by Lucy Monroe
It finally dawned on him that the little baggage was teasing him, and he growled against her throat.
Using his teeth, he pulled the fabric of her dress away to expose one firm, round breast. Her breath hitched and then expelled in a long hiss as he took her nipple into his mouth. He suckled her for several seconds, working his tongue over the hard nub until her breast rose and fell in harsh rhythm against his mouth.
Her hands curled into fists against his chest. "Pierson."
He loved it when she used his first name. It implied she was aware of him on a wholly intimate level. He was the only one who brought her to this place. The only man she had ever allowed to touch her body so familiarly.
Primitive possession and male satisfaction coursed through him. She did belong to him. Now and forever. He gently released her nipple from his mouth and showered her breast with tiny, biting kisses.
Squeezing her bottom, he rubbed her against his rigidity. "Do you feel me, Thea?"
"Ye-es."
"Can you feel how hard I am?"
Her answer was to give him a hot, openmouthed kiss that sent his mind reeling.
He broke his lips away from hers. "Will you give me the relief I seek?"
She met his gaze, hers serious and intent. "Is it merely relief you seek?"
He could not believe the doubt he read in her eyes. "You are what I seek. I need you, Thea. I have never felt this desperate to touch and be touched. I have been furious with you for refusing to marry me."
She sighed. "I know. You feel obligated to marry me after I seduced you aboard ship. You have been angry that I would not bow to the dictates of your honor."
His laughter startled him. How did she always manage to do this, amuse and exasperate at the same time?
"Honor has nothing to do with my anger, sweetheart. I want to be in your bed every night. Sometimes I lie awake for hours aching to hold you. Without marriage, I don't have the right."
She kissed the side of his cheek, near his ear, and whispered, "You are holding me now."
Yes, he was. Their discussion of marriage could wait until afterward. His body would not be denied another moment. Evidently hers would not be either, because she slipped her hands between them to undo the buttons on his pants. Her fingers rubbed against him as she worked the buttons and he groaned, sounding like a man in purgatory.
Which he would be until he could be ensconced in the haven of her body. "Hurry, sweetheart. I cannot wait much longer."
"I can't either."
Finally he was free. She circled him with her fingers and squeezed. He let out a feral shout and almost tumbled them both off the small sofa.
Stroking him up and down, Thea gave him a mischievous smile. "I believe you were in the process of groveling, were you not?"
He brought one hand around and slipped his finger into the dewy curls at the apex of her thighs.
Rubbing the swollen nub he found there, he said, "Please."
She arched into his hand and gave a muffled cry against his shoulder. He continued touching her while she writhed against him, her breath labored and uneven. He took her silence for acquiescence and tried to tip her back onto the sofa. She resisted, pushing against his chest to keep him in place.
Did she want him to beg some more?
But the look in her eye was not one of teasing. She looked like she was trying to work something out. He held his breath. If she were coming up with valid reasons not to make love, he was doomed.
Keeping his manhood in one hand, she slipped forward until his tip pressed against the opening to her feminine center. He could not believe what was happening. Was his innocent Thea planning to ride him?
From the look of concentration on her face, he had to assume she was.
She smiled. "It will work like this, won't it?"
He nodded, his tongue frozen in his mouth.
She let go of his shaft and he could not help surging upward and into her.
Her eyes went wide as her tight passage stretched to accommodate his hardness. "You feel bigger than I remember."
He forced himself to remain motionless. "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head. "No. It feels…" Her voice trailed off and she moved experimentally against him. "It feels wonderful."
Sweat trickled down his temples. "Yes, it does."
She rocked against him, increasing her rhythm and the breadth of her movements until the pleasure began to build at the base of his hard flesh. He pressed against her back so that as she came forward with each thrust, her sweetest spot rubbed against his pelvic bone.
She sucked in her breath, her eyes closing and her head falling back. "Oh."
He lowered his head to her breast and teased the swollen peak with his mouth. Her fingers locked in his hair, their grip frantic. He welcomed the small pain, not knowing how long he could hold out, but determined she find her completion first.
"Pierson. Oh, Pierson. Oh, Pierson." She chanted his name as her rhythm increased to a frenzied level.
"That's it." He looked up from her breast, and his breath caught in his throat at the look of rapture on her face. "Yes, just like that. Let go, Thea. I want to feel you lose control."
She did, her entire body convulsing. Her feminine muscles clenched around his hard member until he felt his own release as inevitable as daybreak well up in him. He thrust against her, once, twice, a third time. She shuddered anew with each thrust, and when he shot himself inside her, tears pooled in her eyes.
"I can feel the warmth of you filling me."
"You are mine." He thrust against her again and felt himself drained dry by her sweetness. "Do you understand? I am not just in you. I am part of you."
She collapsed against him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. "When we make love, I cannot tell where I leave off and you begin. It is as if our bodies are one."
She couldn't know how revealing her words were. She might not realize it, but she had as good as admitted that there was no going back for them. They were too linked, inescapably connected by the miraculous things that happened when their bodies united.
