time truly caring what she saw, and whether it repulsed her. He was about to withdraw when she prevented him with a single, delicate touch. Using only the tip of her finger, she traced the shape and path of the mark from one side to the other.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
“No,” he croaked, his voice so thick and rough he scarcely recognized it as his own. “Not anymore.”
“But it must have hurt when it happened. It must have been agony.”
He didn’t answer; he couldn’t, particularly not after she leaned forward and replaced her fingertip with her lips, kissing him there with a tenderness that proved his complete undoing. Air squeezed like a bellows from his lungs, blood running hot and thick to pool in his groin.
His senses scattered as he felt the last vestiges of his conscience drift away like so much faerie dust, his need for her far greater than his resolve. Spearing his fingers up into her hair, he twined the skeins around his wrist and tugged her face up, plundering her mouth in a fiery assault that left her gasping and clinging. Using his tongue to skilful effect, he made passionate forays between her lips that were alternately fast and frenzied, then slow and sultry, keeping them both poised on a needle’s edge of passionate madness.
Maybe I am mad, he thought as he broke their kiss long enough to slide her robe from her shoulders. Mad to want her so. Insane to take what I have no right to possess. The thought slowed him for an instant as he moved to open the brief row of buttons on her nightgown, pausing while he slipped the first one free of its mooring.
Bending, he pressed his lips against her jaw and neck, scattering kisses over her skin before he moved to catch her earlobe between his teeth. He blew softly against her and felt her answering shiver. “Make me stop,” he entreated. “Send me away.”
Meg swayed, his words coming as if from a distance even though she stood inside his arms. Giddy with desire, she could barely think, needing his mouth on hers again, his hands caressing her skin.
Send him away? She pondered. Why would she do that? How could she, when she wanted him more than her next breath? More even than her life? How could she let him go when she loved him? And suddenly, in that instant, she knew the truth of the thought, the strength of the emotion.
Oh, heavens, how could I not have known before? How could I not have realized that I love Cade Byron?
Wanting only to be with him, as close as she could manage regardless of the risks, she turned her face and kissed his cheek, his mouth. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
Something fiery and fierce burned in his eyes, turning them as bright as molten green glass. Then he gave her no further time to think, his hands working open the placket of buttons on her nightgown, nearly tearing them off in his haste. Shoving the loosened cloth down over her shoulders, he cupped her naked breasts in his hands, fondling her with a touch that bordered on the reverent. He made circles with his thumbs, rousing the tips to taut peaks before he leaned down to take her in his mouth.
She gasped against the pleasure as he kissed and licked and suckled, keen desire rising to settle between her legs, together with an aching emptiness that begged to be filled and appeased. Raking his teeth over her, she cried out, his tongue darting out to soothe her tormented flesh. Long moments later he raised his head and claimed her mouth again in a fervid mating, his hips arching against her own in a way that left her in no doubt of the intensity of his arousal. Then, as though he’d had all he could endure for the moment, he urged her backward onto the bed.
Quivering from the series of hot and cold chills racing over her body, she complied, stretching out across the sheets, her head sideways next to the pillows rather than on them. Dazedly, she watched as he tore at his waistcoat, a pair of buttons flying free to bounce across the floor. He seemed not to care in the least as he stripped off the garment, his shirt coming next, then his shoes, which he toed off with a pair of soft thumps.
She waited in a welter of expectation, a part of her eager to see what lay inside his pantaloons, the rest unsure, fearing her reaction should the sight prove intimidating. After all, he was a large man. What if he was more than she anticipated? What if she wasn’t enough?
But he granted her no further time for such uncertain musings, leaving his pantaloons safely fastened as he set the knee of his good leg on the bed and stretched himself beside her. Arching over her, he feasted on her mouth, drawing her fast and deep into a realm where nothing mattered except the astonishing beauty of his embrace. She moaned against his lips, the sound reverberating like a delicious purr inside their joined mouths. He smiled and kissed her harder, deeper, drawing forth everything she had and more.
All the while, his hands stayed busy, trailing over her skin with long, gliding strokes that made her body grow hot and moist, her limbs shifting in restless need against his own. He captured one of her legs, stilling her for a moment so he could fit his own between hers. Sliding upward, he insinuated his thigh against the part of her that ached the most, then rubbed, her nightgown bunched between her flesh in a way that only increased her craving.
Abandoning her mouth, he dappled kisses over her face and neck, across her collarbone and shoulders, before scattering a tantalizing line of them between her breasts. Burying his face against her, he reached up to caress one rounded globe with his hand, while he paid homage to the other with teeth and tongue and lips. At length he switched one for the other.
Not to be left out, she caressed him as well, eliciting a groan, then a shudder when she traced the broad shape of his arms and shoulders, then down the long, powerful line of his back. She gloried in the sensations, delighting in her exploration as she discovered firm, corded muscle covered by smooth, supple skin. Growing bolder, she let her fingers glide low, then lower still, pausing to slip underneath the edge of his waistband. She played her fingers along the dip at the base of his spine, her touch drawing a ragged moan from his throat.
With an uncontrolled movement, he ground his erection against her hip, then angled his thigh higher and harder between her legs. She writhed in response, broken sighs escaping her lips as he widened his mouth to suckle more intensely against her breast, his clever hands cupping and stroking her in ways that increased her delight still more. Growing nearly insensible under his ministrations, time floated away like a ribbon caught in a breeze, her senses spinning out of control.
Without warning, he levered himself away, a rush of cool air flowing over her at the loss of his warmth. Reaching down, he seized her nightgown and yanked it off over her hea
d, baring her fully to his gaze.
With a reflexive sense of modesty, she moved her hands to cover herself. But he stayed her with a touch, urging her to relax and leave her arms at her sides. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, the expression in his eyes one of pure admiration. “I’ve imagined you like this, but my dreams failed to do you justice.”
Laying a large, gentle palm against her stomach, he smoothed his touch over her body in a way that sent her pulse into a wild, dangerous skid. He roamed over her hips and thighs, trailing downward to circle her knees and caress her calves, even her ankles. She was trembling by the time he retraced his path, a loud gasp rattling from her lips when he stroked the soft length of her inner thighs—up and around, then up and around again. With a quiet pause, he let his hand come to rest just below the triangle of blond curls that concealed her most tender flesh.
“Cade?” she said in a strained tone.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded. “Close your eyes and let me please you.”
“But you have…you do.”
“Good. Then let me please you more.” Parting her, he eased a finger inside and began to stroke.
She arched, inadvertently driving him even farther inside. Her body responded, sending down a rush of wetness that made his caresses that much easier, that much more inviting. As he’d asked, she let her eyelids flutter closed, her head rolling against the sheets, while need coiled hot as a brand through her belly and between her legs. Unable to govern her reaction, her breath came in fast, little pants, her legs parting as he continued his deep inner massage.
Leaning up, he caught her mouth in a slow, ravishing kiss, tangling his tongue with hers in an imitation of what he was doing to her below. She gave a muffled cry when he added another finger, filling her in a way that drove her right to the edge. A few strokes later a swirling flick of his thumb sent her hurtling over, her fingers clenching in his hair as she shook with release.
But he wasn’t done, stoking her desire with deep, open-mouthed kisses that made her moan, his fingers building her need once more so that she could do nothing but yearn, held utterly in his thrall until he finally took mercy and sent her flying yet again.
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