“Stop, stop,” barked Darius, pressing his fingers to his temple. “I can’t make heads or tails of this.”
Miranda stared at him in surprise. “But I didn’t say anything.”
Darius looked at Corwin and sighed. “You said nothing aloud, but you are communicating a great deal.”
Corwin kissed her hand and guided her toward her chair. “And you are obviously very upset. Tell us what the matter is.”
Miranda sat, and Corwin drew up the second chair beside her. Darius, as he had the night before, took up his position as sentry at the window. The associations with the last time both men had been in her room were distracting, but Miranda forced herself to set them aside and speak calmly. Despite her misgivings, she told them of her interview with Mother. Not about the money, but about Lady Thayer’s visit, and the news that Lady Thayer had a nephew interested in Miranda.
“It sounds ridiculous now,” she finished. “But when I heard it, I thought, perhaps, he was a Sorcerer, and I wondered if you knew him and I ...”
Corwin waved her words away. “When is this party?” he asked. “What are the dates?”
“It begins on the nineteenth, I believe, and lasts the week.”
“It passes Midsummer’s Eve,” said Darius to Corwin, and Corwin nodded.
Miranda frowned. “What does that matter?”
Darius drummed his fingers against the windowpane, hard enough to rattle it in the sash. “Midsummer is one of the days when the barriers between our world and Fae lands are at their thinnest, and the inhabitants may pass back and forth most easily.”
“We’ve been thinking we need to investigate Lady Thayer’s guest list,” murmured Corwin. “But perhaps we should begin by investigating Lady Thayer herself.”
“Investigate Lady Thayer’s guest list?” repeated Miranda incredulously. “Why?
Darius looked at Corwin, and Miranda could sense a swirl of thoughts between them, like whispers overheard through a keyhole.
Tell her.
Darius ...
Tell her, Corwin, or I will!
Corwin’s jaw hardened. Darius turned from him and faced Miranda. “Miranda, we came to Lady Thayer’s house because Catalysts have been disappearing across the country. No one knows who is accomplishing this, or exactly why it is happening. We are under orders to find the ones responsible, and stop them.”
“And to protect any new Catalysts we discover in the course of our investigations,” said Corwin. “You.”
Miranda didn’t know what to say. “How is it possible? There would be a ruckus if women—if anyone—were disappearing! Such a thing can’t happen in secret!”
“Can’t it?” replied Darius coolly. “Do you know Edwina Hoyt?”
“A little. She’s gone on the Grand Tour.”
“Barnabas Beauchamp?”
“Yes. He’s engaged to Priscilla Wade, and he took them both to India ...” Her words trailed away. Darius and Corwin both gazed at her unblinking. “But how!” she exclaimed. “I know their families. They can’t be lying. Not about their children having disappeared ...” But she broke off and answered her own question. “They could have been Persuaded.”
Corwin nodded. “No parent wants to know their child is missing or dead. It would be possible for a Sorcerer to Persuade them that nothing was wrong.” He hesitated. “They could also have been bribed, or lied to, or coerced by the Fae court. The Fae and their allies have all manner of avenues available to them.”
“They are not the only ones, Miranda,” said Darius. “But you are less likely to know the others.”
Fear gripped Miranda, making her blood run cold and her breath come too shallow. No matter how she tried to swallow, no matter how tightly Corwin gripped her hand, she could not push it aside.
“Why didn’t you tell me this at once?” she whispered.
Corwin sighed. “That was my fault. You already had so much to contend with, I didn’t want to frighten you further. Can you forgive me?”
The question echoed in her mind, and for a moment, Miranda honestly did not know how to answer. To have concealed such danger from her ... What else had Corwin concealed?
And what did it mean that it was Darius who had insisted she be told the truth?
“I will consider forgiveness for you,” replied Miranda loftily. “If you swear you will be honest with me from now on.”
Corwin laid his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “I do swear.”
Miranda turned to Darius, who said nothing, only met her gaze. His blue gaze was closed off, but she could sense a battle going on inside him, a storm of emotion to rival her own. She yearned to reach toward him, to reach inside him, as she now knew she could. She wanted desperately to understand what he was feeling and why he had trusted her in this when he did not seem to trust her in anything else.
But it was because he was trusting her that she pulled back. He would either tell her or he wouldn’t. He had trusted her; she would trust him.
As she reined both curiosity and awareness back, Miranda was ready to swear she felt something new from Darius: surprise. Surprise and gratitude.
Miranda folded her hands on her lap to keep them still. “So,” she said to Corwin. “What do we do next?”
Corwin’s mouth quirked up. “I admit I find myself wondering what Lady Thayer is doing this evening.”
“We should follow her,” announced Darius.
“But I am also concerned about the undue amount of interest she is showing in Miranda. She should not be left alone.” Corwin got to his feet. “Stay with her, Darius.”
Darius jerked himself up straight. “Me?”
“Darius?” cried Miranda at almost the same time.
But Corwin just stood, calmly brushing down his coat sleeves and adjusting his cravat. “Unless Lady Thayer plans to spend a quiet evening at home, I may need to insert myself into another household or she may even be at the theater or the opera. Since I was the one at her party, it will be less strange and take less Persuading to convince any staff or companions that I should be where she is.” He looked straight at Darius. “And we are very short on time.”
