My Dangerous Duke

by Gaelen Foley

  Love.

  It seemed a bit late to be finding his courage for that now, but he was fairly sure that if he did not move, at least budge, in some direction soon, he was truly going to lose her.

  “So, Papa,” she was saying, “what made you finally decide to try to find the Alchemist’s Tomb? Was it the lure of gold?”

  Gerald nodded. “Worst decision of my life. We had no idea what we were doing.” He snuffed out his pipe and set it aside. “Your mother soon tired of living at sea, Kate, and I couldn’t blame her. We had you, and she wanted more children, a proper home. Settle down somewhere on dry land.” He gazed into his cup of brandy. “I’m not blaming her for what happened, mind you. No. I blame myself entirely for her death.”

  Rohan absorbed this comment, eerily reminded of the Kilburn Curse. It seemed to be catching.

  “We had always stayed away from that book due to her father’s warnings in the letter. Count DuMarin wrote that that place is evil, and he was bloody right. But we got desperate. We thought that if we followed the clues in The Alchemist’s Journal and could get into the Tomb, we might find some simple loot in there we could sell. I had hunted a few treasures before—for my own amusement, really—but I’d never seen anything like that. And of course,” he added hesitantly, “there was another reason Gabrielle needed to confront that place.”

  “Why? ”

  “Ah, Katy. There are questions I never wanted to answer. But you have a right to know. And so do you, Warrington,” he added, glancing at him. “It might be useful to the Order.”

  They had already learned that Kate’s mother had told Gerald years ago all she knew about the Prometheans and the Order. The rest he had pieced together himself, after his dealings with the previous Duke of Warrington.

  “What is it, Papa?” Kate murmured.

  “Your mother was . . . such a fragile beauty, Kate. Like an angel, not of this world, or a delicate wounded bird. I did my best to shield her from every threat against her. But I could not save her from her own anger. God knows she had cause.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He was silent for a long moment, avoiding their eyes. “Your mother told me that, as a child, she had been forced to take part in two terrifying Promethean rituals.”

  “Rituals?” she breathed.

  “Black magic ceremonies of some kind. Satanic things no child should ever be exposed to,” he said with difficulty. “Apparently this is what all the high-ranking Prometheans do to their children. It’s how they warp their minds from an early age. She told me she was only six years old the first time she was made to participate in these unspeakable rites.”

  “Good God,” Kate breathed, while Rohan’s eyes narrowed with fury.

  Six years old? The Order was aware of the enemy’s bizarre cultic practices, but he’d had no idea the Prometheans subjected their own children to it. And at so young an age?

  “How horrible,” she breathed.

  “You see, Kate,” Gerald continued, “that was why it was imperative for me to hide you away as I did. I swore that what these fiends had done to my wife, they would never do to my daughter. So I changed your name and sent you off to the middle of nowhere, though close enough to turn to the Dukes of Warrington for help, if ever you should be threatened. I didn’t know your sire would end up dying so soon after I set sail with Gabrielle,” Gerald added, turning to Rohan.

  “Nor did I,” he murmured.

  “You mean Rohan and I might have met years ago if things were different?” Kate whispered.

  Gerald nodded. “Charley knew to take you to His Grace if anything happened, and you would be protected by the entire Order.”

  They both stared at him in amazement. He had not known of this, either. A pact apparently made by his father.

  Gerald reached for her hand. “Katy, you must believe me. I never wanted to give you up. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But you see, the Prometheans had found out about me. I was in constant danger, for years, until they finally lost interest and forgot about me. I stayed on the move, and thank God, they never learned of your existence . . . until O’Banyon betrayed me.”

  “Oh, Papa.”

  “During the time he worked for me, O’Banyon continually urged me to go back to the Tomb so we could get the gold. He had heard about it from the crew. When I continued to refuse, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He started murmuring of mutiny. That was why I had no choice but to hand him over to the hangman. I had no idea the Prometheans had the wherewithal to locate him in the bowels of Newgate. If I had known, I would have killed him myself. I refrained because for a time, he had been like a son to me. When I heard he went after you—”

  “Don’t, Papa. Don’t berate yourself. I am all right,” she assured him in a soft, determined tone. “I am not as fragile as Mama. Besides—” She glanced over at Rohan. “Somehow, my destined protector ended up guarding me, anyway, just like you originally intended.”

  “How did that happen, anyway?” the captain asked with a curious furrow of his brow. “I don’t suppose you’re goin’ to tell me it was Fate?”

  Rohan hardly knew where to begin in answering that one, but fortunately, Kate stepped in with a deft response. “Caleb Doyle was instrumental in it,” she said vaguely, then changed the subject. “Did Mama say that all Promethean children have to go through these, er, dark ceremonies?”

  “Yes. They were marked for life there, their future spouses chosen for them.”

  “I see.” Kate turned and looked meaningfully at Rohan.

  He understood her pointed glance at once: She meant to refer him to what he had confessed yesterday, about the children he had orphaned in his role of assassin. Like those in Naples.

  The ones whose screams upon finding their father dead in the garden still haunted his troubled dreams.

