“Make love to me,” she whispered, astounded by her own brazenness.
He leaned back, flushed, his eyes bright with passion. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” she said, leaning into him and lifting to her toes so that she could kiss him as ardently as he’d kissed her. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
He made a sound of acceptance and excitement, sliding his arms around her again and bringing her flush against his naked chest. His mouth slanted over hers, drawing a sigh of longing from her as his tongue thrust alongside hers. Everything about him was delicious and overpowering. After years of stress and fury, all Solange wanted was to feel soft and aroused. Nothing else mattered.
His hands moved to the front of her bodice, making quick work of the row of buttons down the front. He pushed her high collar aside and bent to nibble at her neck as she reached behind to unfasten her skirts. It was wild and dangerous—exactly the sort of thing one of the McGoverns would do—but Solange didn’t care. She wanted his hands on her body, she wanted his mouth on her skin, and she wanted his cock deep inside of her, damn the consequences. She’d spent too long closed up to deny herself the sort of dazzling openness Lord Sinclair offered now.
“You’re beautiful,” he panted as he pushed her bodice off her shoulders and dropped it, and her skirts with it, to the floor. “I don’t usually fall into bed with women as fast as this, but I cannot help myself.”
His confession only served to arouse her more. “I wanted you even before I knew who you were, or weren’t,” she panted, stepping backward toward the bed as she unhooked her corset and tossed it aside.
“If you thought I was Lafarge’s son, knowing that you are Lafarge’s daughter—” he started.
She silenced him by pressing her fingertips to his lips. “We’re not. Let’s forget it was ever a consideration.”
“It’s forgotten,” he said, then captured her mouth in a searing kiss.
He tugged her chemise up over her head as she loosened her drawers and shoved them over her hips. Within seconds, they had both shed the rest of their clothes and tumbled onto the bed together. He rolled her to her back and nestled himself perfectly between her thighs.
“This is glorious,” she gasped as he brushed his fingers over her side and down to her hip. He kept going across her leg, lifting her knee and opening her wider so that he could fit himself against her.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said.
Those were the last words either of them could manage. He kissed her long and lingeringly as his hands caressed her, then shifted to nibble his way across her neck and downward. His mouth was so eager as he reached her breast, lifting and squeezing it as he closed his mouth over her nipple, that she groaned in appreciation and squirmed against him. His tongue worked magic on her nipple, teasing it to a sensitive point and raking it with his teeth. Her whole body filled with sensation as she gave herself over to pleasure.
He didn’t stop there. With another powerful shift that showed just how strong he was and how masterful he could be, he kissed his way down her belly to her sex. She arched her back, stretching her arms over her head and surrendering fully to him. He, in turn, gripped her knees and spread them farther apart in a move that was commanding and sensual. She shivered at the sensation of being completely at his mercy, then cried out in pleasure as he brought his mouth to her sex.
He knew exactly what he was doing, with his lips, his tongue, and his hands. The intensity of pleasure she felt as he licked and stroked her, then slipped his fingers inside of her, was devastatingly good. As much as she wanted to linger and enjoy every potent sensation, her body leapt to the point of orgasm in no time. She was ready and straining toward the edge so fast that it dazzled her. His fingers worked magic, but the way he swirled his tongue around her clitoris then gently sucked was what snapped her control.
She cried out wordlessly as she came, her whole body throbbing with pleasure as he continued to tease and torment her. It was so good that she closed her eyes and narrowed her focus to the throbbing in her sex. He moaned in appreciation as she shuddered, and as the intensity of her orgasm began to fade, he shifted his body over hers and plunged into her hard and fast.
Her eyes flew open and she gasped at the sensation of him filling her. He was large and thick and stretched her to an almost alarming degree. His thrusts were needy and insistent as well, driving her to a whole new level of pleasure. She arched into him, wrapping her arms and legs around him and urging him to take her harder and deeper. Her panting in time to his thrusts turned into cries of joy that matched his increasingly urgent sounds, until he let out a shattering cry and came inside of her. The moment was beautiful, sensual, and she didn’t want it to end.
Their bodies remained hot and entwined as the urgency to mate left them, transitioning into a floating, spent peace and intimacy. He sagged on top of her, and she held him tighter, not wanting him to leave her quite yet. As rash and unlikely as their mating was, she wasn’t ready to let go of the way it made her feel. In fact, she was certain that she wouldn’t ever want to let go of him. She’d found the ally she’d been missing at last.
Chapter 4
As far as Louis was concerned, it was a minor miracle to awake the next morning with Solange still in his bed, her luscious body draped partly over his. She was already awake as sleep left him, and when he drew in a breath and rubbed his eyes to make certain he wasn’t still dreaming, she grinned at him.
“I’m so glad I didn’t kill you,” she said in a purring voice.
Louis’s eyes popped wide and he sat up. “Glad you didn’t what?”
Solange made very little effort to cover herself as the bedcovers slipped down to her waist as she, too, sat. Louis was immediately distracted by the tempting sight of her round, firm breasts and their dark nipples. He remembered how they tasted and how Solange had sighed in pleasure as he’d teased them with his tongue. In spite of his surprise at her statement, his prick stirred to life.
