Vow: A Lords of Action Novel

by K. J. Jackson

  “The wedding was supposed to be days ago. I was jilted.”

  “You were what?”

  “I was jilted. Cast off. Left at the altar. Miss Silverton discovered I have a penchant for buying virgins in a brothel and then eloped to Scotland with a past love to avoid me.”

  Her feet shuffled backward as her right palm landed on her chest. The back of her calves hit wood and she sank, landing in a chair, her left hand clutching the armrest. Ara stared at the floor for a long moment before her look crept up to Caine. He remained standing by the door, a mixture of concern and amusement playing along his features.

  “You did not marry her?” As much as she would have liked her voice to be solid, it came out as a squeak.

  “No. No marriage.”

  Ara closed her eyes, shaking her head as the news settled into her consciousness. She opened her eyes, noticing her fingers gripping the chair.

  “The devil—this is my chair.” She bolted upright to her feet as her eyes flew around his study. “This is my desk. And your chair from the Gilbert Lane house.”

  She turned on her heel to him. “What is going on, Caine?”

  He walked across the room and stopped at her rosewood desk, running his fingers along the gleaming edge of it. Her desk now sat at an angle to his desk and still his enormous study had room to spare. “I had the furniture brought here. I could not part with them—they are a part of you, Ara. Plus, I have always been quite fond of the chair you had made for me. I did not know what to do with it all at first, but then I arrived back here in London yesterday, and I knew, without a doubt, what to do with them.”

  His knuckles rapped on the desk as he looked up to her. “I do not know if this is the proper placement of them, I thought you could decide.”

  Ara dragged her fingertips across her forehead. “How have I landed in this bedlam?” Her eyes locked onto his face, skewering him. “What are you doing, Caine? You have been jilted and now you have gone slightly mad? We cannot just go back to the way things were. You absolutely know that fact and you are being nothing but rude to me. Disrespectful. You still need to find a wife and I still cannot watch that transpire.”

  The look on his face quieted, his blue eyes sobering against her glare. “I hope—no I beg—that I am looking at her.”

  She stared at him blankly, hearing the words but not able to process them, much less believe them. “You are looking at her?” The words slipped out in a stunned whisper, as Ara collapsed back down onto her chair.

  Caine advanced on her, gently, but with stealth, lodging himself right before her, the tips of his toes touching hers. Her eyes dropped from his face to stare at a black onyx button on his waistcoat.

  “I am horrified that what I put you through would draw such a reaction from you, Ara—I did not realize that you possessed this much anger at me. So much so that you obviously cannot believe the words I say. But know that while I cannot rewrite the last four months, Ara—the hurt I caused—I do apologize for it.”

  Ara shook her head, his words only reaching the outer edges of her mind. Craning her neck, she looked up at him. “What about the money? Your responsibilities?”

  Caine shrugged. “To be jilted is a scandal of humiliation, but it also created a nice opportunity. The Duke of Letson has given me half of the dowry.”

  “But why?”

  “It is expected. The marriage was a contract. He is not about to tamper with the honor of his family and his charges. It normally would have been the full amount of the dowry, but I believe he was more than generous after discovering my virgin-buying depravity. As I did not defend myself against the allegations, I do commend the duke for his honor. This exchange of money is common in these situations.”

  “But is it enough to right your estate?”

  A smile reached the corners of his mouth. “Ara, you sound as if you are reaching for excuses for me to go out and troll the marriage market again.”

  “No.” She blurted the word and instantly wished she could pop it back into her mouth. “It is just after everything this summer…”

  He reached down, clasping both of her hands in his own. Taking a step back, he pulled her to her feet, but didn’t let her fingers slip from his. “I do not care if it is enough. And I finally realized that fact. There was nothing I wanted more in that castle than to leave those stone walls and come and find you. Find you and take you in my arms. For days before the wedding I warred with myself—so much so that Fletch had a horse saddled and ready for me to escape on, consequences be damned. But then the choice was quite neatly taken from me, and I was nothing but relieved.”

  “But all of your responsibilities.”

  His hand came up, gripping her chin. “Damn my responsibilities, Ara. I will figure out a way. I am seeing quite clearly for the first time in forever. I am not willing to give you up.”

  “But you cannot just cast your responsibilities aside for me.”

  “Cease, Ara. I refuse to be worried about the future if it is to cost me the most important thing in my life.” He shrugged. “I still have the responsibilities of the title—I know I do—but I have been given another chance to do what I should have done months ago—no—years ago. And damn if I am going to be scared of it any longer.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “To tell you I love you.” Both of his hands cupped her face. “I love you, Ara. And I know what I have done to you this summer. I also know I never want to fail you again. I have been so damn concerned about our past, what I did to you, and about failing you in some imaginary way in the future—concerned that I wasn’t a man that deserved to walk beside you—that I did not recognize that I have been failing you every day for the last six years.”

  Her hands came up, gripping his wrists to steady herself against her legs that threatened to collapse. “You have not failed me, Caine.”

  “No, I did.” His hands tightened around her face, his thumbs running along her cheekbones, his blue eyes vehement in their intent. “Every single moment I did not take you in my arms. Every single moment I thought I knew better for the two of us. Every single moment I did not kiss you, when it was all I could think about. Every one of those moments I failed you.”

