Determined to appear nonchalant, Brynn shrugged her shoulders and went to the mahogany side table, where the tray bearing the crystal wine decanter and goblets rested. When she had poured two glasses, she crossed the bedchamber to Lucian and offered him the drugged one.
For another endless moment, he stared at the bloodred wine. She could feel her heart pounding as she waited for him to drink. Why did he hesitate?
Relief flooded her when he took a sip, and Brynn silently cursed herself. She had to strive for composure or her agitation would give her away. Unlike Lucian, she was an amateur at intrigue. He had matched wits against countless traitors and would certainly grow suspicious if she couldn’t behave naturally, as if she wanted to make love to him.
As it was, he regarded her with evident gravity, and there was a fine tension in his lean, muscled body-or was the tension merely in her because of what she was about to do?
When Lucian continued to watch her, Brynn averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes any longer. She loathed herself for her betrayal.
“Is the wine to your taste?” Brynn made herself say, forcing herself to sip from her own glass.
“Yes. But then the French do make the finest wines.”
She glanced up sharply, not knowing why he had mentioned the French. Did he suspect her perfidy? Brynn wondered. Or was he referring to her brother’s smuggling? Lucian’s eyes glittered with sexual interest yet hid every other emotion brilliantly.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” he queried.
“I hoped you would warm me.”
She saw his gaze darken responsively at her provocative reply, and for the first time in her life Brynn was glad for the curse that made her irresistible to men. She would need every advantage she possessed if she intended to use Lucian’s lust for her own purposes, for despite his obvious sexual attraction for her, he didn’t seem in an amorous mood.
“Why don’t you stir the fire,” he said, “while I close the draperies?”
Nodding, Brynn crossed to the hearth while Lucian turned and went to one of the windows. She knelt there, feeling the heat from the glowing flames on her bare skin, wishing it could warm the frigid ache in her heart as well.
Glancing over her shoulder, she watched from across the room as Lucian closed the drapery and moved to the final window, where he stood looking out and drinking from his glass. Brynn hesitated, wondering exactly how she should distract him until he succumbed to the drug.
Steeling herself, she rose and went to join Lucian, coming up behind him. Outside the window, a chill sliver of moon hung low on the black horizon, partly obscured by ghostly, scudding clouds. A blustery wind blew off the sea; she could hear waves beating against the rocky shore below.
A good night for treason.
Inside, however, the bedchamber was warm and hushed.
“Are you still angry with me?” she murmured in an effort to capture Lucian’s attention.
He snapped the drapes shut and turned to face her. Involuntarily her gaze went to his glass that was now only one-third full. Her relief was profound, yet she still had a role to play; she couldn’t stop until Lucian was sleeping soundly.
She pasted an enticing smile on her face. Her finger dipped into his wine, then rose to glide along his lower lip. “How can I assuage your anger, Lucian?”
“I think you know, love.”
Her focus dropped below his waist. The stockinet fabric of his evening breeches clung to his powerful thighs, stretched taut over his erection. An immediate, quivering response rippled through Brynn, along with a momentary spark of elation. He might still be angry with her, but he wanted her.
Determined to arouse him further, she slowly, provocatively slid her fingers into the waistband of his breeches. When he gave no response, Brynn relieved him of his wineglass and set it down along with her own. Then she began to undo the buttons of the front placket.
Her heart was thudding in her chest when she opened his drawers to expose the stiff erection that stirred so eagerly between his thighs. With a tempting smile, she closed her caressing fingers around the base of his pulsing arousal and sank down to kneel at his feet.
His jaw was set rigidly, Brynn saw when she glanced up at Lucian. He was still fighting her, and yet he was blatantly aroused, the rigid rod thrusting high, the rampant head gleaming in the lamplight.
Wanton heat coiled through her body to throb inside her, contrasting strangely with the ache in her heart.
