The Viscount's Wicked Ways

by Anne Mallory

  She loved this man.

  He took his time examining and lightly mapping her skin. He ran his thumb over her breast, and her breath hitched audibly as she fought a moan. He leaned back down, bringing their bodies closer together.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered against her neck as he sucked gently at her pulse point.

  Her breath caught again, and she tipped her head back to allow him freer access. He continued the exploration of her neck, as if she were a seven-course meal, and he wanted to savor each taste. His free hand ghosted down to stroke her. His fingers curled into her, and her hips involuntarily bucked at his ministrations. Her eyelids felt heavy, her skin so warm. And he was doing that thing again, the thing that had caused her to burst the night before.

  He kissed her, harder than before and crooked his fingers. She felt as if she were reaching toward something, toward that same burst. It were as if she were climbing a hill, and with each step the journey became more intense.

  He pulled back and divested himself of the rest of his clothes. She watched him, knowing what would come next and anticipating it. Anticipating the intimacy and the feelings and just being with Thomas. He stood before her naked, dark, chiseled, and beautiful. And then he was back, stretched alongside her and taking her back into his arms.

  His kisses became more fierce, but his caresses were gentler. She tensed as she felt him nudge into her. “Sweet, fiery, Patience.”

  His mouth moved to her breasts and he pulled a nipple inside. She cried out and arched back, and he slid another inch within her, the feeling even more incredible as his hips continued to slowly advance, keeping pace with his mouth’s strokes.

  She had seen enough statuary and pictures, and been privy to enough gossip to understand what was happening. Well, the motions at least. She had only been able to guess at the feelings before, and they exceeded every expectation.

  His slow advance picked up pace, until he drew back, teasing her entrance and making her feel hot and needy. All she knew was that she wanted him back inside. She put her hands on his backside and tried to pull him to her.

  He chuckled. “In a moment, lovely. You are so tight, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He continued the onslaught of slow advances, and it felt like she might die if he didn’t stop teasing her and finish what they started. He kissed her, devouring her from the outside while he stroked her on the inside. One hand reached between their partially joined bodies and rubbed. She squealed into his mouth, and he thrust all the way in.

  There was some discomfort for a second, as if the remnants of something had broken, but then his fingers rubbed the spot again, and she arched upward. She caught his eye, and there was confusion and questioning beneath the heat and possessiveness she saw there. She arched, wanting to feel the sensation again, and his eyes closed and mouth parted.

  Pulling his mouth toward hers, she kissed him with all the passion and love that she felt. He responded immediately, and, instead of the short teasing strokes, he pulled back and thrust all the way in again, seating himself as deeply as possible. She couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped as he moved within her again, and again, and again. And then he was returning her noises, and they were kissing harder and more frantically. The walk up the hill had turned into a sprint and she felt as if she were flying at the top of a mountain peak, caught indefinitely at its apex.

  And then he pushed one last time, and she fell, soaring down the side. And he seemed to soar with her as his body pulsed inside of hers. He buried his face in her neck, whispering words that she couldn’t identify.

  She curled into him as he collapsed next to her, breathing in the moonlight and even the distant smell of the rose gardens, stroking his back as he stroked her hair.

  It was minutes later when their breathing had returned to normal that he spoke. “You are new to sex.”

  She felt a twinge inside at the way he said the word sex. As if they had tried a new type of croissant. “Yes.”

  “You were a virgin.”

  She gave him a confused glance at the undercurrent to his words. It was a statement, but she felt compelled to answer anyway. “Yes. Did I do something wrong?”

  He stayed silent for a few seconds. Seconds that felt way too long. Fear replaced her contentment.

  “You were a virgin. I don’t understand. Everyone says—”

  She pushed him away, cutting off his stabbing words and reining in the tears that threatened. She saw confusion and anger in his eyes, eyes that quickly became shuttered against her. How could she have been so naive? She had wanted so desperately to believe…and really, that was the crux of the matter.

  She threw her dress back on, ignoring the lacings, and draped her wrap to hide the state of her clothes. He stayed silent throughout, obviously needing to say nothing now that he had gotten what he had come to the garden to do. It took every ounce of her courage to meet his eyes.

  His face was closed, but there was a hint of something lingering in the air between them. Her emotional pain didn’t allow her to analyze it.

  “Yes, everyone says…they also say you killed your sister. Maybe you did.”

  Pain washed through her. “And maybe I should stop believing in fairy tales,” she whispered. “Good night, Lord Blackfield.”

  Patience gathered what was left of her dignity and quickly exited the maze without looking back, her hope shattered beneath the moonlight and wicked sky. She had thought she had moved past the rumors and the innuendos and the disrespect. Had moved past her own foolish naïveté to recognize when someone was using her. Someone who was just like the others, wanting to capitalize on the rumors and her ruined name. Someone she had foolishly given straight access to her heart.

  Chapter 18

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. How long would it take before she learned her lesson? Her father had said one of her best qualities was her ability to forgive. Even to forgive her tormentors. Right then she thought it possibly the worst quality to possess.

