He pulled away from her core as the rolling waves consumed her body, his grip on her wrists loosening as he brought her hands above her head. Shoving papers off the desk, he eased her backward and flat onto the wide expanse of wood. He released his grip on her wrists, leaving her hands stretched high above her head, and grabbed her hips, angling her on the desk so her legs had support.
Every spec of her body vibrating, Caine followed his earlier trail upward until his face was hovering over hers. She cracked her eyelids to find his blue eyes searching her face, his brow creased and straining.
His lips delved down to hers, consuming her senses. She could taste herself on his lips, on his tongue as it slid next to hers. Unusual. But not bad. It tasted exactly the way this moment should.
His lips moved against hers, his breathing fast. “Ara, are you mine?”
She couldn’t talk, only nod, her eyes half closed.
“Speak it, Ara.”
Battling against the surges still rushing her body and stealing her ability to move, she pulled one weak arm down, grabbing his shaft fully, the silk of his skin sliding along her palm. She opened her eyes fully to him, only to find the strain had etched even deeper into his features.
“I am yours, Caine. And you are mine.”
A growl clawed from his chest as he covered her mouth, the sound vibrating on her lips, and he slid into her. Pain. And then only him. Him filling her.
“Hell, Ara, are you adjusted? Tell me I can move.”
“Move.”
And then the odd, glorious sensation of him sliding in and out of her, his breath on her neck. He pulled out, and his fingers went between them, his thumb plying her folds once more. He matched his thrusts with strokes of his fingers, and Ara felt it again, building deeper within her this time. So deep and so out of reach she nearly wished for her own grave.
“Ara.”
The thick word filled her ear and his body expanded deep within her, the swells from his shaft pushing her over the last barrier and sending her to a scream only partially muffled by Caine’s mouth.
He collapsed on her for a heavy breath, almost crushing her, but holding himself aloft. With an exhale that shook his whole body, Caine wrapped her in one arm and spun them on the desk, balancing the length of her on top of him.
He adjusted so his back was fully on the desk, one leg straight, one leg hanging off the side edge, and then he wrapped his other arm around Ara’s waist.
Their panting evened out, and Caine tightened his hold around her. “Damn, Ara. If we had just done that six years ago, I could have saved myself years of cold baths and a number of bottles of good brandy. Honor be damned, I think I honestly do not care how you’re in my arms, just that you are. Selfish man that I am.”
Ara shifted her arms that she had tucked onto his chest, her forefinger moving up to play with the line of his jaw. “I am here because I want to be—because you are still my everything, Caine. That has never changed.”
He kissed the top of her head, his head clunking on the desk as he set it back down. “Then I must confess, I already have the special license in-hand. It was the first thing I did when I arrived back in town.”
“You already have the marriage license?” Her eyebrows flew up as she craned her neck to look at him. “Your confidence astounds me sometimes. Am I that easy to manipulate?”
He chuckled. “You know very well I have never been able to manipulate you. No, I just decided to borrow some of your unfailing optimism. It is a trait of yours I am trying to emulate.”
“So that is where all my optimism went. My well of positivity has been sorely lacking as of late.”
“Impossible—I do not think you capable of losing your optimism.” His hand went to her hair, twisting a lock around his palm. “Do you know how I always tell you that you do not understand the world I live in?”
She shifted, resting her chin on his chest so she could watch him without cricking her neck. She tapped her finger on his chin. “Yes. And you know it drives me to bedlam.”
“Well, I guess I can join you in the madness, Ara, because the optimism flowed easily once I came to the conclusion that I want to be in your world. It is a much better place to live in. You do not dwell on what others think is right and wrong, you just make your world as right as it can be. You don’t hide behind facades and gates and propriety. You go forth and live your life, respecting, but not bowing to the confines of society. From the moment I met you, you have always found a way to rise above the horrors that man can create.”
“You do the exact same, Caine—you have enabled every step I have taken since we met.”
He shrugged, noncommittal at her words. “Possibly, but it is how you live. It is genuine. I knew it the day my brother died. You found me broken, and that was the very first time in my life when someone had cared enough to touch me in comfort.”
His fingers trailed down her back, gently swerving along her spine. “And you barely knew me. You didn’t care that it was not proper to touch me, to hold me. That world—your world—where it is acceptable to love someone—to have compassion. To live your life with open optimism. I am none of those things by birth and rearing, but with you…with you I am.”
Dread seeped into her chest. “You are not turning your back on your title, Caine, are you? Because I will not be the cause of you losing who you are. I love you no matter what happens in the future—but the title, your mother and your sisters, and all of the people who depend on you—it is who you are.”
“Yes, the title is a part of me, but it has driven me for too long. No more. I will not turn my back on it, but it is far past time that I decide how the title is used. And I will devise a way to keep the estate solvent.” He looked at her, a smile crossing his face. “Or we will devise a way. I would be daft not to expound every good idea from that magnificent brain of yours. Just look at what you have built with the Baker Street house girls in the last six years, Ara.”
“It is Greta’s genius.” Her mouth stretched in a humble grin. “But I will concede that I am adept at recognizing an opportunity.”