Letting her fingers stroke him, Brynn leaned closer to press her lips along his shaft, tasting the marble-smooth skin. Lucian jerked when she kissed him there, and a flaring excitement ignited inside her at the familiar, erotic feel of him.
She attended him lingeringly. His skin felt hot, searing, as she softly ran her tongue around the swollen head… the sensitive ridge below… Then her lips closed around his shaft to take him more fully in her mouth.
She felt Lucian tense with pleasure as she suckled him. He was obviously fighting for control now.
His now-rigid erection thickened still more as she explored him further with her mouth and tongue, tasting the slick, velvet contours, making love to the most intimate part of him. Lucian had been the one to teach her this-how to use her carnal skills to such devastating effect. He had shown her pleasures of the flesh, led her to embrace her woman’s passion…
She felt him shudder, but she continued deliberately to arouse him, her teeth softly raking. She knew a moment of triumph when he groaned at her ministrations.
“Am I paining you?” she murmured tauntingly against his flesh.
“Yes,” he said, his own voice hoarse. “Dire pain.”
“Should I stop?”
“No, siren…”
When her lips slid down his shaft again, his hands curled in her hair and he strained against her mouth, his breathing harsh and ragged. His desire for her had always been fierce, and she used it mercilessly against him now.
She heard her name hoarsely whispered, felt him shaking. When he clutched at her shoulders, Brynn shuddered with pleasure herself. She was nearly as aroused as Lucian, her body pulsing, her feminine hollows wet with desire, yearning to merge with his hard male flesh. She had intended to seduce him, but she was caught up in her own game. When she glanced up at him, she knew his passion-hazed eyes mirrored her own.
“Lucian,” she breathed, shredding the last of his control.
Urgently he drew her to her feet and lifted her up. His lips came down upon hers with hot, wet heat, his mouth feverishly capturing hers as she wrapped her legs around his hips.
Carrying her to the bed, he lowered her to the silk sheets and followed her down, pressing himself between her welcoming thighs. For a space of several heartbeats, then, he hesitated, holding Brynn’s rapt gaze.
His face was so incredibly beautiful in the flickering candlelight, his features taut with desire and what strangely looked like pain. When he curved his hand to her throat, Brynn stirred restlessly beneath him, wondering why he delayed.
“Please… I want you, Lucian,” she whispered hoarsely.
He obliged her, sliding the engorged crest of his erection into her pulsing cleft slick with the liquid evidence of her own need.
She was wet and eager for him. Hungrily she wrapped her legs around his, clutching him to her as he thrust into her, driving his powerful member deep within her hot, throbbing flesh. Her arms tightened around him, and she opened to him fully, desperate to take him deep, to fill herself with his essence, even as she battled her heart.
The blaze between them erupted into a firestorm, violent, fierce, raging. Lucian shuddered again and groaned, his body contracting savagely as he spilled his seed deep within her body. His explosion shattered Brynn. She arched helplessly beneath him, convulsing wildly as wave after wave of ecstasy hit her, cries of bliss tearing from her throat, tears of anguish dredged from her eyes.
She was weeping, Brynn realized when her brutal climax at last subsided. Shaking with l
ove and pain that mingled into a tangled, razor-edged knot inside her.
In the turbulent aftermath, they lay together, gasping for breath. Their lovemaking had never been so potent, so powerful… so agonized.
His lips pressed against her hair then, and Brynn felt her heart break. When Lucian eased his weight to one side, her arms tightened around him almost desperately while she buried her face against his shoulder, trying to stifle her tears. Dear God, how she loved him. It was a torment, knowing her love might lead to his death.
She lay there a long while, struggling with remorse, with regrets. If only she didn’t have to betray him. If she could have kept her heart detached. If she had never wed him in the first place…
When eventually Lucian’s breathing grew even, Brynn drew back so that she could see his face. His eyes were closed, as if he were in a drugged stupor.
“Lucian?” she whispered.
