Rogues and Ripped Bodices

by Samantha Holt

  Nails scraping across his chest, frantic sounds escaped her every time he rammed up into her. Her body grew tight, every muscle clenched in anticipation. A tingle of perspiration tickled down her back and she noted Lucian’s muscles had grown slick.

  “Lucian, Lucian, oh God...”

  “That’s it, my love.” He rested his thumb at the juncture of her thighs and her movements meant her sensitive nub worked against that coarse thumb.

  Those words and his touch spurred her to the edge. She closed her eyes then and may well have screamed loud enough that the whole of England heard her, but sounds were muted. Only his rasping breaths registered. Stars burst behind her lids and she sucked in a sharp breath to hold it while her body shuddered of its own accord. Warmth flooded her veins.

  When she finally drew in another breath, Lucian gave her little time to catch it. He rolled her over, disengaging only long enough to settle between her legs and hook them around his hips. He lunged into her with ferocious savagery.

  Ellie buried her head against his shoulder as she accepted his lovemaking. His muscles tensed under her hands and his breathing grew erratic. Through the haze of her orgasm, she relished every breath and tremor of his strong body. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought of Lucian like this—desperate and vulnerable in her arms.

  His strong body shuddered and he released a strangled noise that sounded remarkably like her name. He withdrew and hot seed touched her thighs. Ellie lifted her head to see his crumpled expression and her heart stretched impossibly wide. Unable to stop herself, she stroked a hand over his hair as if he were a child. When he opened his eyes, she feared she might have ruined everything, that this was it, they were done and he had no more use for her.

  But a smile broke across his face and he dropped a kiss to her lips before moving away and reaching for a washcloth.

  Ellie stretched her arms and took the moment to enjoy the sight of his firm bottom while he dipped the cloth in the washbowl and came back to clean her up. Heat surged into her cheeks at the thought of him touching her so intimately. It did not matter that he had just been buried inside her or that he had kissed her there...

  Oh Lord, he had kissed her there.

  But that was different. She had been swept aside by lust. Though desire still lingered very strongly, she didn’t have that warm haze surrounding her anymore. Now she recalled that she was a bony thing and her hair was likely in disarray and her rouge would be gone. She reached for the sheets to draw them over her, but Lucian gripped her wrist and flung aside the washcloth.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Already?”

  Lucian chuckled and drew her to him. “Not quite. But give me a few moments to enjoy you and it will not take long.”

  Ellie was powerless to do anything but accept his kisses and enjoy the swirl of excitement in her stomach at the thought of more Lucian.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Afterglow

  Was there a certain lightness to his step as Lucian walked out of the hotel? Perhaps there was. It was a little embarrassing but he could not bring himself to care. The street was dark with no traffic. He had been loath to leave her and, in fact, she had begged him not to, but he wouldn’t shame her by sneaking out of her room in the daylight. Better to leave her now and leave her reputation intact, regardless of how hard it was to pry himself away from that sweet, soft body.

  Lucian pushed a hand through his hair and winced when one of his muscles pulled. He’d not made love like that for years—even before the fire really. Ellie was one demanding lady. Who’d have thought?

  Well, perhaps he should have known. The Ellie he had once known had taken full advantage of every moment in life and, he had to admit, he liked that side of her very much. The hours until he was back in her bed tonight were going to be long indeed.

  Torn between returning to his townhouse and resting as he should, or going to the mill and getting a head start on the day, he opted for the mill. In spite of endless lovemaking, energy still burned through his body. If he had to, he would finish early and take a nap before visiting Ellie. Lord knows, he would need the energy.

  It took him twenty minutes of walking through the backstreets to get to the mill. Smoke hung in the air but the streets were blessedly quiet. The inns would have emptied hours ago and only a few windows released a golden glow onto the cobbles.

  Lucian unlocked the gate and drew it shut before locking it again. He stuffed the keys into his coat pocket and made his way to the office. The quiet would disturb him normally. He had come to relish the clatter of the machines. It gave him something to concentrate on. No one seemed to realise how much the fire had cost him. How could he continue being the consummate rake with a face and a body like his? Though it didn’t seem to bother Ellie.

  A grin crept across his face as he thought of her curled up and warm and soft beneath the bedding.

  Still, the accident had done one thing. Turned his attention to his father’s investments. And the mill was one place he could make a difference. Most of the other schemes ran themselves and none were threatening to collapse beneath him. Every person who had known his father spoke of his business acumen, and Lucian had to prove himself as capable.

  He paused at the top step when he spotted a spark of light in one of the windows. One of the foremen perhaps? No, why would they be here at four in the morning? He scowled. A thief more likely and a damn brave one. They’d have had to scale the gates to get in.

  Lucian strode in the direction of the mill and found one of the doors open, unlocked. What the devil? He entered slowly, aware he had no weapon on him. He liked his chances in a fair fight but not in a dark mill with an unknown would-be assailant.

  A shuffle drew his attention to the rear of the mill and he peered into the darkness, past the motionless looms. Cotton dust swirled in the air, telling him someone was in there. He took another step forwards and a sudden flare of light had him reeling back. The flash of a figure dashed across the back of the room and he swore aloud when he realised the light was coming from the cotton bales.

