If He's Dangerous

by Hannah Howell

  “Poor Olympia,” she said. “She is truly quite miserable, but Max assured me that her pain will ease quickly, for he found no serious injuries. Her face suffered the most from that brute’s fist. I fear her cheek will be very colorful for quite a while, but Max does not believe there will be any scarring.”

  “As long as the pain eases, that will not trouble her overmuch. I hope Max is right for an Olympia in pain is not pleasant company.”

  “Fled the house, did you?”

  “As fast as I could. Have you escaped as well?”

  “Well, not from Olympia, for she was pleasant enough when I was there. But I have fled in a way. I come here for the quiet, to have a little time to myself. That can be so difficult at home and one grows very weary of locking oneself in one’s bedchamber. Not that that stops anyone from pounding on the door. So, I told a miserably sulking Mr. Pendleton that he might consider the possibility that he is not the only tutor in the world, grabbed my sketchbook, and fled the chaos.”

  “And your father will keep him and Miss Baker on even after they are married?”

  “Yes. Papa says it is foolish to demand that one’s servants remain unwed or achieve a higher state of morality than most of their employees.” She grinned when he laughed. “All he wants is that they do the work they are paid to do, show proper respect, be loyal, and commit no crimes.”

  “Very reasonable. So, what have you been drawing?” He reached for the book only to have her slap both hands down on top of it. “No need to be shy. I expect you are very good at drawing.”

  “No, really,” she protested as he tugged at the book. “There is nothing of interest in there. My skills are but passable.”

  The fact that she was trying so hard to prevent him from looking only made Argus more determined to do so. He kissed her and, when her grip loosened, he snatched the book out from under her hands. Her work was excellent, he thought as he turned the pages, admiring her drawings of places on the Sundun lands and ignoring the glare she was giving him. Then he froze. He was staring at a drawing of himself. He slowly turned the page to find another, and another. When he reached the picture she had been working on when he arrived, his eyes widened. She still made him look far more handsome than he was, or ever could be, but she had caught that look of hunger in his eyes perfectly.

  “You are too modest,” he said. “You are very skilled indeed. Your only fault may be that you make me look far more handsome than I am.” He glanced at her drawing. “You have, however, caught that particular look in my eyes perfectly.”

  He was probably about to make a big mistake, Argus thought as he set the sketchbook aside. He knew he was going to do it anyway, and he would worry about the consequences later. Looking at the drawings she had made of him, of the hard proof of her admiration of him, had brought his hunger for her roaring to life. She wanted him. It was there to see in her drawings. This would be no seduction but the sating of a mutual hunger, a sharing. Argus found he did not have the strength to turn away from that.

  When he looked at her, he found her blushes and unease adorable but was wise enough not to say so. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, letting her feel the hunger she stirred within him. As he had suspected, had indeed hoped, she was quick to respond, making him fully aware that she felt the same sensual greed. Lady Lorelei might be innocent, but she was not hesitant, and he planned to revel in her daring.

  Lorelei made no protest as Argus pushed her down onto the ground. There was a look in his eyes that told her he would not be running away this time, would not stir her passion to a feverish height and then push her aside. This time she would get what her body had been clamoring for since the day she had seen him in her garden. The apple orchard on a bright sunny day was not where she had ever expected to have her first experience with the art of lovemaking, but she would not balk now.

  She tilted her head back as he kissed her neck and ignored the unlacing of her gown. Lorelei hastily reminded herself that she had never seen any glaring fault in her body, so surely a man enflamed by passion would not do so either. Despite that she barely stopped herself from trying to cross her arms over her chest when he tugged her gown and shift down to her waist.

  Argus sensed Lorelei’s shyness and did his best to keep her desire hot enough to burn it away. He wanted to see all of her, touch every inch of her soft skin, and taste her, kissing her from her head to her toes and back again. When he kissed her breasts and then drew the hard tip of one breast deep into his mouth, she arched against him with a soft cry of need, and he knew how to keep her locked tight in passion’s hold as he rid her of her clothing.

  Lorelei thought she would go up in flames or die from the ache gripping her low in her belly. When Argus ceased tormenting her with his passionate assault on her breasts, she tried to pull him back into her arms. It was not until he sat back on his heels to remove his clothing with an admirable speed that she realized she was naked. She was lying on the ground beneath an apple tree, bathed in sunlight, without one stitch of clothing on.

  “Nay,” said Argus, quickly stopping her from trying to cover herself with her hands. “You are beautiful and I like to look at you. Let me look at you.” He kissed the palm of each hand and pressed her arms down beside her body. “And very soon I plan to be as naked as you are.” He slowly released her hands and, when she did not try to cover herself again, he rapidly removed the rest of his clothes.

  She was indeed beautiful, full where a woman should be, yet lithe. Argus did not think he had ever seen a woman as beautiful as Lorelei. She had smooth, soft skin that shone golden in the sunlight. Her breasts were full, high, and firm; her nipples a soft pink and temptingly long. The curls at the juncture of her slim, strong thighs were a brighter shade of red than the hair on her head. A tidy little shield of curls he had every intention of becoming intimately acquainted with.