Solange lowered her eyes, her lashes brushing gently against her cheeks. “I’ve been trying to kill you for weeks,” she confessed. A flush of color painted her face, making her look every bit as charming as her words were not.
“Kill me?” Louis didn’t know whether to be angry or anxious, or whether to roll her to her back and show her just what she would have missed out on if she’d gone through with her apparent mission. Perhaps Sebastian was right after all when he warned that Solange was dangerous.
She bit her lip and glanced up at him. Louis didn’t have to be a genius to see that she was attempting to seduce her way into easing his negative reaction to her statement. He was a little surprised that it worked so well.
“I thought you were Lafarge’s son,” she explained. “I saw you in his company in Abidjan all those years ago. And my informant at the Moulin Rouge confirmed that you were Lafarge’s love child.”
“Your informant? At the Moulin Rouge?” He was certain he looked like the biggest fool alive as he shook his head and attempted to take in what she was saying.
Solange reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “I can see now that Madame Boucher had incorrect information, and that what I saw all those years ago was not what I thought I saw.”
“It certainly was not,” Louis said, then let out a breath and softened his tone as he went on with, “Though I suppose I can see how you had the wrong impression.” He paused, studying her expression and finding no artifice there. She was being completely honest with him. “Your Madame Boucher gave you incorrect information, but I am well aware that the rumors still persist.”
A sudden, endearing smile came to Solange’s face, making her look far younger than she had before. “I am grateful that you’re so understanding,” she said. “Many men in your position wouldn’t take the news well.”
“The news that you were trying to kill me,” he said, his lips pulling into a smirk. He glanced to their joined hands on the rumpled sheet
s. After the night she’d given him, for better or worse, he was willing to believe anything good about her and discard the bad.
“My aim was to avenge the destruction of my family the same way Lafarge destroyed them. I wanted to eliminate his family and make him feel their loss. Only Lafarge never married or had children of his own. At least, legitimate children. You are the only one I was able to trace, and it turns out that you aren’t even his at all.”
Louis’s brow knit in thought. “I don’t believe you would have gone through with it.”
“Oh, I would have,” she insisted.
Louis studied her expression, the seriousness in her eyes. He shifted uncomfortably, turning the movement into an effort to lean back against the pillows and the headboard. He drew her into his arms, cradling her there and enjoying the way her skin felt against his.
“I’m glad you didn’t succeed,” he said. “That would have been an utter waste.”
She hummed in agreement, but didn’t make any further comment as she nestled her head against his shoulder.
“My plans for Lafarge weren’t quite so grand,” he went on. “I intended to get back what he stole from my mother, then to do whatever possible to discredit and ruin him.”
Solange lifted her head to stare at him. “What did he take from your mother?”
“A brooch,” Louis confessed. “A very old brooch with diamonds and pearls. It has been in the family since Tudor times.”
She blinked. “That’s it? A brooch?”
Louis pushed a hand through his disheveled hair and let out a sigh. “It’s the fact that he has it that bothers me. He tormented and victimized my mother for years. She took her own life because of him.”
Solange tensed against him. “I’m so sorry.”
He glanced at her, struck by the wild juxtaposition of old, bitter feelings and the pure comfort and enjoyment of holding her. “I need to get it back,” he said. “As a symbol of redemption if nothing else. Then you can kill Lafarge all you want.”
She smiled weakly. “I have an uneasy feeling that I am no longer capable of murder. Not even of Lafarge. Too many things have changed.” She punctuated her statement by spreading her hand across his chest and toying with his chest hair.
“So what do we do now?” he asked after enjoying her touch for a few seconds. “I refuse to let the whole matter drop just because I’ve found something sweeter to occupy my time.”
“I refuse to let it drop as well.” Solange straightened, staring into his eyes with determination. “Lafarge will pay for all he’s done. To both of us and to everyone else we do not even know about.”
Louis agreed completely, but as the two of them sat there, not a thing came to mind that felt like a quick solution. He shook his head and moved to the edge of the bed to stand.
“We’re back at square one when it comes to Lafarge,” he said, walking to his washstand, well aware of Solange eyeing him appreciatively. “But at least we won’t fall into the trap of chasing false leads and working at cross purposes now.”
“We will have much more of a chance of succeeding if we work together,” she agreed, climbing out of bed and following him.
Louis nearly jumped out of his skin as she brushed her fingers down his naked back as he wet a washcloth in the basin. Her touch made him want to forget everything else but going back to bed.
“Are you shocked by my wickedness?” she asked, her eyes flashing with challenge as she gazed up at him.
“I’ve always liked wicked women,” he answered.
He let the washcloth drop into the basin and turned to embrace her, tugging her close. She fit so well against him. Her lips met his eagerly as he bent to kiss her, and she circled her arms around him welcomingly. It was sheer madness that he could feel so content and so attached to a woman whom he’d only known for a day, a woman who had tried to kill him, but they had so much in common. After one night, he didn’t want to let her go.