He held her for several minutes, the room silent but for their harsh breathing slowly returning to normal and the sound of the mantel clock ticking away the passing time. He let his gaze wander around the library and smiled. He would not have described this particular room as seductive, but he would never again be able to enter it without thinking of this time with Thea.
The clock chimed the hour and she stirred against him. "Your aunt will be expecting us in the drawing room for tea soon."
He carefully disentangled their bodies, gently setting her off his lap. "You are right. If we are to discuss our investigation, we must hurry."
"Is that why you came?"
He shrugged. No need for her to know how desperate he had been to touch her.
She grinned. "You got sidetracked."
"Yes. But now we must focus on the task at hand."
She stood up and brushed her skirts into smooth folds again. "So you are saying that you had no intention of seducing me when you came into the room?"
He couldn't see her face as she bent to straighten her clothes, so he could not tell if she was teasing him or not.
He sidestepped her question. "We need to discuss the thief at your shipping company."
"Oh, that must be why you locked the door. You didn't want to be disturbed or overheard discussing that sensitive subject."
His hands stilled in the process of tucking his shirt back into his pants. "Are you mocking me, Thea?"
Her head came up and the sparkle of amusement in her eyes brought an answering smile to his lips.
He stalked toward her and breathed in satisfaction at her retreat. "You tease me at your own peril, little baggage."
She tried to dart around him, but he caught her. "If we were not expected downstairs for tea, I would exact retribution."
The smile left her face.
Her blue eyes grew luminescent. "I must be shameles
s because even knowing that your aunt expects us, I want you to."
He caressed her cheek. "Admit you belong to me."
He hated the look of wariness that settled over her features. He bit back a stream of curses only with great effort. He kissed where his fingers had just touched.
She sighed and turned until her lips touched his.
She kissed him gently, then stepped away. "I'm afraid."
Her admission touched him. It could not be easy for a woman with her pride to admit the weakness of fear.
"What is it you fear, Thea? Do you fear me?"
He didn't even like asking the latter. The possibility that she might say yes tore at his insides. She had said once she believed him to be like her father. Did she believe that still?
She turned and moved toward the desk. Stopping, she absentmindedly turned the pages of the ledger sitting on top. He wanted to repeat his question, but forced himself to wait patiently for her answer.
"I fear marriage. I fear living in England amidst people so preoccupied with one's appearance that they cannot possibly know a person's heart. I fear for my uncle's safety, that I will not discover the thief in time. I fear my aunt will die and leave me when I have just found her." Her voice broke. "How could I have waited so long to come? She invited me often, but I waited. Because I was afraid."
The last of her words came out in a broken whisper. He strode across the room and laid his hand on her shoulder.
She turned her face until their eyes locked.
She gave a small, sad smile and shrugged. "I believe I fear myself most of all."
Her honesty humbled him.
He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He didn't ask her what she meant. He understood what it was to fear oneself. Growing up, he had refused to look in a mirror for fear of seeing the resemblance to his father that others had remarked upon. He didn't want to become the kind of man who would seduce and then abandon a lady.
He had often wondered why his father had ever courted his mother. He had known from the outset that Lady Noreen's marriage portion would be tied up in legal settlements. The thought that his own father was so dishonorable that he had pursued an innocent woman for the sake of conquest alone chilled Drake to his very bones.
He had feared that same failing might reside in his own heart. Until he met Thea. Every protective instinct he possessed had come roaring to the surface when he met her. Although he had craved her touch almost from the first moment, he had never once considered making her his mistress or taking her maidenhead and then moving on. He wanted her forever.
He would do anything to protect her, including pressuring her into a marriage that she thought she didn't want.
But not right now.
Making love had softened her, broken down some of her defenses. If he pushed her, she would draw those defenses around herself in an impenetrable wall. He rubbed her back until he felt her relax against him.
He rocked her from side to side for several minutes of silence before releasing her and stepping away. "Let's talk about Merewether Shipping."
Her eyes widened as if she had expected him to pursue the earlier conversation, but he was too much the tactician to lose ground in an effort to gain it.
Their investigation was a much safer topic of conversation. "Did you find anything else in the ledgers?"
Thea frowned at his question. "I have found nothing so far, except evidence that the thieving has not stopped." She slammed the ledger on the desk shut. "There must be a clue in here somewhere as to who is responsible, but I cannot find it."
"It's fairly obvious who the culprit is, Thea."
She cocked her brows at him. "Who?"
"Emerson Merewether."
She traced the letters on the bound leather cover of the ledger. "No. I don't believe it. He's so much like Uncle Ashby. There must be another explanation."
He shook his head. "It has to be someone who has access to both the ledgers and the warehouse. Thea, who else could it be?"
"What about his assistant? That Barton fellow. He looked shifty to me."
He smiled at her description. "Shifty?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Didn't you see the way he dressed? Too stylishly for a shipping clerk. And he insisted on staying to hear our discussion."
