by Anne Renwick
He abandoned his books, moving closer. His heart hammered in his chest. Love. Something he’d never dared hope he’d find in a marriage, but there it was, shining in her eyes. “It nearly killed me to stay away.”
“It was foolish of you to try.” She pulled off one long, black glove and stepped forward closing the distance between them. Reaching out, she threaded her fingers through his hair, her blue eyes full of longing. “I’ve missed you. There’s no one else I want. With you, I don’t have to pretend to be what I’m not. You understand me without even trying.”
Could it be that simple? Why not? He felt the same. Every word she spoke resonated deep within him. He wanted her by his side. Always.
Thornton caught her face in his hands and drew her toward him, catching her lips with his own, pouring his heart into a tender kiss, doing his best to show what he feared words could not express.
He pulled away and stared into her eyes. No more hiding his thoughts from her. “Marry me.” Taking a deep breath, he summoned the words forth. “Not to satisfy a group of stodgy old men, not to please your father, and not to save my laboratory. Marry me because I don’t wish to live without you. You are what’s been missing from my life. With you, I feel alive. Marry me because I love you.” There it was, his heart laid bare, but once he’d begun, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I find you beautiful, intelligent, exciting…”
“Exciting?” A small, teasing smile played about her lips. Her bare hand slid down over his neck, her fingers wrapped about his cravat, tugging as she stepped backward. “Will you show me?”
Desire flared hot and hard. He followed, step by step by step. Her back met the closed door, but still he didn’t stop. Not until his legs—both now working—tangled in her skirts. He reached behind her and flipped the lock, ensuring complete privacy. His fingers began to work free the tiny buttons that held her throat in their grip. He brushed his mouth against her bare neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath his lips. “Say yes, and I’ll show you,” he spoke against her skin. “Right here, against this very door.”
“Now? Is your leg up to it?” Her words came with a hitch in her breath.
“You’ll have to agree to marry me to find out.”
Her low laugh drove him wild. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Gone was any thought of restraint. Buttons flew as he yanked open her bodice. He whispered a word of praise when he found that the corset beneath tipped her taut nipples upward.
She gasped as he closed his lips about one rosy peak, gently nipping. His hand palmed her other breast, rolling another pebbled nipple between his fingers. Her back arched against the door with her cry of encouragement. Then her own hands began to move, tracing a path down his chest to his waistband, tugging. “Please.”
“Patience.” He stepped back, reveling in the image of the woman he loved splayed bare-breasted against his office door as he freed himself. Then, kneeling at her feet, he slid his hands about her booted ankles, lifting her skirts as he moved his palms over tightly laced leather, upward to where they met silk stockings. He lifted the froth of ruffles yet higher and his thumbs brushed against her garters, the bare skin of her inner thighs. Only to be stopped by a silky undergarment edged in lace. “Open for me,” he said, urging her thighs apart.
Her knees nearly buckled as she obliged.
His fingers found the slit in her undergarment, the soft curls underneath. They searched out her cleft and the tight knot of flesh within. He pressed.
Her hips bucked against him. A cry escaped her lips. Parting her swollen flesh, he tasted her wet heat, holding her tight against his mouth as she writhed beneath him.
Her fingers flexed in his hair, tugging. “Stop. No more. Please. I want you inside me. Now.”
Her hands clutched at his shoulders as he stood, gathering her skirts in his fists. Kissing her deeply, pushing her back against the door, he hooked one leg over his arm. With one thrust, he was inside. With another, he was deeper. He swept up her other leg and gripped her hips, surging into her, every last vestige of control lost.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly about his hips, boots against the back of his thighs urged him onward as she moaned in pleasure.
He drove into her over and over, until her body pulsed around him in tight waves. Once, twice more, blood thundering in his ears as his own release tore through him. Lost in the warmth of the woman he loved. A lifetime would not be enough.
For a few long moments, the most he could manage was to breathe. Then, slowly and without releasing her, he untangled their limbs. He lowered himself to the cold, hard floor and pulled her soft warmth over him, stroking the twists of her hair that tumbled across his chest.
He’d set her free to choose—his arm tightened around her as warmth flooded his chest—and she’d chosen him.
Though expected elsewhere, this was where he belonged, with the love of his life in his arms. Always.
~~~
Deep in the bowels of an imposing, official building some distance away, the Duke of Avesbury consulted his pocket watch. Again. “I don’t believe he’s coming,” the duke stated.
Black snickered. Not here anyway.
“Something you’d like to share, Mr. Black?” the duke asked.
“Not really, Your Grace.”
“Hmmph. I hope he realizes his absence will negate our deal.”
Thornton had mentioned a promotion. He’d kept delaying his acceptance, pacing the hospital ward’s hallways, waiting for Lady Amanda to wake from her drugged sleep.
“I suspect, Your Grace, that whatever deal you struck with Lord Thornton is no longer relevant. When I arrived to collect him for the interrogation, he was rather—er—preoccupied with your daughter.”
From a distance, he’d watched Amanda crash through Thornton’s door, slamming it behind her. Black had crept close enough only to confirm sounds of their… reconciliation. Then left with all due haste.
Lucky bastard.
The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Tell Lord Thornton I expect him in my study with news of an engagement before midnight. Or he’ll answer to both me and the board of trustees.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Black fought a smile. He’d guessed right, then.