  Until this moment, he had never contemplated the kind of ritual nightmare he had spared those innocents from having to endure. Because of what he’d done, now they might be free . . .

  The sudden shift disoriented him. His heart was pounding, his wits rather routed. Suddenly needing to be alone, he stood and nodded good night to them. “Miss Fox. Captain. I believe I shall retire.”

  “Good night,” Kate said softly, studying him with tender concern.

  He did not understand. Why was she not looking at him with horror and revulsion after seeing him slaughter half a dozen men?

  “Fine work this evening, Your Grace,” her father remarked with a nod good night.

  “Born to it,” Rohan answered under his breath. With a slight bow, he left the chartroom and went below to his cabin.

  As he made his way down the dark, narrow passage of the lower deck, he preferred to blame his unsteady zigzagging on the motion of the ship, but the truth was he was shaken by this jarring rearrangement of the facts. He could almost feel the ropes that bound the guilt he carried like an anvil on his back beginning to fray . . .

  Finding the tiny cabin he had been afforded as a guest on Gerald’s ship, he sat down slowly on the narrow berth where he was to sleep.

  He let out a long, slightly shaky exhalation and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He put his head in his hands and stared at nothing, then he shut his eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? In the silence, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

  How ably he had ignored all of his emotions until Kate. It was her fault he had to feel these things. Before she came along, he had done quite well never thinking about it, never caring. Why did she have to make him feel?

  The change she’d wrought in him was now putting him through Hell, for what? She was soon going to leave him, he knew it.

  After all I’ve done for her.

  His hands propping up his head clenched slowly into fists. Damn her. As his pulse pounded, he thought surely the least she owed him for his pains was one more night of bliss between her legs.

  Kate’s emotions were in turmoil, too. Exhausted after the long night�
�s wild events, she bade her father a weary good night with a long hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  She still could not quite believe that he was right there before her, real and tangible, alive and well, as familiar as ever. After seventeen years’ separation, she was astonished at how easily they got along, as if they had never been apart. Meanwhile, she refused to heed her startled hurt at his announcement about his second family. Finding him alive was reward enough.

  As for his revelation about what her mother had been made to suffer as a daughter of the Prometheans, she was sickened, angry, and deeply disturbed by the news. Being on the ship again made her miss Mama even more. She kept expecting to see her everywhere. Her mother was as much a part of her memories of her former floating home as the creaking of the hull, the rocking motion of the waves, the crew’s chanteys, and the familiar smells of salt and polished teakwood.

  It was strange, being back again.

  Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, she left the chartroom and smiled at the sailors on the night shift who bade her good night as she crossed to the hatch.

  Climbing down the ladder into the greater darkness belowdecks, she was still worried about Rohan.

  She hoped what he had heard tonight from Papa gave him some peace from the guilt that haunted him. She did not envy him the great responsibility he bore. Hopefully, after a good night’s rest, he would not be so coldly closed down tomorrow.

  Reaching the bottom of the ladder, she turned around, but had only taken a few steps down the swaying passageway when her path was blocked by a large, formidable silhouette: Rohan stepped out of his cabin and stood waiting for her.

  He loomed in the darkness ahead as she approached, his angular face cast in shadow, his black shirt hanging open down his sculpted chest.

  Kate felt an instantaneous awareness of him in her most primal core, but she hesitated before the fevered intensity in his stare. “I-I thought you went to bed.”

  “Can’t sleep.”

  She did not need to ask why. Who could sleep after the night he’d had? She stopped in front of him, wondering what to say. His hungry gaze stayed fixed on her, and something in his silvery eyes made her heart begin to pound. “What did you think of what my father said?”

  “I don’t want to talk.” As he reached out and cupped her cheek, Kate swallowed hard, but she hardly had to ask what he wanted to do. She could feel the heat of his need coming off him in waves.

  She drew in her breath as he ran his hand down from her cheek along the side of her neck. He threaded his fingers into her hair, moving closer as he drew her toward him. He bent his head and claimed her mouth, his lips, burning, silken, against hers; she quivered with temptation as he consumed her tongue. The fierce demand in his kiss threatened to overwhelm her.

  “I want you,” he whispered, breathing heavily.

  His bold advance jarred her somewhat back to her senses. “You must be joking,” she uttered, yanking away from him and trying to hide her mad desire behind a mask of self-possession. “I’m not your harlot anymore.”

  “You said you love me. Prove it,” he murmured. He captured her hand and brought her palm to his loins, making her feel the massive evidence of his sincerity.

  She bit her lower lip, striving to reason against passion. Letting her palm linger on his rigid shaft a heartbeat too long, she withdrew her touch, determined to get around him. “Rohan.”

  “Sleep with me,” he ordered in a whisper, too proud to beg, but then again, he’d never have to.

  She looked into his glittering eyes and saw the need in his taut face. She sensed his desperation and knew that he was hard and wild enough to take it if it was not offered freely. The part of her that was still furious at him for shutting her out along with any possibility of love shouted angry protests in her mind, but it was no use.

