She stared up at him, her eyes darkening with desire, and he could resist no more. He leaned forward to kiss her, keeping his lips gentle on hers. She tasted so sweet, so good. He beat back the thought that he didn’t deserve her. For good or bad, she was his, at least for the moment.
He’d survived the past ten years by focusing on the present and avoiding thinking overmuch about the future. Tonight, he intended to do the same.
He kept the kiss slow and easy, not wanting to overpower her with his own desire and need. He wanted this evening to last, to draw out the pleasure for both of them. Especially since he intended this to be their only night together.
He trailed his fingers up her bare arm, loving her velvet skin. He continued on to her delicate collarbone and, allowed himself the pleasure of running his finger along the low neck of her gown, across the swell of her breasts. She drew a quick breath and he slowed his movements, allowing her time to adjust to him and his touch.
All while he ached with need.
Knowing she was his wife cast a different feeling over this, much to his surprise. But now was not the time to analyze why or what it might mean.
He eased back to press kisses along her neck, down lower still, her soft sighs urging him on. His hands moved to her waist to span the narrowness before doing the same to the flare of her hips.
The feel of her bare hand against his neck fanned the flames of his desire even more. It had been so long since someone had touched him like that.
When she lowered her hands to ease inside his coat, he wasted no time shedding the barrier and unfastening his waistcoat as well. He left it on, not wanting to move too quickly.
He kissed her again, reveling in her response to him.
“You are so beautiful, Moira.” He felt humbled by this gift she gave him, especially when he gave her so little in return.
Her smile lit her eyes, and that odd feeling in his chest shifted a bit more. She released him and stood to remove her gown.
Lucas’s fingers trembled as he assisted her, his heart thundering as more of her pale body was revealed. At last she faced him, wearing only her chemise. He drew her into his arms but she pressed her hands on his chest to stop him. He frowned until he realized she was removing his waistcoat. Next she ran her hands along his shirt, those clever fingers unbuttoning the garment.
As he remembered what she’d find beneath it, he drew back and placed his hands over hers to stop her. “There’s something you should know.”
He made the mistake of glancing down to see her generous curves covered only by her thin chemise. The tips of her breasts teased him, and he couldn’t resist running his thumbs along them before taking the weight of her breasts in his palms.
“What is it?” Her whispered question puzzled him. It took a moment for him to remember what he’d said.
He paused, trying to hold back the passion swirling through him. “There are scars.” He rubbed his chest to aid his explanation.
The sympathy in her expression touched him deeply. No horror, no wariness. Only a tenderness that offered understanding. She reached out a finger to touch the scar just visible beneath his eye patch then lifted up on her toes to kiss it.
Desire swamped him and he took her mouth with his, long and hard, allowing his full need for her to show. Only then did he ease back to try to explain. “The scars—”
“Hush.” She finished unfastening his shirt then opened it, running her hands along his muscled chest. “You are so incredibly strong.”
He smothered a laugh. He’d braced himself for a gasp or some other reaction to the scars that crisscrossed his chest. Instead, she focused on his physique.
Then she pressed a kiss along the worst one, its long, jagged expanse marking him diagonally. His heart trembled at the sweetness of her gesture.
Unable to bear it, he held her at arm’s length. Startled, she looked up at him in askance. He had no response, no explanation for his action. The scars were a physical reminder of the broken person he’d become, a seer of death, a man who feared he was losing his hold on his sanity. He couldn’t stand for her to be near that part of him. But neither could he release her completely.
What was he to do with her?
As he hesitated, she took matters into her own hands by rising up to kiss him, her tongue finding his, her body pressing against his. With that simple gesture, his worry fell away, leaving only Moira.
Her delicate fingers found his hardened nipples, causing him to groan. Her exploration continued, touching the fastening of his trousers, which nearly brought him to his knees. Left with no choice, he took her hands in his and rested his forehead against hers as he fought back the urge to carry her to the bed and take her now. He wanted this to last, needed it to last.
“Lucas? Are you well?” she whispered.
He swallowed hard. “Very well, thank you. But your touch is going to undo me.”
She stilled as though surprised.
“If you only knew what you did to me, my l—” He stopped himself from saying the endearment. “Let me show you.”
He pulled the pins from her hair, sending the blonde mass cascading down her back. The strands were soft, thick, and changed her appearance to a siren he’d only dreamt about.
He took her hands in his as he kissed her again then moved down her neck to the top of her chemise. Lowering farther, he took her breast into his mouth, hoping the thin linen separating them added to the sensation. He released one of her hands to tug the chemise lower.
“You are so lovely,” he muttered then kissed the rosy tip.
She moaned, her hand going limp in his.
He knew just how she felt. He released her other hand and tugged the ribbon holding her chemise. Inch by inch, he removed her clothes until she stood naked before him. “You are an amazing woman, Moira.”
Her soft smile made him realize she didn’t believe him.