He smirked. “Thank goodness. I do not want to have to start our life together trying to convince you of your own brilliance.”
“No? I think that is the perfect way to start our life together.”
He squeezed her, a shriek of laughter his reward.
“Speaking of starting our life together, will you be ready to marry me in two days? One day to prepare and then we will wed the next morning. I will leave you alone tomorrow so you can prepare anything you need to, but I want you in my bed, Ara. I want to be done with this dance where I have to curb myself from touching you—wanting you and never having you.”
She stared at his blue eyes glowing in excitement. “I would marry you this instant, Caine, if there were a clergyman in the room.”
“He might frown upon our lack of clothes.” Caine tucked a lock of hair that had fallen across her brow behind her ear. “I only allow the one full day because I want you to find a dress you adore and gather up Mrs. Merrywent, Greta, and the rest of your lovely Baker Street house brood. It will give me a chance to find and pin down Fletch—a wedding is the last place he would like to be, but as it is not his own, I imagine I can drag him along. Actually, if you will accompany me to the Halton’s party this evening, I think he will be in attendance. You will have to bring along Mrs. Merrywent, of course. I can arrange for an invitation.”
Her eyebrows cocked. “Right into the fire for me, then?”
“You would like to wait until you are officially the Countess of Newdale?”
Ara sighed. She wasn’t afraid—no, if she was honest with herself, she was afraid. Theirs was not a common match amongst the ton, and aside from the many drawing rooms she had been in with the ladies of society, she had never been exposed in a social situation with them.
She swallowed down escalating fears. One issue at a time. And the most important issue she needed to deal with at the moment was to marr
y this man.
Her cheek lifted in apology. “Is it wrong of me to want to wait until after the wedding?”
“No. I think it is smart of you. You rarely step somewhere without thinking of possible consequences.”
Ara pushed herself up, her limbs creaking from the hard angles they had been stuck in. “What about your mother, your sisters?”
“They are hiding at Villsum House. My mother was quite mortified that her son was jilted, and she is avoiding all of her London chatterboxes at the moment. And I am not about to wait for her presence to make you my wife.” His eyes flashed dark for a moment. “You realize it will take her a while to accept you. You are not exactly the match she had in mind for me.”
“I do.” Ara untangled her legs from his and sat on the edge of the desk, suddenly quite aware of her nudity in the middle of the study. Looking at Caine’s desk would never be the same, and she doubted she would ever be able to add up another column of numbers in here without being driven to distraction. “But as long as you do not take issue with that fact, I do not either. She cannot dislike me forever, correct? Especially if we hurry along in producing some heirs to the Newdale line?”
Caine sat up, slipping his hand behind her neck and pressing his lips onto her forehead. “And that is why I love you, my heart. You have your optimism back.”
“It is hard not to be idealistic when I am looking at your naked body.” She grinned, hopping off the desk and noting for the first time the wide-ranging mess they had made on the floor. Papers, envelopes, and cards from Caine’s desk had scattered far and wide. “Look at all of this—has your man-of-affairs not been keeping up on your correspondence? He was instructed to hire a secretary for you. Especially since you were away at Notlund Castle—that man is not terribly detailed.”
Ara bent, starting to gather the papers.
“Yet I cannot help but be woefully grateful for the man’s lack of detail right now,” Caine said, smirk in his voice.
She glanced up over her shoulder at him. He stood behind her, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a statue of glory in his manhood. “Grateful?”
“His oversight has produced a view right now that is beyond extraordinary.” Caine’s blue eyes slipped down, ogling her backside high in the air. He slapped her buttocks.
Even though it sent a tingle firing through her core, Ara’s eyes narrowed on him. But then she couldn’t contain her own smirk. “Crass bugger.”
Ara dropped the papers in her hand, leaning to the side to reach her chemise and then pulling it over her head. She picked the papers back up, continuing to collect them in her arm.
With a chuckle, Caine knelt next to her, shuffling papers together in a pile. Ara lifted a few sheets of crisp vellum with Caine’s monogram emblazoned along the top, and a red note appeared from underneath.
Ara dropped to her knees, falling back on her heels as she silently set down the pile in her arm and picked up the note. She broke the seal, opening the card before Caine glanced up at her.
“Blast it.” He scooted to her side, grabbing the edge of the note.
Ara wouldn’t let him tear it from her fingers, her eyes flying over the words.
He yanked at it, the edge of the cardstock slicing along her forefinger.
Her eyes flew up to him as she clutched her finger, rubbing the thin line of blood the paper drew. “It is in two days, Caine.”
His jaw instantly set hard. “No. Absolutely not. We are done with that business, Ara.”
“No, we are not, Caine.” She grabbed his forearm, her fingertips sliding along the silky hair on his skin. “We will never be done—we have to save the innocent ones.”
“I am not spending my wedding night buying a virgin in a brothel.”
“Then we will get married the day after.”
His head shaking, his eyes pinned her. “We have to end it, Ara. It is too dangerous. Going to that brothel, buying the virgins—it almost ruined me at Notlund Castle. I could have lost everything in a flame of scandal had the Duke of Letson not acted with discretion. He could have let my actions be known to all, and that would have been the end of me.”