  He tossed aside the last of his clothing and looked at her face. The admiration he saw in her expression stroked his vanity as no words ever could and he had to resist the urge to preen before her. Then her gaze settled on his groin and her eyes widened. Argus suddenly realized that, although she had seen him naked, that part of him had always been shielded from her view. By the look on her face, it might have been wise to continue to shield it from her eyes, at least until she knew the pleasure he could give her.

  Lorelei thought she could be quite content to stare at a naked Argus for hours. He was all dark skin and lean muscle from his broad chest to his long, strong legs. For such a dark man he did not have an abundance of body hair, and she decided she liked that, liked that there was so much of his smooth warm skin to touch. Then her gaze slipped to his groin and she almost gasped. His man part was not as large as the ones pictured in the books in her father’s library, but it was not small either. It stood up hard and long from a nest of black curls. She was just starting to get a little nervous when Argus returned to her arms, all that smooth warm skin she so admired pressed firmly against her. All of her concern about man parts fled as she took the opportunity to touch that beautiful skin everywhere she could reach.

  The way she caressed him with her small soft hands had Argus fighting for control. He needed, and wanted, to go slowly, to not frighten her with the ferocity of his passion. He kissed her, caressed her, and discovered that her passion was as fierce as his own. Determined to make certain that her first time with a man was not a painful disaster, Argus worked to make her so wild with passion that she would welcome the loss of her maidenhead just so that she could have him deep inside her, which was exactly where he wanted to be.

  A moan of protest escaped Lorelei when Argus slowly moved out of her reach as he kissed his way down her body. The occasional little nip he gave her, and soothed away with his tongue, had her shivering with delight. A tickle of awareness crept through the haze of passion clouding her mind when she felt him kiss the inside of her thighs, his silken hair brushing against her womanhood. Before she could utter a protest or move away, he kissed
her there. Lorelei went rigid with shock, but its tight grip was shattered with only a few strokes of his tongue. She could hear herself panting, knew she was brazenly opening herself to him, but what he was doing was making her so wild with need and pleasure she did not care. It was as if every drop of desire in her was rushing down to her groin to welcome his intimate kiss.

  When the ache there became almost more pain than pleasure, she called out his name, but he ignored her. And, abruptly, the ache became a shower of wondrous joy rushing through her body, a sensation that had her crying out his name again. She was still reeling from it when he loomed over her, settled himself between her legs, and thrust himself inside of her.

  A quick, sharp pain made her gasp, but she clung to him. He was in her, all around her, kissing her as if she was a well he was desperate to drink from. As he thrust in and out of her, she continued to cling to him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and there was no fear in her when the ache began to build again. He slid his hand down between their bodies and touched her in a way that brought back the exquisite explosion of tingling fire that rushed through her veins. Still caught up in the gasping intensity of it, she was only vaguely aware of when he thrust into her with a renewed ferocity and then shuddered as he called out her name. There was a brief rush of warmth deep inside where he rested within her, and Lorelei realized that was his seed and held him even closer to her.

  Argus roused enough from his sated stupor to realize he had collapsed on top of Lorelei and hastily shifted to the side. He eased his body free of hers and then held her close. His heart pounded and he actually felt a little weak, but pleasure still thrummed through his veins, warming him. He nuzzled her neck at the point where it met her shoulder and knew he would never regret this moment. He had never shared such pleasure with a woman before. Argus wished he were man enough to claim her so that he never had to give that pleasure up, but there was no ignoring the hard cold facts. A knight did not marry a duke’s daughter. And, since the thought of marriage still sent an icy chill through his body, he could not really offer her that anyway. Marrying a Wherlocke never ended well.

  He raised himself up on one elbow to look at her. “Lorelei, I am . . .” He frowned when she clapped one small hand over his mouth.

  Lorelei could tell by the tone of his voice that he was about to offer gentlemanly regrets, or, even worse, call what they had just shared a mistake. “Do not tell me this was wrong.”

  Argus pulled her hand away. “This was not wrong. This was perfection, utter bliss. I, however, am wrong. I am wrong for you. You deserve better than anything I have to offer.”

  “Argus, you do not do yourself justice. Are you not a knight of the realm? Are you not of good blood? Have you not gained honor serving king and country? How can you say you are less than I deserve?”

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “Wherlockes make poor husbands. Trust me in this. Our history is that of ruined marriages and deserted children.”

  She sighed and idly stroked his back. A part of her wanted to poke and prod until he told her everything about that history, but she fought the urge. He at least felt he should be offering marriage, but, for reasons he did not feel inclined to tell her, believed he was a poor marriage prospect. Argus seemed to think some history of poor marriages was important, but he did not tell her why, and she could not understand why whatever happened in the past should matter to them now. That was something to deal with at another time. Right now she was in the arms of the man she had hungered for and she did not want to spoil it by talking about why he was wrong for her. If nothing else, she did not want such a beautiful interlude spoiled with talk of guilt and mistakes, and she was sure that such words would seep into a discussion if she allowed it.

  The only solution she could think of was to relieve him of the problem. He thought he should have left her alone because he could not offer marriage. So, she had to make it clear that she had not and would not expect that of him. All she could do was hope he would believe her.