  Fire.

  Bloody hell. He had to put it out.

  He raced over and tore off his frock coat. The flames were not large but cotton went up easily, as he well knew. He threw the garment over the flames and stomped until he was sure there was no chance of the flames restarting. The smell of singed cotton and sack hung in the air and his arm itched with remembrance.

  Peeling back the coat, he flung it aside and inspected the damage in the dim light. The bale had hardly caught thankfully, but he had lost the person responsible for the fire. Damnation. He strode out of the back door and peered around but he knew the blackguard would be long gone.

  “What the bloody hell...?” he asked himself.

  Something odd was going on. For a mill with such a low record of accidents, too many had happened and now someone had tried to set fire to the place. That was no accident.

  Three hours later, he had his head foreman in his office. His dour expression likely matched his own.

  “I’m going to hire some security for the nights. Are you sure none of the men have seen anyone suspicious?”

  “Nothing, my lord,” said Mr Fuller. “If the criminal was here last night, chances are they entered at night.”

  “And they’re a fine lock picker. And saboteur. I don’t know why we did not see it before.”

  “Machinery goes wrong, my lord. We had no reason to think otherwise.”

  Lucian rubbed his itchy eyes. The smoke and lack of sleep had taken its toll and though the bobbies had been, they could offer no answers. They promised to patrol past the mill at night but they had a whole town to look after.

  He had already spoken with a rough character his foreman knew who could hire several aggressive types to look after the mill. He didn’t relish having that type of man around but better them than someone wanting to burn the place do
wn. And now they had looked into the previous accidents it seemed clear they were deliberate. Why had he not seen it before?

  Lucian pinched his nose. Because he had been so intent on keeping the place running and fighting his attraction to Ellie. He’d failed on the latter but the mill was still afloat. Just.

  Nothing more could go wrong. They would never catch up on the orders if something did and if whoever this person was succeeded in burning the place, there would be no salvaging it. Who was it?

  “Fuller, can you think of anyone who might wish to close the mill? An ex-worker perhaps?”

  The older man shook his head. “No, not off the top of my head. You have a good reputation, my lord. It would be far more likely one of the other mills would have disgruntled workers.”

  “Well, keep your ear to the ground.”

  “Of course.”

  Fuller left, leaving Lucian staring at the ledger for the week. Ellie would probably want to look over it, nosey little chit. In spite of everything, the thought made him smile.

  Pushing back his chair, he scraped two hands through his hair and made to put on his coat only to remember it had suffered a stomping on and a fire. He pulled down his rolled up sleeves and strode out into the courtyard. Lucian slid past a cart with fresh bales of cotton on and stepped into the mill.

  This time the rattle of machines washed over him and the workers touched their caps in greeting as he strode past to the back of the room. The police had already inspected the scene but found nothing. No evidence of the intruder. Could it have been an accident, they asked. A figment of his imagination? Had he been smoking? Devil take it, he did not even smoke. He had enough vices as it was and now they were treating this as though he was blind and not just scarred.

  He rubbed a hand over his arm when his skin itched again. The blackened remains of a cotton bale remained. He’d have to get someone to clear it up. But, wait a moment?

  He grabbed one of the nearby workers. “Was this how it was this morning?”

  “The bales, my lord?”

  “Yes, the bales.”

  “Aye, my lord. We’ve not touched it. Did not know if you wanted to keep it for evidence or summat.”

  “Right, my thanks.” Lucian nodded distractedly and waved the man away.

  The bales puzzled him. They would normally be stacked much higher and they’d only had a recent delivery but these were set apart from the rest and were only a few high. As though a great blaze had never been the intention. But why set a fire if the purpose was not to burn the place down?

  He rubbed the back of his neck. If only he wasn’t so tired, then maybe he could figure this puzzle out. No doubt Ellie would have some smart answers for him, but he was not sure he wanted her involved. She had been harmed once before and he was loath to let anything happen to her. Not to mention, he could do without her distracting him as she had the past months.

  Well, at least he’d burn through his attraction to her before long. Maybe he’d regain his focus then. He pictured her milky skin against the purple bedding and tried to shake away the image. Or perhaps not.

  Chapter Twenty

  More Berry Red

  The day had been uneventful for Eleanor. She had risen late, shopped a little and poured over the few books from the mill she had brought with her. Something was still striking her as odd but she could not put her finger on it. With no friends in town, she had little else to occupy her but it did strike her as a little miserable to be sitting in her hotel room, pouring over accounts.

  Not that her smile would leave her face or even let her lament the fact she still knew few people in England. Her thighs ached and her body felt beautifully used. Had she dreamed the whole thing? It was hard to believe she’d bedded Lucian, one of the most infamous rakes in Yorkshire. And he had been beautifully tender and passionate—even amusing at times.

  She tapped her fingers on the book and glanced at the small gilded clock on the console table. A bubble of excitement welled in her chest. She had forced herself not to count down the hours but he would be here soon. It was so deliciously naughty to be sitting in one’s nightclothes waiting for a lover. She was not wearing her drawers again and only the soft brush of silk kept her clothed.