“But you could have just told him what you were truly doing. That you were saving the girls instead of using them.”
“When I say I could have lost everything, Ara, I did not mean the estate. I meant the girls I have bought. I meant you, Ara. I could have lost you. That is what I could not bear.”
Her right cheek scrunched in confusion. “What? How?”
Caine shook his head, his fingers dragging across his eyes. “Hell, Ara, how can you still be so naïve about this? Anyone who cares to find out could discover I own the Baker Street house. Discover I underwrite the House of Vakkar. If I confess why I really buy the virgins, it does not take a genius to determine where many of them have ended up. It will be the end of any respectability the Baker Street house girls have. Any respectability you have.”
“Us? But why?”
“You were all sold at the brothel, Ara. There is no greater scandal than that.” His voice dipped lower, suppressed rage lacing his words. “What happens to each of them if all respectability is taken from them? From you?”
Her arms folded across her ribs as her shoulders sank. “Utter ruin.”
“Exactly.”
Head dropping, her fingers rubbed her forehead. Her eyes flipped up to him. “But—”
“No—look at how much this already nearly cost me, Ara. We cannot continue this madness, and I regret that we have let it go on this long.” His hand landed on her shoulder, sliding inward to rest at the base of her neck. “We will never win this battle, Ara. There are too many girls. And there will always be more. It is an immortal evil, Ara.”
Her eyes cut into him. “Are you suddenly a coward, Caine?”
His hand dropped from her neck, his fingers curling into a fist. “Take care with your words, Ara.”
She pushed herself up to balance on her knees, rounding him so her face was directly in front of him. “I am taking care, Caine—it is you that is speaking blasphemy by abandoning those innocent girls.”
Caine heaved a sigh, his eyes travelling to the ceiling, and she could see he was holding himself back from throttling her for calling him a coward. But she didn’t care—she would call him anything she needed to in order to get him to change his mind. To help the innocent ones.
Another sigh, and his look dropped to her, his blue eyes darkening. “So we are locked in the past, Ara—the same place as we were six years ago?”
“Locked in the past? Do not try to change the subject, Caine.”
His hands whipped out, vises around her upper arms. “The past is the current subject, Ara. And I am done with the past. I will no longer allow you to be anywhere remotely near the line of danger. I have finally figured out exactly what the most important thing in the world to me is, Ara, and that is you, dammit. And you are not going to be injured. And you are not going to be ruined. And you are not going anywhere where I cannot protect you.”
She jerked back, stung at the roar rolling through his body, at the ferocity in his face.
His chest vibrating with each heaving breath, he dropped his hands from her arms.
Fingers shaking, Ara pushed herself to her feet, silently grabbing her dress and stepping into it. It sat awkwardly around her chest without her short stays, but she wasn’t about to take the time to put that layer on.
She needed to leave. Leave before she said something she would regret. Promise something she had no right to promise.
Tugging her boots on, she stuffed the laces next to her calves without tying them.
Out. She needed out.
Going to the door, her hand stilled on the knob as her head dropped, her forehead resting on the thick oak.
She could not fight Caine on this, but he needed to know. Needed to know what he was demanding of her.
Her head bowed, Ara opened her mouth, her voice a raw whisper. “Do you know it is me, Caine? Every t
ime we save one of them…we are saving me. The me from six years ago. The terrified girl that wanted nothing more than to die, that wanted to sink into that earth and disappear and stop everything. To just die and…” Her voice cut off, a silent sob swelling from her belly and stealing her words.
Her eyes closed, squeezing back tears.
Out. She had to leave. Turning the knob, she shuffled backward as she pulled the door open.
It slammed shut, the knob ripping from her hand.
Caine’s hand stretched flat on the wood in front of her eyes, his arm brushing her ear.
His other arm wrapped around her belly, and then his hand on the door dropped, capturing her fully, pulling her into the length of him. The harbor of him.
His breath invaded her skin, hot on her cheek. “I will go, Ara.” He drew in a deep sigh, his chest hard against her back as his voice ached. “Heaven help me, we will both go as usual.”
{ Chapter 14 }
Finally, solace. As the door closed to Lord Halton’s library, Caine leaned back against the tall dark panels of wainscoting, attempting to loosen his furiously tight shoulders.
Damn his fool promise to Ara that they would go again to the Jolly Vassal. He needed to end this—end this unholy obsession that they both had with attempting to change the past. He could now see with clarity that the past was an unyielding mistress—always provoking and never bending to attempts of appeasement.
A mistress that had its claws far too deep into his love.
Hell. He was starting to question his own belief that he could get Ara to change her mind. Saving the innocents from the brothel was her lifeblood—the thing she had held onto for the last six years. And he had assisted her with that obsession every step of the way in an attempt to assuage his own demons.
Demons he was done with.
Caine considered again on having the current owner disposed of, but when he had done that six years ago to the man responsible for Isabella’s death, the brothel hadn’t even closed for a day. He had learned an important lesson—there was always another snake ready to gorge on the innocent. And the girls coming through the brothel had been getting younger and younger in recent years—he often wondered if he had replaced one bastard with a shred of integrity, with another bastard devoid of any sense of decency.
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