“You are beautiful.” He kissed her, drawing her into his arms. “You are intelligent.” He ran his finger along her cheek, moving slowly down toward her breast. “So good for the girls.” Then he glided along her waist, to her hips, toward her inner thigh. “Good for me.”
He halted as words he’d never intended to say passed his lips. Shoving aside his concern of what they meant for his dark heart, he focused instead on her.
“Lucas?”
Unwilling to discuss the meaning behind his words, he picked her up in his arms to cradle her against his chest and carry her to the bed. The covers were already drawn back and he laid her against his pillow, marveling at how good she looked there.
She held out her hands to him, and he sank down above her, keeping his weight on his elbows.
“You feel so good,” she murmured as her hands stroked his bare back.
He smiled as he nuzzled her neck, enjoying her response. When he eased back to look at her, her hair cascading around her, he realized she was staring at his eye patch.
Damn.
“Will you take it off?” she asked as she ran a finger along the leather thong that held it in place.
He was surprised he even considered saying yes for a moment. “You’ve seen enough scars for one night.”
“I would see all of you.” She ran her hand along his shoulders, down to his waist to finger the top of his trousers, making him groan with need.
“Soon.” He could certainly agree to removing his pants. But not yet. Not until she was ready. Once their bodies were touching, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
He shifted to the side as he kissed her so he could touch her sweet curves, lingering in the places he knew were sensitive, slowly moving his hand toward her center.
“Open for me,” he whispered between kisses.
It took a moment for her to understand what he wanted but soon she shifted to allow him entrance.
“Oh, Lucas.” She shifted again as he touched her intimately. Moist heat rewarded him and he continued his caresses until he couldn’t wait any longer.
> He paused to shed his trousers then returned to lay beside her soft body. He ached with need but wanted to savor this and draw out the pleasure.
“Lucas, please,” she said as she pulled him over her.
He did as she bid him, unable to deny her anything in this moment. But the feel of her naked body against his was nearly too much. He paused, fighting to control his need for her, to resist taking her quickly.
She shifted under him, driving him mad with desire. His hardness found her softness and he eased forward, the tightness of her body making him ache.
“Moira,” he whispered, wanting to hold onto this moment, this sweet torture.
“Lucas.” She moved her hips until he had to have her. Now. As he eased forward, he felt the barrier that declared her a virgin and pushed aside the guilt that he was the one to take this from her when he couldn’t love her.
As he pushed further, she stilled, forcing him to do so as well. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I didn’t realize— That is to say, I thought—” Words seemed to fail her.
He continued to kiss and caress her until she sighed with pleasure, signaling that he could begin again. This time, she moved with him, her breath coming quicker as the passion between them burned.
“Oh, Lucas.” This time when she spoke, there was a stunned amazement in her tone. “I—”
“Yes,” he urged her, wanting her to come with him on this journey. “Yes.”
He reached down to touch her, urging her to let go. “Sweet, Moira.”
She came apart in his arms and he swore he never felt anything so glorious. He quickly followed suit, shocked by the depth of his reaction. Never had it been like this. It made him feel all the more vulnerable.
After a moment, he shifted to the side and brought her with him, not questioning the need to keep her with him, to continue touching her.
She seemed to feel the same way as she tangled her legs with his, holding him with every part of her body. “That was unlike anything I had expected,” she murmured.
Nor I.
But he didn’t say the words. Instead, he kissed her forehead as he held her, unable to believe the path his life had taken. If someone had told him three months past where he’d be and what he’d be doing, he would’ve called them a liar.
His life had taken an unexpected turn, and it had him a bit worried as he wondered what could possibly happen next.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Moira woke the next morning, her heart squeezing as she realized Lucas was gone from the bed. She pushed aside the hitch of panic that he was gone for good. Surely not. Without warning, a lump formed in her throat. Was this what it would be like every morning? Would she wonder if this was the day she’d lose him?
She’d known of his intent to leave all along, but she hadn’t realized it would feel like this. He’d tell her before he left, wouldn’t he?
She stopped the downward spiral of her thoughts as she sat up in the bed. Her focus should be on the wonder of the previous night. That made her smile. Her wedding night had been more than she had ever dreamed. Lucas had made her feel special, beautiful even. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he’d made the transition from friends to lovers a memory she’d always treasure.
Did she go through the coming weeks with the intention of collecting more memories?
Yes. If that meant she was going to thoroughly enjoy every moment she had with Lucas and the girls, then yes. She had to be careful to keep that flicker of hope deep inside her to a minimum or when Lucas left, he’d leave her broken once again. She couldn’t allow that. The girls needed her too much. And she needed them as well.
With that in mind, she rose, finding her new gown and robe laid thoughtfully over the end of the bed. She could only hope she would still have the opportunity to wear it for Lucas. She made her way back to her room and rang for the maid, smiling smugly at her own bed, which did not have a wrinkle on it.
It was a great way to start the day. Now she would find the girls and see what they were up to. Lucas could have his solitude this morning, but somehow, she would manage to convince him to spend time with them.