Darius’s struggle was visible, but Corwin stood firm.
“Very well,” Darius muttered.
“I’ll be back as soon as I am able.”
Before either of them could say another word, Corwin slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind himself, and leaving Miranda and Darius alone.
Fourteen
Miranda looked at Darius. Darius looked at Miranda and swallowed, an emotion crossing his face that Miranda could have sworn was nervousness.
Then he marched over to the door and locked it once more. He stood back, folded his arms, then crossed to the windows and checked that they were soundly latched. He looked out across the garden for a moment and she saw the muscles of his shoulders rippling as he attempted to force his shoulders to relax under his coat of fine green wool.
Miranda knotted her fingers together. If she’d had more time to understand—to sort through this strange arrangement, these previously unimaginable emotions—she might have known what to say. She had shared her body with this man, but nothing else yet. He demonstrated an attraction to her, but it was equally plain he neither wanted nor trusted it.
Neither wants nor trusts me, and he is afraid that Corwin does.
And yet he trusted her to be able to hear what sort of danger she was truly in. Unless he wanted her told the truth so she would be too afraid to act more than once on her attraction to him, to them. Miranda shook her head and tried not to hate the confusion these men sowed inside her.
And here we are stuck with each other in my bedroom until Corwin deigns to return.
It then occurred to her that Corwin might have done this on purpose.
Indignation snapped Miranda’s head up so she looked directly into Darius’s blue eyes.
“You’ve guessed it, then.” Darius folded his arms once more. “Corwin is hoping you and I will become
... reconciled to each other.”
“And more than that, I expect.”
He nodded. “You are a very quick study, Miranda.”
“What are we to do, then?” She gestured helplessly.
Darius sighed and looked around. He spotted the book lying discarded on her table. “Do you want to read?”
Miranda thought of attempting to compose herself to concentrate on the book while he watched her with his brooding blue eyes. She shook her head.
Darius sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, and looked out the window again.
“If I had known I was receiving guests this afternoon, I might have thought to acquire a deck of cards, or a chessboard,” murmured Miranda.
Darius arched his brows. “Do you play chess?”
“Yes. Although it has been a while.”
“For me as well, but perhaps we can make do.” He moved a decorative round table from by the window and positioned it between the two chairs.
“Do you remember your lesson in channeling from this afternoon?”
“I think so.”
“I’m going to ask you to repeat it, then, but this time, try to modulate the amount of power you draw.” He held out his hand.
Miranda took a deep breath. “I will try.”
She took his hand. His palm was broad, warm and hard. The touch of it at once brought memories of his hands sliding along her heated skin, of his mouth on her, of his sighs and his fingers wrapped around hers, teaching her how to stroke his cock. Which reminded her forcibly of when Corwin had offered to teach her how to use her mouth on him. To her stunned embarrassment she felt her mouth begin to water, as if she stared at a confectioner’s window.
She closed her eyes before she could look into his. She did not want to see evidence of his disdain right now. She had to get herself under control. She had to concentrate.
What are you doing to me?
Her eyes flew open. Darius was looking down at her, his blue eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and fear. His cheeks had flushed deeply and she was aware her own face burned.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I did not mean for that to reach you.”
“It’s all right.” She swallowed. “We are both still learning.” Then another dreadfully mortifying thought came to her. “Did you ... Did I ... Could you tell what I was thinking?”
“Yes.” He reached out with his free hand and stroked the line of her jaw. His gentle touch set her skin tingling from her throat to her breasts, and her nipples began to tighten.
“Miranda.”
He leaned down and tentatively kissed her. His mouth was so soft against hers it almost brought tears to Miranda’s eyes. He released her hand so he could cradle her head, holding her in place while his tongue stroked her, tasting her lips, then parting them gently. He reached inside, slowly exploring. She could tell he was almost afraid to continue but, like her, he had no wish to stop. His emotion touched her as tenderly as his lips and she strove to open herself, to show him her feeling as he showed her his. He reached deeper. His tongue stroked the side of hers and a shiver of delicious longing ran through her.
Where she found the strength, she did not know, but Miranda wrapped her hands around his wrists and pulled away. He stared at her, and his worry brushed against her mind. I’ve gone too far, assumed too much ...
“No,” she said in answer to the unspoken thought. “But, are you sure, Darius?” she asked softly. “Are you really sure?”
She stared into the depths of his blue eyes and saw the storms there, the scars of old wars waged in his proud and stubborn heart.
“Corwin would say I should ask you if you are sure.” He tried to make a jest of it, but Miranda refused to rise to the bait.
“This is not about Corwin,” she reminded him. “This is about you and me.”
Darius ran the back of his hand down her temple, and the side of her throat. At no time did he cease looking into her eyes. She felt her breath catch. Say something. Say something, Darius. I cannot bear it much longer.
“Yes,” he said. “I am sure, Miranda.”
