Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow. Anne O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ between her breasts, diverted with sly ease to tease her nipples. Refusing to halt when she drew in her breath and stiffened beneath the onslaught of his mouth. Pushed on the assault when she sighed his name against his throat and melted in his arms. Lovely. Impossibly lovely. Soft as silk. A little murmur of delight when his fingers brushed low, lower yet to touch, slide and discover, taking for his own her most intimate secrets. Her thighs parted willingly, hips arched now in blatant invitation. Hot and wet, satin-soft, compromising his banked desire. When she pressed against the heel of his hand in convulsive response, his control came close to destruction.

      Yet still, as he knew she would, she resisted the demands of her own body, afraid of the flames which grew and leapt and threatened to consume.

      ‘Do you trust me?’ He stilled his hand.

      ‘Yes.’ The merest sigh.

      ‘Then don’t think. Just feel. Let your mind go.’

      Aware that the pressure was building within her from the shivers that ran along her limbs in his embrace, the thud of her heart beneath his lips, he harnessed all his own needs to capture her mouth in a kiss of blazing desire, pushing her to the very edge, to give her that ultimate release. Until she struggled against his body and would have pushed him away in a sudden moment of panic and fear of the unknown.

      ‘No.’ He gentled his hold, but would not retreat. ‘Take what I can give you.’

      He drove her on, ruthless now with determination to give her that intimate experience of her own body, until she cried out, sharp, shocked. He crushed his lips to hers to swallow her cries as she shivered uncontrollably against him, clung to him with gasps of astonished pleasure. Exactly as he had hoped. And triumph swamped his veins in a floodtide, as she quivered from the aftershock, face buried against his chest.

      ‘Look at me.’

      Sarah saw herself in his eyes, dark with passion, unfathomable as the waters of a bottomless lake, as he wiped the spangle of tears from her cheeks, tears that she had not been aware of shedding. ‘I want to see you when I slip inside you. And you to see me. There is no danger here for you, darling Sarah.’ He watched her, at that moment completely enslaved, yet unaware of the endearment.

      ‘Yes.’ As was she. She raised a hand that trembled to his lips. ‘Now.’ It was so simple a word, and all the invitation he needed.

      ‘It must be so. For you are too alluring to resist any longer.’

      With sure and elegant strength he moved to pin her body with his own and thrust hard and deep. Held himself there to prolong the pleasure for her, for himself. So intimate an invasion that enclosed him, filled her, overturning the mind of both except for their joy in each other. Slick skin against slick skin, her legs entangled with his, his body owning hers. She watched him, eyes caught and held, emotions naked to his gaze. For a moment he thought that she might have more than an affection for him. Then the fleeting shadow was gone. Hunger and desire, potent and dark, swept over him as Sarah bit her lip to prevent her expressing her love in words that might still return to haunt her. But now she could show him in other ways. So he began to move within her and she mirrored the thrust with innate delight. Until he pushed them both to that precipitate edge. To fly and fall, taking her with him, feeling her shudder again as his own control shattered.

      ‘What was that?’ Still pinned beneath him, Sarah could only glory in his power and weight. It seemed to her that any sensible thoughts she might have were still scattered through the heavens, as her limbs were heavy with splendidly overwhelming exhaustion. It was outside anything in her experience. She did not think that her heart would ever again settle into its old pattern.

      Joshua raised his head, lifted his weight on his arm, brushed back the fall of hair from her face so that he could kiss her lips with exquisite tenderness. A tenderness that made her heart tremble.

      ‘A miracle, I think. A miracle.’

      ‘Yes. So I think.’ And after a little pause: ‘I do not know what came over me, Joshua.’

      ‘Thank God for it.’ She caught the glint of his smile in the moon’s brightness. The candle had long since burned out. And she sighed in an unexpected and strangely moving happiness.

      Joshua felt her smile against his shoulder, and his heart rejoiced. She trusted him. He could ask for nothing more. Because, as he slid into sleep with her, it mattered more than anything other in his previously selfish and wilful life that she did.

      * * *

      ‘My Lord Faringdon. I did not expect to see you here.’ Wycliffe rose from his seat in his unremarkable office in the City, his face set in deep lines of disapproval. Nothing in the austere surroundings, in the inconspicuous building off Fleet Street, would point to the importance of this man to national security.

      Lord Faringdon was not in a mood to be impressed by the standing of his host or his efforts to remain invisible. ‘I am sure you did not.’ He bowed with controlled grace.

      ‘Perhaps it would have been better, my lord, if you had not sought to draw attention to yourself or to me.’

      ‘So you might think, sir. On this occasion, I do not.’

      If Wycliffe was critical, his lordship was icily correct.

      ‘You look in the best of health again, my lord. I trust your bones have knit well.’ For a compassionate enquiry, it was delivered in a distinctly unfriendly tone.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘If I might be permitted to say—’ the two men still faced each other, standing, across Wycliffe’s desk ‘—you should not have found it necessary to make contact with me other than by discreet channels. You must be well aware of this, my lord.’ Wycliffe’s lips thinned with displeasure.

      ‘I understand you perfectly, sir.’ Joshua’s jaw was rigid with suppressed anger. ‘In fact, I wrote you a letter—but decided to come in person, so that I might express myself more effectively. And be assured that you did not simply consign my complaint to your fire-grate and continue to issue instructions against the well-being of my wife.’

      ‘So it is a matter of some importance?’ Wycliffe’s voice rose sufficiently as to make it just a question. His hard eyes expressed no acceptance, but they failed to intimidate.

      ‘I find it so. My wife is being followed by an individual who looks suspiciously like Felton. I wager that it is your doing. Felton was always a favoured employee of yours in such surveillance work.’

      ‘Of course. Felton is very good.’ There was no guilt here.

      ‘May I ask why?’ Lord Faringdon remained remarkably calm when faced with this clear admission of Wycliffe’s involvement.

      ‘We were not informed of your intention to marry again.’

      ‘I was not aware that I must inform you on a matter of so intimate a nature.’

      ‘Of course you should have informed us. Your previous marriage was a disaster of the first order.’ There was an edge to Wycliffe’s patience. ‘We learned a hard lesson with Marianne de Colville. It could have destroyed our whole espionage network, here and in France. It was pure chance that one of her letters was intercepted before any further damage could be inflicted. I would not wish for history to repeat itself with the lady who is now Lady Faringdon. It surprises me, my СКАЧАТЬ