  “We are lovers now,” she said, and caressed his back, enjoying the texture of his sun-warmed skin.

  “Aye, we are.” He was not sure what she was trying to say, but he understood that she did not want any discussion of the right or wrong of what they had done.

  “So, how do lovers who live amongst so many people meet, find some time alone?”

  “Whenever and wherever they can.”

  “Do you have a trysting place in mind?”

  “Well, there is that big old oak in the garden at the gatehouse. Its trunk is as wide and thick as any wall.”

  Lorelei laughed. “True.”

  “It is probably not wise to play that game, however. Cornick has already tried to catch one of us. Who knows what trick he might try next. One of us would be vulnerable for a while as we slipped back and forth during the night.”

  “Such practicality. I would think that one of us would find it easy enough to remain in the shadows, the night being a perfect shield.”

  He laughed and kissed her on the nose. “We will work something out, for now that I have had you in my arms, I do not think I will be able to go long without wanting you there again.”

  Lorelei decided that was as much of a declaration as she would get from him, and she kissed him. It was not long before they were making love again. She was astonished when the same joy rushed through her, not dimmed at all by her growing knowledge of what was happening between them.

  Her shyness returned not long after the warmth of their lovemaking began to leave her body. Blushing so strongly that she suspected her face was as red as her hair she scrambled into her clothes. Even so, she managed to sneak many a look at him as he dressed. It was hard for her to believe that she had just been as intimate as a man and woman could be with such a beautiful man. She tucked the memory of his body away in her mind, assuring herself that now she could pull it out whenever she had need of it.

  It was not until she was back home, slipping into her bedchamber intending to wash up, that Lorelei realized no plans had been made for another meeting. For a moment her heart clenched with sorrow, her mind declaring that she had already been cast aside. Lorelei took a deep breath to quell the panic rising inside of her. Argus had already chosen the spot where they could meet. She suspected it was his concern about his enemies that kept him from immediately choosing a time for her to meet him there. He simply wanted to plan the safest way for them to have a tryst.

  It was not going to be easy to be his lover, she decided. The fact that they would have to be so secretive troubled her, as did the fact that he had spoken only words of desire, none of love or even the beginning of such an emotion. He had given her no hint that there was even a seed of love there that she could nurture. She would need a lot of patience if she were to hold fast to Sir Argus Wherlocke.

  Argus stood in the little garden of the gatehouse and stared at the big old oak tree. It would be a perfect place to meet with Lorelei. The problem was, how to get together without putting her at any risk. Cornick and his men were somewhere in the area and had already attacked one of the family. He did not want his need for her to make him act foolishly.

  As if he had not already, he thought and kicked at a stone in the path he stood on. He had bedded down with the virgin daughter of a duke, a man he liked and respected. A man who had opened his home to him and was ready to help him stay safe as he hunted down his enemies. If that was not the definition of an utter cad, he did not know what was.

  Even disgusted with himself as he suddenly was, Argus found himself staring at the tree again. He could almost see him and Lorelei making love in the shelter of it, its huge trunk protecting them from prying eyes. Argus knew he would continue the affair he had begun tonight because the thought of never touching her again, never tasting her again, was more than he could endure.

  “And mayhap you ought to give that fact some hard thought,” he muttered.

  “Talking to yourself?”

  Argus turned to look
at his cousin Iago. “Trying to work out a few problems.”

  “The first of which is a fair young maid with hair the color of a fine red wine?”

  “I believe that might be my business,” he said, but the repressive tone he put into his voice only made Iago smile. His relatives were not easily intimidated.

  “Since we are here on the sufferance of His Grace, her father, you might want to reconsider that opinion.” Iago patted him on the arm and started back into the house. “Just came to tell you that food is on the table. Mayhap a full, contented stomach will help you sort out your twisted thoughts.”

  “My thoughts are not twisted,” Argus protested as he followed Iago.

  “Nay? Beautiful woman who saves your life, looks at you as if you hung the very moon in the sky, and, I think, shares a passion with you that could set the woods afire, and you stand about and frown as if you have some great weight upon your shoulders.”

  “I do. Its name is Cornick.”

  “True, but you just try to distract me now. Very well, I will let it go.”

  Argus sincerely doubted his cousin would let it go for long. What was it about family that made them think they had the right to stick their long noses into your business? he wondered, scowling at Iago’s broad back. He had the sinking feeling that Iago was but the first one to try, however, and he had not heard the end of it, not by any means.

  Chapter 12

  “M’lady, there is someone here demanding to see Sir Argus Wherlocke.”

  Lorelei looked up from the book she had been trying and failing to read. Coming into the morning room to read had not succeeded in making her stop wanting to rush over to the gatehouse and see Argus. Although she now knew how wonderful lovemaking could be and she needed more, she would not keep hurling herself at him until she got it. She wanted to show him that she was a mature woman who could be a lover without pressing him for more than he had to give. Lorelei was rather hoping that Argus would come to her or at least attempt to arrange some romantic tryst. It was difficult to be patient, however, and she frowned at Max, hoping whatever he was talking about would occupy her mind as reading had not done.