  She felt no better come morning.

  How had she been so naive when it came to Thomas? The man had tormented her during their first week at the castle. Then he had changed overnight to a mostly friendly, seductive devil. And she had completely accepted his transformation! In fact, she had reveled in it after the first few days.

  He had been charming, witty, intelligent, eyes always sparkling, challenging her to unlock their secrets. Ah! The man completely validated her hidden fear that there were only two reasons men were interested in her. The first, and most obvious, that she was reputed to be fast. The second, and less used, that she could advance their careers or studies.

  She could kick herself for mooning over a man who had coldly seduced her.

  Patience flopped into a chair. A tear slid down her cheek.

  Great risks reap great rewards. Great risks also wreak great disasters. She had been a great risk her entire life just by being different. It had worked for her in her professional life. Never in her social life. She had wreaked havoc in London, and the consequences still followed her. Thomas had seemed like such a great reward that she had risked again.

  She covered her eyes. Heartbreak was just another adventure. She repeated it, but she still felt terrible. She’d have to tell her father that positive thinking was difficult in the midst of an emotional crisis.

  Thomas was only one man. Granted, he was the only one who had sparked any sort of real feeling in her. After meeting dozens of disappointments, he had seemed like a diamond. But there had to be others out there.

  Just not others necessarily for her, a little voice muttered.

  Patience shushed her internal voice and stood resolutely. Quickly pinning up her hair, she got her face into some semblance of shape. She headed for her workroom, to throw herself into her tasks. She had a job to do, after all. And a pillow to cry on.

  She avoided Thomas during the morning, and since he skipped the noon meal, he seemed to be avoiding her as well. Patience made no attempt at conversat
ion, choosing listlessly to push her food about instead. Both Caroline and John gave her concerned glances, but she fibbed and said she still had a slight headache from the day before. It was only a minor fib. She had a headache, true, but it was spawned by a tall, dark lord, not chemical fumes. Dark lord fumes instead. The thought was almost comical, but she couldn’t dredge up a laugh.

  After lunch, Patience stood unseeing in front of her afternoon’s assignments. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking of the previous night. She hadn’t waited to hear him out, true, but he could have either stopped her or sought her out. A part of her wished that she had stayed and argued. At least there would be some closure. Or, dare she still hope, reconciliation?

  She was becoming decidedly maudlin and pathetic.

  She decided a short lie down was definitely in order, as she felt the press of tears and the grogginess of too little sleep. She flopped onto her bed and pulled the coverlet over top. The usual sounds of the servants, birds, and work noises buzzed around her. She wondered if Thomas was out there working, adding more calluses to his perfect hands.

  She buried her head and made good use of her once-dry pillowcase.

  “She is not a spy.”

  Samuel looked baleful. “This again?”

  Thomas shook a finger at him. “You say one word about her, and I will do something you’ll regret.”

  “But are you sure?”

  “Quite,” he said succinctly. “And all those rumors about her are untrue. Shoddy research, Samuel.”

  “Oh, ho! You bagged her then.”

  Thomas punched him, and Samuel went sprawling across the floor. Thomas flexed his fingers. “I suggest you remain in your rooms today to fix that bloody nose. If I hear you’ve said one thing to her, or to anyone, I will not be responsible for my actions.” He turned abruptly and marched from the room.

  “But she’s just a woman!” Samuel called after him. “What’s different about this one?”

  Everything. Everything was different about this one.

  Thomas approached Patience’s workroom, experiencing an awkwardness that he hadn’t felt in a decade.

  Patience was hard at work. In the late afternoon light her features looked drawn and pinched, as if she hadn’t slept much. Lord knew he hadn’t slept well.

  When she left him he had stared dumbly after her, his mind reeling with the new revelations as she ran from the garden. He could not fathom the revelations nor the idea that she was leaving him.

  He had believed the fabrications about her. Fabrications easily seen through if he had looked harder. In hindsight, he could admit that he hadn’t wanted to look harder. He had wanted to believe she was experienced. Her natural, open, responsive nature had reinforced the notion, and he had blithely ignored anything that might have suggested otherwise. Because he wouldn’t have seduced her if she were an innocent, would he have?

  He had avoided virgins. She was his first. And only, a voice whispered, your first and last. And that was another thing. He had expressly avoided deep friendships or entanglements ever since his sister’s death. Somehow Patience had wormed her way inside.

  He had spent all day thinking about her, and had come to the conclusion that for her to behave as she had, she had to have a strong depth of feeling for him. He knew she was capable of it, she obviously had strong ties to her father, Jeremy, the man who transported the items, and even her cousin, John. Everything Thomas had learned about her in the past few weeks had pointed toward sincerity, and a somewhat naive sense of others.

  So if she had allowed him to make love to her…not allowed, participated eagerly and fully…then she had to have some depth of feeling for him. She would see it as an intimate act between two people, unless he was reading her wrong. And he really hoped he wasn’t, because all of a sudden he found himself craving that affection from her.