  Maggie, her lady’s maid had accompanied her and was staying in the lower rooms, and had helped her pick out an attractive garment to wear. If she thought her depraved for such behaviour, the maid certainly did not show it, not when she was encouraging her to buy the shocking red silk garment.

  Eleanor thought she had become quite adept at only wearing flattering gowns and nightwear, but none suited her like this one. With her hair caught up in its usual curls and the red silk caressing her body and dropping low to reveal the curves of her breasts, she thought she could almost be attractive.

  What would Lucian think?

  She blew out a breath and put the books aside so as to stand and view herself in the full length mirror. Was it her imagination or did she look more grown up? No sign of little Ellie Browning here. She laughed at her reflection. One night of lovemaking did not change one’s appearance, but funny how one night did more than seven years of marriage and travelling. People often travelled to find oneself, she thought, but what if she had simply become more lost and with Lucian, she found herself?

  Strolling to the dressing table, she dabbed on a little perfume and laughed at herself again. “Ellie, you must be out of your wits.”

  Finding herself with a consummate rake and the man who had once hurt her terribly? Unlikely. But Lucian had changed. His unselfishness in bed was a demonstration of that, and did she not know how hard he worked now? The only thing the old Lucian worked hard at was seducing beautiful widows.

  A rap at the door made her heart bound. She paused to take a sip of wine from the glass on the silver tray on the round table. She had ordered some food too but she had no idea if Lucian would be hungry. She certainly wasn’t. Not for food at least.

  Eleanor swallowed and drew open the door, butterflies beating in her chest. Her limbs felt warm and weak. A tilted smile greeted her, then wide eyes and a deep darkening of his gaze. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his necktie loose. He did not even seem to care that his scarred arm was revealed. Fatigue haunted his expression, making the lines around his eyes more distinct and his hair looked as though he had been shoving his hands repeatedly through it.

  But he was still as handsome as ever.

  He let out a low whistle. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie...”

  “Are you coming in?”

  He stepped in and kicked the door shut with his foot. She gulped as his grin turned wicked and any hint of fatigue seemed to drop from him. In its place was desire—pure and unadulterated desire. For her.

  She twined her hands in front of her and, as he took a step forwards, she took one step back. It terrified and excited her at the same time—this overwhelming desire. What to do with it?

  What other choice did she have?

  They stepped forwards at the same moment. Silk met a cotton shirt and his hands immediately went into her hair, shaking loose pins and gripping her head fiercely. She dug her fingers into his neck and felt her nipples harden against him. She barely had time to draw breath before his mouth was upon her. He tasted of whisky and smelled smoky, as though he had been sitting near an open fire all day. And she could not get enough of him.

  “Oh, Ellie,” he murmured between kisses.

  “Lucian,” she responded, the word husky.

  “I’ve been thinking of nothing else all day,” he said while he trailed hot kisses down the side of her face and throat, before seeking her mouth once more.

  His tongue thrust impatiently into her mouth and she met him, touch for touch, kiss for kiss. Heat licked over every part of her body and need consumed her. Eleanor swept her hands up and down his back, and felt the rippling muscles and tension there.

  “What are you wearing?” he muttered as he took a moment to nip down her neck to her breasts.

  Sh
e lifted a shoulder, unable to answer as he brought his mouth down over the silk to draw a nipple into his mouth. Eleanor gasped at the welcome relief it brought and clutched his head to her.

  “You...you like it?”

  “Very, very much. Too much. How am I to keep my wits about me?”

  “You do not need your wits.”

  “I always need my wits about me in your presence,” he said against her breasts, “but I cannot keep them with you around.” Lucian drew straight and stood back to eye her, his hands to her shoulders. “I should like to remember you just like this?”

  “Desperate and wanting?”

  He let out an astonished laugh. “I thought you a lady, Countess, but it appears I was wrong. And I am so very grateful I was, but I have come straight from the mill. I had intended to wash and change before coming to you, yet I didn’t.”

  “I care not. Lucian, don’t make me wait.”

  “I smell of smoke and dust.”

  “You smell lovely.”

  “Lovely? Hmmm. That is not very masculine.”

  “Lucian,” she said, frustration tingeing her voice. How could he stand there, staring at her when she felt she might explode into flames at any moment if he did not touch her?

  “The countess wants something.” His lips quirked.

  “Yes, you!”

  “So I must oblige.”

  He closed the gap once more and coaxed her mouth open beneath his. He didn’t have to do much coaxing. She accepted his tongue willingly and relished the warm taste of him. His hands found her rear and with one easy movement, he had her lifted and her legs wrapped about him. In his arms, she felt delicate and feminine. Raw strength surrounded her and even though he complained of smelling smoky, it only added to his appeal.

  Eleanor gripped his hair and kissed him furiously. She did not think she would ever get enough of his kisses. She wanted this affair to last forever.

  Lucian stumbled a little as the kiss deepened and she gasped when the wall met her back.