She waited several more long moments before finally untangling her limbs from his and easing away. Lucian lay there, unmoving, as if dead to the world. But at least he wasn’t dead. She couldn’t bear to lose him to death.
Wiping the tears from her face, Brynn dragged in a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to leave the bed. She couldn’t think about Lucian any further now. Nor did she dare tarry. She had to try to stop her brother from committing treason, to try to foil the real traitors.
Her plan was desperate, but it might just work. Grayson had told her the gold was hidden in the caves below the house, that the smugglers planned to retrieve their contraband tonight. She doubted they could act without Grayson’s presence, though, or even be able to find the strongboxes without his direction, for surely he would have concealed them well.
If she could just keep Gray away until after high tide, then the gold would be safe tonight. She could reveal its location to the local authorities on the morrow, without implicating her brother. Then Lucian could recover the strongboxes without risking his life, and Gray could escape his vicious blackmailers-
He and Theo would have to go into hiding, of course, and she would go with them. She and Gray could leave tonight. They would collect Theo from school and flee somewhere safe…
Please, please, merciful God, let her plan work. And help her make Gray see reason. She would have to use dire means to convince him, she had little doubt.
She dressed quickly in her usual smuggler’s attire- an old pair of breeches and boots and a warm woolen jacket. Then she caught up her vivid hair and stuffed it under a seaman’s cap. Finally, with one last, lingering look at her slumbering husband, Brynn put out all the lamps but one. Carrying it with her to light her way, she slipped from the room.
She went directly downstairs to her brother’s study and the cabinet where Gray kept his finer weapons. Setting down her lamp, she withdrew a small wooden case from the cabinet and opened it, expecting to find a matched pair of double-shot pistols.
The case was empty, Brynn saw with alarm, realizing Gray must have taken the weapons. But there was an older pistol toward the rear of the cabinet. With shaking hands, she spent a few precious minutes priming and loading the gun; Grayson himself had taught her how so that she might defend herself against her over amorous suitors if need be.
She had just stuffed the pistol in her belt and shut the cabinet when a beloved voice spoke behind her freezing the blood in her veins.
“Would you care to explain why you left our warm bed and dressed yourself up as a Free Trader, love?”
Chapter Twenty
Her startled gasp loud in the silence, Brynn whirled to find her husband standing in the doorway.
“Lucian,” she rasped.
“You didn’t answer my question, love.” He stood waiting, his features as cold and hard as she had ever seen them.
Brynn stared at Lucian in horror, unable to speak.
When she remained mute, he crossed the room toward her. “Was it poison or something else, Brynn?” His tone was deadly calm.
“ W-what do you mean?”
“Don’t dare lie to me.” His voice held a savage edge. “I’ve had enough of your lies. What did you put in my wine?”
She swallowed hard. “It wasn’t poison.”
“What then?”
“Only a sleeping draught.”
“Only a draught? You attempted to drug me.”
“Y-yes.” Yet Lucian obviously had only pretended to drink, Brynn realized.
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “I had hoped I was wrong.” He stopped before her, his face so dark with anger that she took a step back. “Fool that I am, I prayed you weren’t guilty of treason.”
He moved toward her, his shadow slipping over her as he grasped her arm in a painful grip. Reaching down, Lucian took the pistol from her belt. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you with a weapon.”
Numbly she shook her head, trying to recruit her wits. “Lucian, it isn’t what you think-”
“No?” He gave a sharp laugh. “Then tell me.”
Pulling her arm free, Brynn moved over to a chair and sank down heavily. “I drugged you to keep you safe. I was trying to save your life.”
“Indeed?” His features were set like granite. “You’ll understand if I don’t believe you. You were aiding your brother in treason-keeping me out of the way so he could dispose of the gold.”
“No. I don’t deny I wanted you out of the way, but it was solely to save your life. Grayson said those men… they would kill you if you interfered tonight. I didn’t want you to die. I… I love you, Lucian.”