*
Lucas picked up his pen but set it back down. He couldn’t focus on the work before him. His mind was elsewhere this morning. To be specific, it was in his bed where he wished he still was. Leaving Moira this morning had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. But he could not risk growing any closer to her than he already had.
Last night had significantly damaged the carefully built walls he’d erected since the accident. He didn’t exactly understand how. But in the light of day, his mistake had stared him in the face. Or rather it had been while he was laying beside Moira, watching her sleep.
He couldn’t imagine what her peaceful expression might look like when she realized exactly what he did when he stared at her ‘hair’.
Christ.
He’d created a tangled mess. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, trying to gather the energy to rebuild his defenses to protect both her and himself. His life was spiraling out of control. What was he to do with Moira? Or the girls, for that matter. He would soon have to separate himself from them emotionally as well as physically.
Before he could return to Brazil, several things needed his attention. One of them was his brother’s murder. That required a trip to London, but he could hardly leave immediately after marrying Moira. He did not want to do anything that would jeopardize her reputation with the servants or in the community. He didn’t want his poor behavior to reflect on her in anyway.
So he’d done the only thing he could this morning—leave the warmth of his bed to hide in the library. He knew this sanctuary was temporary. Either the girls or Moira would eventually search him out. In all honesty, he didn’t think he was capable of ignoring any of them. Not today. Not when the sight of Moira would bring memories of their night together, of her passionate response to him. And make him long to repeat it. Now that he’d been with her, it only made him want her more.
He thought he could manage to hold back his emotions, keeping them separate from the desire he’d always felt for her. But he underestimated her power. His idea of a marriage of convenience had never included wanting her this badly. He shook his head. In truth, that was only part of it. He enjoyed being with her. He felt better when she was near.
She’d asked about his eye patch last night. She was an intelligent woman who would soon figure out his aura reading. And then what? She’d realize how broken he was and start to see the signs that he was slowly but surely losing his sanity. He couldn’t stand to see the pity in her eyes as he tried to explain how unbearable it was to know someone was going to die.
No. He had to return to Brazil. He had no choice. Not if he wanted to protect her and the girls and keep himself sane. Constantly staring at their auras, hoping they didn’t darken, would drive him mad.
The sound of male voices in the hall caught his attention. Either the footmen were suddenly being boisterous, or they had guests. Probably someone from the village calling to wish them well.
Lucas remained where he was, hoping Moira would see to them. He had no desire to speak with anyone.
He couldn’t hold back his scowl when a footman opened his door. “My lord—”
“No need to announce us,” a male voice interrupted. “We’re old friends.”
Lucas recognized the voice just as Michael Drury, Viscount Weston, stepped around the footman. Weston was tall and slender, his black hair and blue eyes familiar, though the hint of a bump on the bridge of his nose was not.
Pleasure filled Lucas at seeing his old friend, much to his surprise. Oddly enough, he couldn’t see any aura around Weston.
“Weston. What a surprise.” Lucas rose to step around his desk as another familiar man entered the room. Stephen Nolton, Viscount Ashbury, didn’t have an aura either. “And Ashbury as well.”
Weston stepped forward to take Lucas’s hand, gave it a firm s
hake then clapped him on the back, his gaze catching on Lucas’s eye patch.
Ashbury, with his dark hair and green eyes, was the same height and seemed to have changed little. He clasped Lucas’s hand with both of his, holding them for a long moment. “Good to see you.”
The sincerity in his tone warmed Lucas.
He hardly knew what to say. After the accident, he’d been far from civil to his friends. He’d only wanted to heal and escape, especially after he realized the extent of his aura reading. But neither of these men seemed to carry any ill will toward him.
Both of his friends looked well. Fit and healthy. And happy. Odd how the last bit struck him more than anything. Not to mention fill him with a pang of envy. He’d be willing to wager they did not have the same ability he did.
“We’re sorry to arrive unannounced,” Weston said.
“No, we’re not.” Ashbury raised his brows as Weston glared at him. “If we were sorry, we would’ve sent a message ahead.”
“True.” Weston smiled wryly as he turned back to Lucas. “In all honesty, we weren’t certain our visit would be welcome, so we decided the best option was to arrive unannounced and hope you’d allow us entrance.”
“It’s been a long time,” Ashbury said as he put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder.
“Indeed it has.” Lucas hardly knew what to say. While he’d considered contacting both men when he arrived in London, that didn’t mean he’d prepared himself for their reunion.
“Terribly sorry about the loss of your brother.” Weston shook his head. “Such a tragedy.”
Lucas nodded. “His murder was certainly a shock.”
Weston and Ashbury shared a glance that had Lucas wondering what they knew that he didn’t.
“How are his daughters?” Weston asked. “They’re twins, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Amelia and Addie are doing as well as can be expected.” Lucas knew this was his opportunity to tell them of his marriage, but the words escaped him. How could he explain his union with Moira when he couldn’t yet explain it to himself?
Secrets 03 - Shattered Secrets Page 13