He pulled her to her feet and once again his mouth claimed hers. But this time was different. This time his kiss was frenzied. His tongue pressed deep inside her, stroking, plundering. She moaned and moved close, her tightly furled nipples rubbing against his hard chest. She was on fire. She could feel his rigid cock against her belly, despite all the layers of fabric and buckskin between them, and she wanted it, wanted him. Now, at once.
Yes. Yes, Miranda.
The touch of his voice in her mind lit an entirely new level of desire within her. The fires of her need blazed painfully bright. She felt hot moisture pooling between her legs as her pussy strained open. She ran her hands down his shoulders, his back, his tautly muscled ass and thighs, around to his bulging cock. He was so hard, so tightly confined. How could he stand it?
“Turn around,” Darius ordered.
Miranda obeyed, and turned in the circle of his arms. He laved her neck with his tongue and she groaned and almost lost her balance. He rested both hands on her shoulders for a moment, then ran them down her back, hard and swift, all the way to her ass. Miranda felt the tingling she now recognized as magic, and in a single instant, every hook and lace of her dress came undone. She gasped. Darius’s hands shoved underneath the muslin and cambric, finding her breasts and engulfing them. She groaned and leaned back against him, rubbing her now-bare ass against the ridge of his erection.
“It is good?” he whispered in her ear as he drew one hand down her belly to cup her damp curls. “Do you want more, Miranda? Do you want me?” He turned his hand so the side of it fit into her slit and began to stroke her folds back and forth. The pleasure of it made her tremble.
“Yes! Oh, yes, Darius!”
“I like that you’re wet and so hot.” His hand moved faster, pressed harder. He bent her forward over the arm he’d wrapped around her waist, so his cock could circle more firmly against her buttocks. “I like it very much. I like that I do this to you.”
“Yes,” she moaned, letting her knees buckle so she was truly riding his hard, hot hand. It was so good to have him stroking her folds roughly, while his cock sought to nestle itself between the halves of her ass. But it was not enough. It could never be enough just like this.
No. Never enough.
He turned her again, claiming her mouth for another searing kiss while he shoved back the loosened dress and the shift beneath, exposing her skin to him. Miranda found his erection, fumbled with the buttons on his fly, almost weeping in her need to hold his throbbing cock in her hands.
Darius seized her hands, pressing both palms flat against his cock. She felt a wave of pure, heated sensuality pass through her, coming unmistakably and undeniably from him, and the buttons sprang open. She gasped and sighed and reached into his breeches to wrap her fingers around his huge, hard cock.
She stroked him once, and he groaned against her mouth. Delight filled her as she handled him, stroking his shaft with one hand, fondling his tight balls with the other. Boldly she thrust her tongue into his mouth, taking charge of the trembling, shivering kiss.
Oh, no, Miss Prosper. Not yet. He grabbed her hands again and pinned them behind her back with both of his so she was trapped in the circle of his hard arms. Not until you beg for it.
With one sudden motion he scooped her into his arms and tossed her down onto the bed. Miranda’s breath left her and she gasped, struggling to sit up. By the time she did, Darius was stripping off coat, waistcoat and shirt, and tossing them on top of his boots and breeches. He was magnificent in the daylight, even more so than he had been in the darkness. His eyes glowed with desire, and the head of his massively erect cock gleamed in the sunlight that seeped in around the heavy curtains. She stared at him, utterly mesmerized.
Darius was on top of her in an instant. He spared her none of his weight, but pressed down hard, trapping her beneath him as he claimed more kisses. He felt so good, so har
d against her. Miranda moaned and struggled, not to get free, but to rub herself against every inch of him. She could not get enough. The heat of his skin against hers was intoxicating. His cock against her stomach, her thighs, was maddening.
His mouth moved down her throat, to her breasts. He opened wide and licked one ruched nipple before he took her in deeply. Miranda cried out and knotted her fingers in his golden hair. He was merciless, licking and sucking roughly. Then, as if one was not enough, he pushed her breasts together and captured both nipples between his lips at once, dabbing his tongue against each of them.
“Oh, yes!” cried Miranda as he plumped and sipped and sucked. “Yes!”
How hot are you now? He withdrew one of his hands, setting her breasts free, and thrust two fingers into her. Hot enough to beg?
Yes. Please. Please. She imagined him inside her, thrusting all the way in with his huge cock. He liked it hard and fast, and he wanted it now. She knew he did; she could feel his desire invading her mind, twining with her own need. I want you. I want you just like this. Please, Darius.
Yes, Miranda.
For a single heartbeat he reared back. Then he thrust inside her, hard and deep, right up to the hilt so she felt his balls brush her folds. She cried and wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him right down on top of her again so she could thrust her tongue inside his mouth. He opened for her, as hot and willingly as she opened for him.
He began to thrust hard and fast, just as she had imagined, just as she had so desperately desired. Darius filled her, stretched her, gave her no time to draw breath. She could only cling to him, helpless, while his hands cradled her ass, holding her in position while he rode her. She could do nothing but feel him, all of him. Her body was beyond her control. Her pussy tightened and strained open and tightened again in time with his maddening rhythm. Her hips struggled against his hands but that only intensified her pleasure, which only made her writhe harder, kiss harder, cry out.
Come for me, Miranda. Scream my name while you come against my cock.
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