Drake moved around to sit at the desk. He opened the ledger that Thea had shut and looked at the neat entries. "He's more than a shipping clerk. He's Emerson's assistant. His preference for dandyish clothing does not make him shifty, and he did not insist on staying. He offered and left immediately after Emerson declined that offer."
"Don't you see? He's just clever. He knew better than to insist, so he casually offered—and I don't think we can dismiss the possibility that there could be other suspects. If Emerson runs his office at all like Uncle Ashby, there are many times during any given week when the records are accessible to whoever might come by his office."
"I very much doubt that Emerson is that lax. Life in London is not like it is on the island."
She frowned. "I've discovered that, but I still think we should consider the possibility."
"And I think you are allowing your affection for Ashby Merewether to bias your feelings toward his nephew."
"Emerson as the culprit doesn't make any sense, Pierson."
He paused. "You called me Pierson."
"It is your name, after all."
"But you have only ever used it on my insistence or when we have made love."
She shrugged. "We are on somewhat intimate terms. Calling you Drake seems a bit formal."
He had thought so after their first kiss.
"Uncle Ashby has no children," she said, going back to the original topic, the telltale pink of her cheeks betraying how discussing their intimacy affected her.
"So?"
"Emerson knows that his uncle's half of Merewether Shipping will eventually go to him. He has no reason to steal from a company that will eventually belong to him."
"Unless he needs funds now."
She bit at her lower lip. "I suppose."
"I'll have my man of affairs conduct some inquiries into Emerson's financial circumstances."
Her brows drew together. "What about Barton?"
"I'll have him investigated as well."
She nodded. "Good. You need to watch out for those self-effacing types."
Drake smothered a laugh.
She was really reaching, but once the investigation was complete would be soon enough to shatter her illusions about Emerson. Merewether's nephew or not, he was the likeliest candidate for the thefts. Not to mention the attempts on Thea's life. If Drake discovered that Emerson was indeed responsible, the jovial man would lose his affability … permanently.
Thea leaned toward her aunt and whispered, "Does she not realize she is singing a tragedy?"
The young debutante entertaining her parents' guests at the preseason musicale smiled charmingly as she sang of her lover dying beneath the waves of the open sea.
Lady Upworth whispered back, "She's showing off her best asset. Hopes it will make the gentlemen forget she can't sing worth a pence."
Wincing as the smiling girl hit another discordant note, Thea had to agree.
Lady Boyle, who sat on her other side, had nodded off. Thea was amazed that Drake's aunt could sleep without allowing her head to list to one side. If anyone were to look, they would assume she had closed her eyes to focus on the music. Thea knew better and she envied the older woman's oblivion to the indifferent entertainment.
The ability to escape the unpleasant must run in the family because Drake had also managed to avoid the untalented singer, having disappeared almost as soon as they arrived. It annoyed Thea. He was the one who insisted on announcing their pretend engagement to the entire world. The least he could do was to stay by her side and deal with the curious stares and pointed questions posed by the perfectly correct, but not always polite, members of the ton.
Lady Noreen had h
ad the good sense to skip the entertainment altogether.
The awful song finally ended. Thea made to stand, but her aunt's hand arrested her. With dawning horror, she realized that yet another young lady had come forward to entertain them.
The blushing girl sat down next to a large harp and began to slide her fingers across the strings. Hope surged through Thea at the lovely sound until she realized that sliding her hands up and down the strings seemed to be all the young woman knew how to do. By the time the song ended, she was sure she never wanted to hear the harp again.
The harpist was followed by a pianist who played passably, a flautist who did not, and another singer who shook with nerves through her entire song. When her aunt's measured breathing indicated she, too, had fallen asleep, Thea began to feel acutely persecuted. The evening had been her aunt's idea after all. Why bother to come if she intended to sleep through the program?
A young lady with a pixie face, golden brown eyes, and blond hair, who sat on the other side of Lady Upworth, caught Thea's eye and gave her a commiserating smile. Thea returned her smile, feeling warmed by at least one friendly face among the ton.
They both turned to face the front again at the same time, and it was only as her gaze settled on another debutante that the message her brain was trying to give her pierced her consciousness. An image rose in her mind of a sketch she had studied many times. The girl in the sketch was smiling and had two charming dimples, just like the young lady sitting on the other side of Thea's aunt.
Thea took another surreptitious look at the young lady who had smiled at her in such understanding. It was. She was certain of it. Why had her aunt not warned her?
Perhaps because she believed you would then cry off the entertainment tonight, a small voice in her head accused.
Her heart began a swift palpitation; her palms became sweaty inside her gloves and her eyes smarted with unaccustomed tears.
The young woman seated so demurely beside her aunt was Lady Irisa Selwyn, Thea's half sister.
* * *
Chapter 15
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Lady Upworth has written that Estcot has returned to town. I never told her that he was the one who had caused the rift between Langley and myself. Apparently he left Town around the same time I did. He has returned, and under a cloud. He has gotten some country squire's poor daughter pregnant. She refused to marry him and even attempted to take her own life to avoid it. Once the story got out, he was completely ruined in the eyes of the ton. He has finally gotten his just deserts.