  He had really gotten himself into a pickle.

  Patience turned to face him, possibly sensing his presence as he stood uncomfortably in the doorway. She lifted a brow in inquiry.

  He had no idea what to say. “Do you have a minute?”

  She worried her lip. He loved the habit, as it never failed to bring his eyes to her delectable lips. She chewed on them whenever trying to decide something.

  “I suppose. Come in.”

  He entered and after thinking about it for a second, closed the door so they wouldn’t be overheard. He felt oddly protective of her. Other than his sister, and to a lesser extent his aunt, he had never felt protective of any female. He pushed the emotions back. They were too confusing at the moment.

  Patience’s face was a study in uncertainty and nervousness.

  How to begin? “I didn’t make love to you because I thought you were fast. Wait, no, I can’t lie, maybe that was a part of my initial decision to seduce you.”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “No, I’m not explaining myself well.” He was nearly sputtering. He never sputtered. “I just don’t want…no, I want…what I mean is…I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he finished rather lamely.

  Her eyes softened a fraction, and he took that as a good sign.

  “I thought maybe I could take you on a tour.”

  Confusion entered her gaze. “I’ve been here three weeks and have toured most of the castle.”

  He had to do this. It was the only thing that would fix his mess, the only thing that would show good faith. “No. I would like to take you on a tour of the perimeter buildings.”

  She blinked. As peace offerings went, it wasn’t a bad one. He would reveal what he had been hiding during the entire duration of her stay and their somewhat strange relationship, if what they even had was a relationship. That line of thought was making her angry again, and she really did want to see the perimeter buildings.

  “I’d like that.”

  Relief warred with anxiety on his face, and she marveled at the sudden openness in his expression. She relaxed a bit. Maybe she hadn’t been wrong about him after all. Perhaps just a little premature.

  Still, it was best not to raise her hopes too quickly. The next hour would be a good way to gauge him. She just needed to trust her judgment again.

  Thomas was a complex man. He possessed dark secrets, and Patience had a feeling that this expedition wouldn’t uncover them all, but at least it was a start.

  “Let’s go.”

  Thomas held out a hand to her and firmly tucked hers into the crook of his arm. He waited until they were outside before speaking.

  “I know you’ve been snooping around the buildings.”

  She gave a nervous laugh, to which he smiled. “Have you not?”

  “With all the strange noises and events, it’s hard not to be curious.”

  He nodded. “I know. That is precisely what we feared when we knew we would have extended guests. It’s no problem to shut down operations for a day or two. But difficult to do for a few weeks. That is too much time. The men get restless, and the projects, well, some of the projects don’t take kindly to being left lying around.”

  Patience chuckled nervously. Living things didn’t take too kindly to being left…

  He pulled up short before they could enter the first building, the one in which she had fainted the previous day. “Before we enter, I need your promise that you won’t reveal what you see to anyone.”

  She bit her lip. Her initial reason for sneaking around, other than her curiosity, had been to save the world from his mad schemes. That was before she had fallen in love with the madman though. She looked into his eyes and nodded. “I promise.”

  He opened the door, and she stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the silence of the hall. Thomas ushered her down the hall to a door at the end. Treading cautiously, she followed as he opened the far door. Sounds of buzzes and pops reached her ears. She was leery of the noise, since it was what had preceded her “nap” the day before, but she gathered her courage and stepped inside.

  There were as many as ten men working in
the large, domed room. Workbenches strewn with glass and metal contraptions littered the space, and the men were pouring, peering, or dipping things into the liquids. All at once they seemed to be aware of her presence, and ten pair of eyes darted between Thomas and her. Thomas waved over the rotund man who had helped her move the sarcophagi.

  “This is Jim Jones, whom you’ve already met. Jim is in charge of our chemical and potions projects. The Boyle Building and laboratory are his domain.”

  She held out a tentative hand, and he shook it after an infinitesimal pause.

  “Thank you for helping the other day.”

  “No problem, Miss Harrington.”

  Jim turned back to Thomas. “Have you seen Samuel? He was supposed to help with the testing.”

  Patience felt Thomas stiffen next to her. “Samuel is feeling poorly today. Under the weather. We hope he will be back to full health tomorrow.”

  Thomas lifted her hand again. “I’m just going to show Miss Harrington around, don’t let us bother you.”

  From his desperate expression, Patience knew Jim wanted to say something, probably to ask why in heaven’s name Thomas was showing her, an interloper, their secrets, but he refrained and simply nodded. Tightly.

  Thomas introduced her to each of the other men. Most seemed friendly and eager to show off their products. Sleeping potion, headache potion, finish remover, “ground” remover (she shied away from the explanation on that one, the man had looked a bit manic), fertilizer, the list went on.

  Their smocks were stained with dark, murky colors, which explained the bloodlike substance that had been smeared on Jim’s clothing when she had thought he had been attacked by the monster. One mystery possibly solved.