He had to let go, however. Aside from the stirrings he could hear through the walls that indicated other guests were rising, one of the palace’s maids attempted to enter the room to carry out her duties and knocked impatiently when she found the door locked. Louis told the woman to come back later, but it was a sure sign that he and Solange couldn’t linger, as much as they might have wanted to.
They washed and dressed, left his room and parted ways briefly so that she could return to her room to change clothes. But within fifteen minutes, they met up again at the top of the grand staircase, descending to breakfast together.
“Lafarge spends most of his time at the offices of Les Ragots,” Solange said as they went downstairs. “His living quarters are in the same building, on higher floors.”
“Are they?” Louis was encouraged by that bit of information. It meant that they were more likely to be able to trap Lafarge in one place.
“He has made many enemies with his gossip rag,” Solange went on as they reached the front hall, “so he is selective in the social events he attends. He rarely goes out in company, except to pass time and spend money at the Moulin Rouge.”
“That has been the only place I’ve been able to waylay him,” Louis said, rubbing his chin. And it had been hard enough arranging a meeting with the man there.
“I believe that if we are going to strike him, it will need to be in his home.” Solange lowered her voice as the McGovern twins came out of a side parlor, arms linked, and made their way a few yards in front of him and Solange into the breakfast room.
“You’re right,” Louis agreed. “But whatever we do, we have to do it soon.”
“For more reasons than one,” Solange said. “The McGoverns depart for Italy in less than a week, which means I will be forced to depart as well.”
The news hit Louis like a bullet in his heart. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready. He pulled her to a stop, staring at her forlornly, but unable to find words to express how much he wanted her to stay with him.
“This is our last chance,” she said in a whisper, gazing up at him with the same shades of regret in her eyes.
For a moment, they stood there, lost in each other. It might have been wrong for them to rush into an attachment with lightning speed in the most unusual and dangerous circumstances, but it was even more wrong for them to be wrenched apart so soon.
“That is quite an intense look.” Lady Briarwood sailed past them on her way to the breakfast room, a sparkle in her eye as she glanced at the two of them. “I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all, my lady,” Solange said, taking a large step back from Louis and hurrying on after her mistress.
Lady Briarwood paused and turned to her. “What on earth are you doing tailing me when you have far more interesting company to keep?”
Louis grinned in spite of himself. All the rumors he’d heard about the outlandish McGoverns was proving to be true. He continued on to the breakfast room, taking Solange’s arm in his to escort her into the already noisy and active room as he did.
The table was already packed with McGoverns as Louis led Solange to an empty chair and pulled it out for her, and conversations were in full swing.
“You will not disgrace your family by attending a common dance hall,” Miss Wendine Sewett lectured a group of the female cousins with the loftiest titles at one end of the table. “Countesses and Marchionesses must behave with propriety and above all, keep to their own class.” Her sharp emphasis was directed straight at Solange as Louis bent over to ask what of the many choices of breakfast foods on the sideboard she would like.
Louis straightened, unsurprised to find the termagant glaring at him. “Good morning, Miss Sewett,” he greeted her with a nod and a smile. “You are looking well today.”
“You are looking a little too well yourself, Lord Sinclair,” Miss Sewett answered. “Perhaps I should extend my sphere of influence to include guests and friends of my employers.”
“There is no need, Miss Sewett,” Loui
s said as he moved away from Solange to fix both of them plates. “I know the rules.”
“Apparently, you do not,” Miss Sewett grumbled. “Which is why I must take it upon myself to set straight you and anyone else who strays outside of the lines.”
“And what gives you the authority to set yourself up as the harbinger of all things right and proper, Miss Sewett?” Louis asked. It amazed him how quickly the inconsequential woman could irritate him, and everyone else. He reminded himself to ask Asher McGovern what on earth had possessed him to hire the woman.
“My opinions are correct, my lord,” Miss Sewett answered. “That is what gives me authority.”
Louis arched a doubtful eyebrow at her. He didn’t have a chance to say anything else, though. The entire room turned its attention to an agitated Lady Evangeline McGovern as she flew into the room, face pale, eyes wide, a copy of Les Ragots in her hands.
“It’s bad,” she announced in a dire voice, coming to a stop at the head of the table and showing everyone the magazine she held. “It’s very, very bad.”
“What is it?”
“What is the matter?”
“What have they printed now?”
The table erupted with questions, each cousin speaking over top of the others.
Louis abandoned his efforts to fetch breakfast and stepped closer to Lady Evangeline, glancing over her shoulder. He caught the headline “McGovern Shame and McGovern Secrets” before Lady Evangeline handed the gossip rag to Asher, who had marched forward with all the command of a general to take it.
“There’s an entire article in there, with pictures, about Roselyn dancing the can-can at the Moulin Rouge,” Lady Evangeline revealed.
“But I didn’t see anyone with cameras while I was on the stage,” Lady Briarwood protested.
Last Chance for Paris Page 4