His very stillness sent a shiver through her. “I told you not to lie, Brynn.”
“I am not lying. I swear it. I fell in love with you, even though I tried desperately not to.”
“How convenient that you just now realize your feelings when you’re seeking to mollify me.”
She closed her eyes wearily. “I didn’t just realize my feelings. The change has been coming over me for weeks. You must believe me, Lucian.”
“Must I? You won’t convince me, Brynn. You’ve lied once too often.”
She shook her head. “If I lied, it was because I had no choice.”
“You had no choice.” The comment held contempt.
“Won’t you even listen to my reasons?”
“Very well. Try to explain your lies. Tell me about my seal ring. You gave it to your brother so he could arrange to steal the gold shipment.”
“That isn’t true! Gray took the ring from your study, yes, but they threatened to kill him if he didn’t comply with their demands.”
“They?”
“A smuggling ring. Gray says they’re vicious. He became involved unwittingly at first, because he needed money to repay our father’s enormous debts and to stave off our creditors. My brother isn’t evil. He just desperately wanted to save our family from penury or worse. He agreed to smuggle a cargo for them, not knowing it was gold. And then they began blackmailing him. He had to give them your seal or they would kill him.”
“Why didn’t you simply tell me?”
“I couldn’t take the risk that you would arrest him. Or that one of you might be hurt if you tried. After what happened between you and Giles…” She saw Lucian wince and continued more quietly. “I admit I wanted to protect my brother, but surely you can understand my feelings. You felt the same way about your friend Giles, you told me so. You grieved for his death. Well, I didn’t want Gray to die, any more than I wanted you to. Or Theo. They have threatened his life as well. And mine, for that matter.”
From the rigidity of Lucian’s jaw, she could tell he had no intention of trying to understand her dilemma.
Her voice dropped to an anguished murmur. “I didn’t know what else to do, Lucian. It has been terrible, feeling torn between people I love.”
He didn’t respond at all to her assertion. “That wasn’t your only lie. A few weeks ago you disappeared, but you weren’t with Raven or Meredith as you claimed. How do you explain that?”
“I visited a G
ypsy fortune-teller at a fair. I hoped to discover if there was a way to break the curse. I couldn’t divulge my purpose to you, Lucian, don’t you see? I couldn’t admit loving you, even to myself.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I was too afraid I would cause your death.”
“But you’re not afraid now?”
“Yes, I’m afraid! But it’s too late. I can’t help my feelings for you.”
He remained silent, his eyes dark and distrustful. “And did your Gypsy know of a remedy?” he asked finally.
“She said… I would have to be willing to give my life for you.”
His mouth curled. “I can’t imagine that happening.”
Brynn looked away, misery choking her. Lucian didn’t believe her, didn’t trust a word she said. Nor could she blame him. She had never done anything to deserve his trust. She had only fought with him and lied to him and tried to drug him…
Bleak despair washed over her. She felt tears streaming down her face, tears that Lucian evidently noticed.
“Weeping won’t sway me, Brynn.”
“I know,” she whispered, fiercely wiping them away.
He hesitated a moment before saying in a deadened voice, “What of the babe? Why did you lie about that?”
Her gaze flew to his.
“You didn’t think I would find out, did you?” Lucian’s eyes were icy and lethal. “Why would you conceal such a revelation from me, Brynn? Because you intended to leave me? You meant to deprive me of my child without even letting me know of his existence?”
She remained mute, unable to refute his accusation.
He ground his teeth, as if striving for control, but for an instant she saw the despair in his blazing, searching eyes. “I waited for you to tell me, Brynn. I hoped… You know how much I wanted a son.” There was a rawness in the quiet words that tore at her heart.
Brynn hung her head. Perhaps she had been wrong to withhold the news of her pregnancy from Lucian; she had robbed him of the joy of finding out from her, of sharing in her great discovery. And yet… “I didn’t dare tell you.”
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