  He drew a deep breath. “No more, Ara. Not after today. As selfish as it may be, I don’t care. I need you, Ara.”

  Her soul shaking, she tried to steady her mind. How she wanted to believe him. How she’d wanted this for years. So much so, she could not comprehend it even happening.

  And then a thought, another reason why it could not be happening set darkness into her mind.

  Eyes closing, she fought the thought, fought the question. What did it matter? She had tossed everything away for pride once—could she truly live with herself if she did it again?

  “Ara, what are you hiding from? I tell you I love you and worry appears in your eyes.”

  Damn him. Damn that he knew her too well. Damn him because he was going to force her to tell him what was in her mind.

  Pride forced her eyes open. “You left me, Caine. I told you I loved you and you left. You chose another woman and then were jilted by her. I am merely consolation to soothe your wounded ego.”

  A chuckle erupted from deep in his chest. “That absurdity is the worry marring your beautiful green eyes?”

  “Do not laugh at me.”

  “I only laugh because I am relieved. I thought you had manifested another reason why I should not want you.” He leaned in, his forehead touching hers. “You were always the one I wanted, Ara. Always the one I needed. I knew it every step of the way, but I could not bring myself to believe…”

  “Believe what?”

  “Believe you could truly love me after our past. After all I did to you.” He pulled his forehead away from hers, but left his hands in place lining her jaw. “Maybe still, you cannot.”

  “No—do not think that, but…”

  “But what?”

  Ara swallowed hard. Pride be damned. “I needed you to choos
e me, Caine. Not another woman. I know it is silly, but I do not want to be what you settle for.”

  “I was at Notlund Castle because I was settling for being half the man I want to be, Ara. You are the one that makes me whole. You are the one I would—and always will—imagine my life with. So I beg of you, please do not let your pride and my stupidity get in the way of this.”

  He bent, his lips touching hers in the gentlest of kisses.

  “Or this.”

  His hands moved downward, his right fingers curling around her neck as his lips dropped to her chin, her neck, his hot breath trailing along her skin. Her head tilted back, unable to resist the shivers running along her skin from his touch.

  “Or this.”

  His lips reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder, pausing as he dragged his knuckles past the short sleeve of her dress and agonizingly slow down her bare arm. His hand wrapped along her neck moved up, searching through her hair, plucking pins one by one until her simple chignon fell, her hair dropping down her back.

  “Tell me I can touch you, Ara.” The words were a low rumble in her ear, his lips teasing her earlobe.

  “You already are.” Her eyes closed as the shivers expanded across her body, rippling her skin. Ara moved her left hand over his shoulder, her fingers stretching into the back of his hair, the thickness of it curling under her touch.

  Caine did not move his lips from the spot on her neck just below her ear, every word a fresh caress. “I have sworn twice in my life I would no longer touch you, Ara. And I have attempted it twice. But I am not a man that can stand by that particular vow.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes level with hers. “Unless…unless you make me.”

  { Chapter 13 }

  Ara stared at the clear blue in his eyes, the raw honesty. Her chest rose with a deep breath, brushing the front of him. “I told you once you should never make a vow you have no intention of keeping, Caine. It gives honor far too much rein to wreak havoc. And honor is your weakness.”

  A smile played on Ara’s lips as she reached up, her thumb running across the crown of his forehead and slipping into the hair at his temples. “I release you from your vow, Caine. Again.”

  An exhaled growl filled the room as his arms collapsed about her, his hands wrapping down to the curve of her backside. He picked her up and took five steps. The back of her thighs hit the front of his massive desk, and he set her down on the edge, wedging his thighs between her legs.

  His lips met hers again, not gentle, not soft. Unyielding and demanding, his mouth attacked hers, his tongue slipping past her lips, aching to explore every depth within. His hands flurried between them, stripping himself of his cravat, jacket and waistcoat.

  When Ara realized his intention, her hands circled his waist, pushing up on his linen shirt. Her fingers dragged along his skin, along the hard, taut lines of his back as he pulled away to shrug out of his shirt.

  She stared at his chest, the rise of muscles with every ragged breath he took. His body was beauty—art—in living, breathing form. Her palms went flat onto the small of his back. Instant heat under her hands.

  This. Her skin on his. This was what she needed. The throbbing in her core intensified. Every single moment he had touched her in the past flooded her mind, her senses, and her body shuddered at the memory of what his skin, what his hands could do to her.

  She looked up at him, her breath catching as his eyes sliced into her soul. The throbbing between her legs turned into pounding.

  His gaze unflinching, Caine’s hand curled around the side of her neck. “The devil take me to hades, Ara, I do not want to ask this. But I do not want you beholden to love me. I could not have you like that. And the last time I touched you like this, you said you were mine by rights. But I have no rights to your body, Ara. Only permission.”

  A bolt of understanding washed over Ara. “What? That was what happened? That was why you left me? Dammit, Caine.”