  He might not love her, but for her part, she was lost to him. If she could not win his heart, at least she could satisfy his desire. She knew he was in need tonight.

  Slowly, Kate ran her hand up his bare chest and felt the thunder of his heart. He closed his eyes, visibly savoring her touch.

  Her mesmerized gaze followed her hand as she inched a caress over the muscled swells of his chest, and lower, to his chiseled abdomen.

  She heard his ragged exhalation. Then he gripped her forearm with a touch that would brook no denial and drew her silently into his cabin.

  She thought again of refusing as he closed the door, but when she saw his thoroughly determined stare, she knew there was no point. She knew that look. The warrior. He was going to have her, and heaven help her, she wanted wholeheartedly to give in.

  God, had she no pride? She was wet for him before he even touched her, lifting her chin softly with his fingertips. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and surrendered to his feverish seduction.

  The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, pinned against the wall. They were kissing roughly. She raked him with her nails, he nipped her with his teeth. She clutched his hair as he left her lips to ravish the curve of her neck, his hands working feverishly to wrench aside the bodice of her gown.

  He dropped to his knees with an animal moan and proceeded to suck on her nipples like he would pleasure her for an eternity. Kate thrust the tip of her pinky between her teeth to keep from crying out.

  Rohan was shaking as he rose again, freeing his rigid member from the placket of his black trousers. She skimmed her fingertips along his silken length, but his need overtook him. In no mood to play, he lifted her striped satin skirts. His breath was harsh and rasping by her ear, panting in the darkness.

  He picked her up and leaned her back against the wall; she wrapped her arms and legs around him and buried her blushing face against his neck as he penetrated her.

  The soft groan of sheer relief that escaped him once he was buried to the hilt inside her was the stuff of a harlot’s dreams. Oh, to have the power to make him moan like that. It was beyond intoxicating. Perhaps he could corrupt her so she would just take his gold and his body and be content without his love. She caressed his powerful arms, and whispered, “Yes, I know what you need.”

  There was barely room to move, but the cabin was just large enough for what they had to accomplish. His athletic body grew damp with sweat as he made glorious use of her, heaving her up and down as if she weighed nothing, impaling her fast and vigorously on his mighty shaft.

  The second she whimpered in pain when he went too deep and hurt her, he instantly slowed and withdrew a little, letting her set her feet on the wooden rail of the cot built into the opposite bulkhead.

  Kate shivered, poised between pleasure and pain.

  “Better?”

  She nodded, her eyes closed, all of her awareness absorbed in him completely.

  “Kate—I’m sorry,” he whispered. At first, she thought he was only apologizing for her momentary discomfort due to his great size. But his kisses turned soulful as he began making love to her again, whispering to her with haunting desperation. “I am so sorry, Kate. Forgive me. For everything. I couldn’t keep my hands off you. I still can’t. All I want is to be fucking you, constantly.” He closed his eyes as if he could retreat from her, even though they were one. He went motionless, still deep inside her body. “Help me, Kate. I’m drowning.”

  “Oh, darling, I know.” She encircled his broad shoulders in her arms and held him. “I’m here. It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you, but I know I did. I can’t—I am the curse.”

  “That isn’t true!” she whispered, cupping his cheek in tender chiding. “Look at me. Sweeting, you must fight this darkness. Don’t despair,” she cajoled him in the most intimate whisper. “There is hope for you.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You always doubt, but I believe. That’s why you need me, whether you can see it or not.”

  “I’m beginning to.”

  “Look at me,” she ordered softly as she leaned her head against th
e wall behind her.

  Slowly, he obeyed. Lifting his lashes, he gazed into her eyes. “Keep looking at me, Rohan.” She held his stare as he continued making love to her. “I love you. God, I love you, past all reason.” She felt him trembling with emotion, but she needed him to know here and now that this was not a liaison with just anyone.

  This time, he was with someone who loved him beyond the point of all reckoning. A woman who’d fight for him, who, she feared, would even die for him, gladly, if it came down to it. “Yes,” she breathed as she petted him, soothing away his grief. “Give it all to me, darling. I can take it. I know who you are.”

  She saw the torment and the heavy haze of pleasure in his eyes, still holding his stormy gaze as he reached his climax.

  He held her in a crushing embrace, looking helplessly into her eyes as he filled her body with the life-giving liquid of his seed. His massive thrusts in release caressed her core so deeply that she, too, achieved her climax, succumbing to the mind-melting wonder of their total union.

  Moments later, she took him into her arms and held him as they rested against the wall, panting in mutual relief.

  Rohan laid his head on her shoulder, burying his face in her hair and into the crook of her neck, as though, just for a moment, he wanted to hide from the world.

  She gave him the shelter he sought, not asking any questions, unable to think of any good advice to help him carry the countless burdens that he bore. All she had left to give him in the silence was her love, even though he had claimed he didn’t want it. She stroked his hair and comforted him with her touch as best she could.

  He lifted his head at length, gazed into her eyes, then pressed the sweetest of kisses to her lips.

  She captured his face between her hands and gave him one just like it in return. He withdrew slowly from her body and steadied her as he helped her step back down onto the floor.