“Since I’m to lose the earl, perhaps you’d like to take his place?”
“For the interrogation?” Black nodded. “Very much so.”
“If all goes well today, you may consider yourself his replacement on a permanent basis.”
Black’s eyebrows rose. “Thank you, Your Grace. It would be my honor.”
“You may proceed.” The duke waved him forward.
Black walked over to Lady Emily’s side. After today, she and her husband would disappear into a dusty, forgotten corner of Britain. “It seems Lord Thornton won’t be joining us, my lady. Shall we begin?”
Emily nodded. Pulling protective eyewear into place, she poured a final ingredient into a drought she’d prepared earlier. She swirled the blue liquid and a plume of white smoke erupted from the surface.
His hand hesitated.
“No worries,” she said with a sly grin. “It won’t kill her, only loosen her tongue.”
Reflecting that Luca had best keep his wife content, Black accepted the glass and pulled open the heavy door before him. Inside, two agents stood on either side of a chair where a heavily shackled woman sat.
Lady Huntley’s eyes flicked over the contents of the glass.
“Shall we begin?” Black asked, taking no pleasure in the thought of the hours that were to come. His trust, once broken, was impossible to repair. And answers were required. “Or will you speak freely?”
“No. Do your best.” She raised her delicate, pointed chin in the air. “For the Fatherland.”
Hours later, Black had all the information he needed. He and his agents exited the interrogation room, holding the door open for one last visitor.
“Five minutes,” he warned.
&
nbsp; The gypsy nodded. “I’ll only need three,” he said. And winked one blue mechanical eye.
Epilogue
“WALK WITH ME,” her sister said, slipping an arm through Amanda’s, dragging her away from the wedding breakfast crowd.
Ned’s surgery, her spider, had been a resounding success. After five long years, he finally walked without mechanical assistance and, from the crush, it seemed all of London had turned out to witness his most recent walk down the church aisle to make Georgina his bride.
Amanda’s own wedding several weeks earlier had been a small affair held in the front parlor and sparsely attended. “Is something wrong?” she asked as Olivia pulled her into a secluded alcove.
“I’m to be engaged tomorrow,” Olivia stated flatly.
“Has Carlton changed his mind?”
She shook her head. A tear ran down her cheek. “No. Someone else has proposed. He is titled and willing to wed into our family despite…” Olivia swallowed.
Amanda’s heart squeezed. “Do you want me to talk to Father about it?”
“No. It’s for the best. I only wanted to apologize. If not for Carlton’s public accusations, you would not have had to marry that…” Her hands flapped about in distress. “That man in such haste.”
Amanda caught her sister’s hands, steadying them. “Olivia, that man is my husband, and I love him with all my heart. I wish only the same for you.”
With a sob, Olivia threw her arms about Amanda, hugging her tightly. Then, with a gasp, released her before turning to run down the hallway.
“Whatever is wrong?” Thornton inquired, his breath warm in her ear as his arms came about her waist, pulling her backward against his strong, lean form.
She leaned into his strength. “It seems my sister is under the impression I was forced into marriage with a mad ogre of a titled scientist.”
Thornton nuzzled her neck. “Mad for you, perhaps. But ogre?”
His touch was too distracting. She would speak with Olivia later. “You do have a voracious appetite,” she answered, tipping her head to provide a better angle. “And a tendency to growl.”
“Mmm. An appetite which is currently unsatisfied. Shall we explore the gardens?” His low voice vibrated against her skin awakening every nerve ending.
“Did you not notice the dusting of snow, my earl?” A token objection for she knew he would keep her warm.
“I did, countess.” He nudged her toward the terrace doors. “A decided advantage as I fully expect it to keep the other guests indoors.”
~~~~~
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About the Author
Anne Renwick writes steampunk romance, placing a new kind of biotech in the hands of mad scientists, proper young ladies and determined villains. Anne lives with her family in Maryland, but makes her online home at www.annerenwick.com.
You can connect with Anne on Facebook at Anne Renwick. Or, if you want to hear more about her books, join her in the Facebook group: Elemental Web Weavers.
You’ve just read Book One in The Elemental Web Chronicles. The next book in this series, The Silver Skull, follows Olivia as she embarks upon her own adventure. If you'd like to know when Anne's next book, The Silver Skull, is available, sign up for her newsletter at www.annerenwick.com.
Dedication
To Shaunee, without whom the spider would never have crawled onto the page
Acknowledgments
Thank you to…
The Plotmonkeys: Shaunee Cole, Kristan Higgins, Jennifer Iszkiewicz and Huntley Fitzpatrick. You helped the plot take root, cheered me on to the end—and so, so much more.
All the wonderful people of CTRWA. This chapter and the people in it made all the difference in the world. Without you this novel would never have been born. I miss you all.
The Wiffers—all of you. You’ve been a part of this from the beginning.
All my former biology teachers and professors. Who knew this would be the outcome?
All my former students. Perhaps this makes up for the lectures?
My husband and my two boys who never stopped believing in this book.
My mom and dad who first taught me to love reading.
Mr. Fox and his red pen.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Karen Pinco
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
Digital Edition 1.0
ISBN 978-0-9977475-1-5
Cover design by James T. Egan of Bookfly Design.
Edited by Sandra Sookoo.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
Enjoy this book? You can make a big difference.
About the Author
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Copyright