  She slapped his stomach, and he caught her wrist, holding her hand flat against his belly, her fingers splayed to the inner curves of his ribcage. She looked up, her eyes pinning him. “You have rights to my body because I love you. No other reason. I am not beholden to you, Caine.” She paused, her head tilting. “Well, yes, I am—you saved me from the brothel, from dying in that pasture—and I will always love you for those acts. But I love you even more for every single minute we have spent together since then.”

  His eyes closed, his chest visibly exhaling in a long breath.

  She lifted her left hand, spreading it flat across his chest above her other hand. His blue eyes opened to her. “That you respect me, my mind. You trust me. You are courageous and you care so damn much about what is right and what is wrong that you go out time and again and put yourself in danger to save the girls.”

  With the look of pure predator, he leaned down, kissing her.

  Ara jerked to the side, breaking his lips on hers. “But wait, I am not done. I do not want you to ever again doubt why I am yours. So you will listen to this.”

  A guttural groan shook his body, but he paused his attack.

  She smiled, not hiding from the power she realized she held. “You make me laugh and challenge me, but you also listen to me. You are an entirely unique man, Caine—one that I know does not exist elsewhere in this world. The only one.”

  “I damn well better be the only one.” His hand on her wrist lifted to grab her chin, stopping her next words. “Are you done yet? Because I am about to burst I need so badly to take that bottom lip of yours in my mouth, suck it. Slip my tongue down the front of you and stop at your breasts. Tease my hands up your thighs.”

  Ara’s gaping mouth clamped shut, and she swallowed hard at his words. “Yes, I am done. All of that, please.”

  He smiled, wicked, but his words were serious, weighted with the world. “But I am not going to do any of that until you promise me, Ara.”

  “Can I just say yes?”

  “No. I can see you squirming, wanting everything I said and more. But I want you to know exactly what you are promising me.”

  “Speak quickly then.” Damn him for stealing the power and making her want with no relief in sight. She glanced at her hand on his belly. With her own wickedness curving her eyebrow, she slid her hand downward, fully clasping onto the straining bulge in his trousers.

  “Hell, Ara.” He grabbed her wrist, stilling her. But he didn’t remove her hand. Telling.

  “Listen to me now, Ara.”

  She looked up at him, stilled by the fierceness in his voice.

  “I want you without memory of the past, Ara. Without thinking of how we met. I want you because of who you are. Who I am. Now. In this moment. I want you because you love me. I want you to marry me, Ara.”

  His words hit her, shaking every fiber of her being. Everything. Everything she had ever dreamed about.

  Her lips shaking, she opened her mouth. “Heaven help me, I still love you, Caine—there will never be a time when I do not—for that fact alone, it is a yes. But I—”

  “It is a yes?”

  The words had almost slipped out. Words that would take away how he looked at her in this moment. He wanted her as she was today, he wanted to be done with the past. But he did not know everything he needed to of the past. Things that would void all of those words he had just said to her.

  Ara bit back the story he must never know. She nodded. “Yes.”

  His mouth crashed onto hers before she could rethink the decision, before she could confess everything that had haunted her heart, put a stain on her love for him. A stain that she had tried to wash out a thousand times, but never could.

  But then his tongue was deep into her, probing, demanding she react to him. His lips moved downward, his hands wrangling buttons and laces and freeing her breasts to the air. The wetness of his mouth captured her nipple, his teeth clamping with just enough pressure to make her nipple taut, make her lean back against his hand holding her up.

  She f
inished unbuttoning the front flap of his trousers before her body arched into him, out of control, demanding more.

  “Lift yourself, Ara.” The demand came from Caine’s mouth, muffled by the breast he was adoring.

  An order she did not think she could manage, but Ara set her palms along the sides of her legs on the desk and pushed. Her dress, stays, and chemise disappeared down past her waist and legs. He stopped at her shins, dragging off her boots and stockings.

  Bared to him, memory of the last time she was naked before him sent her arms flailing, but Caine would have none of it, capturing both of her wrists to hold her hands at her sides on the desk.

  “You are beautiful, Ara, and I have waited too damn long to tell you that. To take your body like I need to.” He looked up at her, the wicked gleam back in his blue eyes. “Like your body needs me to.”

  His head dove back to her chest, trailing kisses, his tongue slipping along her skin. Downward, between her ribs, along her belly. He was to her abdomen before Ara realized where he intended to go—where his chin already was.

  She gasped, squirming, but his grip on her wrists clamped tighter, forcing her still. Ara could not shift, could not breathe for the wretched pounding he had just created in her core with that one movement.

  His elbows shifted to her thighs, spreading her legs before him. He dipped downward before she could resist, his mouth slipping to her folds, parting her to his teeth, his tongue plunging, circling.

  Ara could only gasp, jerking forward, her body held in place by his clamps on her wrists and her curling around him.

  The begging happened instantly—nonsensical words, his name, and curses she could only utter again and again—the raging build attacking her body from every nerve. He tugged, sucking harder at her words, and then shifted her hands behind her backside, locking her in place and forcing her core to meet the lash of his tongue with every uncontrolled rock of her body.

  The onslaught continued until she gripped him with her legs, her body arching backward as the thousand tiny explosions turned into a raging ball that erupted, ravaging as it spun through her body.