Abigail Jones (Chronicles of Abigail Jones #1) (30 page)

His lashes trembled. Then a savage groan tore from a place deep within him, and he began to move. With each thrust, his hardness opened me, touching places never before touched. He gave me no ground for I needed none. I blossomed all around him. The deeper he drove, the softer and wetter I became. His sounds of masculine pleasure were met with my own breath-filled sighs. The glowing warmth in my belly grew, the pressure building with each pounding stroke. My insides could not contain the luminous energy. Light seeped through my skin, dissipating all fear, all restraint.

With my flesh lushly caressing his, I looked into my beloved's eyes. "This is who I am," I panted, arching into his thrust. "Your lover, Hux. Yours forever."

"Abigail." His eyes blazed with cobalt fire. "My love, my own ...
my God
—"

His fingers delved between us, touching the place where we joined and heaved against one another. Whimpering, I felt my pleasure rise to a delirious pitch as he titillated my clit. At the same time, he began to shove inside me, ever deepening lunges that forced the air from my lungs. Yet I wanted more. I wanted everything he could give. I urged him on with my hips, my sultry pleas. As he slammed into me again and again, the energy in me roared, an escalating inferno of ruby-hued flame—

I screamed, the release exploding with sudden ferocity. Light shattered through my being. His mouth closed over mine, drinking in my sobs, pouring back his own guttural shout as the world spilled over with molten heat. As everything transformed to golden stillness. Nothing left but the body sheltering mine. Nothing but him and the rapture of surrender.

THIRTY-SIX

I don't know how long I drifted. The clanking of metal pierced my reverie. As the chains fell from me, I heard a soft oath, and warmth rubbed against my wrists.

My eyelids swept open. "Hux?"

He lifted his head from where it was bent over my hands. Beneath the gazebo roof, his eyes glowed with a sated quality. Yet his mouth held a grim line. "How are you feeling, my love?"

"Fine," I said and blushed.

His gaze lowered to my wrists, which he continued to massage with a soothing touch. In low, rough tones, he said, "Can you ever forgive me? I am a brute to do this to you. There's no excuse—"

Pulling out of his grasp, I reached to touch his jaw. His skin bristled beneath my palm; the warm tingling echoed the aftermath humming sweetly in my blood. "I wanted to make love with you." As his lips tucked gently into my palm, I added, "You believe me now, don't you? That I love you? That I'm no demon?"

"I believe you." His vivid gaze caused my insides to flutter with joy and relief. "I was a fool to have doubted the truth of my own heart. With all that I am, I adore you, Abigail Jones. Every unique, enchanting, beautiful iota of who you are."

Swallowing back tears, I said, "And you forgive me, for not telling you the truth straightaway?"

"If you can forgive me for not trusting you and all that transpired this night," he said somberly, "then I would say we are more than even on that account."

I nodded and pressed fervent kisses on his knuckles. "I promise never to lie to you again."

That drew an unexpected chuckle. "I trust you will do your best, little one," he said, his eyes gleaming, "and that is all I would ask for. In the meantime, I have some atoning to do where you're concerned. I am going to lay the world at your feet, my darling. You're going to have everything—"

"All I want is you," I said.

His eyes shone, bluer than any heaven I could imagine. "You have me," he said simply. "God help you, Abigail, but you do. At the next possible opportunity, you'll hear me swear that in front of a bishop." He kissed me then, not with his usual impetuosity, but with a reverence that made my heart sing. With obvious reluctance, he released me a moment later. "But for now, my love, we must deal with the matter at hand. I have a story planned. We will say the victim was beset by footpads when we happened by—"

The sound of an approaching voice had us both turning. "Abby! Abigail Jones! Are you there?"

"It's Jack," I whispered. "He brought me here—"

Hux had already thrown his jacket over my shoulders and pushed me behind him just as the familiar figure entered the meadow.

"Stay behind me," Hux ordered.

"It's just Jack. He must be worried. I left him—"

"Abby, is that you?"

The apprehension in Jack's voice punctured me with guilt. Despite the large, bristling male hiding my view, I called out, "Yes, Jack, it's me. I am fine. I've found Hux, as you can see, and all is well. There's no need to concern yourself."

Footsteps stomped upon the stairs, and a glow spread onto the floor of the gazebo.

"You heard her, Simon," I heard Hux command. "You are not needed here."

"I'm not leaving until I see Abby," came Jack's reply.

With a sound of impatience, I tried to push Hux aside. He did not budge. I had to satisfy myself with peering around him like a child playing hide-and-go-seek.

"I'm perfectly fine, Jack," I said.

Jack looked at me and back to Hux. Belligerence toughened his demeanor. His stance widened, his arms crossing over his chest. "I don't think you are, Abby. Best you come over to me right now. I will take care of this."

"I am her fiancé," Hux said evenly. "Her place is with me."

"You're not married yet," Jack said.

I winced, feeling the tension leaping off Hux's frame. I wedged myself around him and stood between the two glaring males. Really, I thought with a twinge of annoyance, they were behaving like two mongrels fighting over a bone.

"Stop it," I said. "I am a grown woman and can make my own decisions. Jack, thank you for your assistance tonight—I do not know what I would have done without you."

"You might have stayed at Hope End like you were told," Hux said.

I gave him a sharp look. His brows formed sardonic arches.

"I'm not at all sure I've done you a service, Abby." Turning back to Jack, I saw the concern in his green eyes. His mouth formed a tight line, and he did not respond to my attempt at a reassuring smile. "In fact, I think I've delivered you into the hands of the devil."

"Don't mind his lordship," I said quickly. Feeling Hux's looming impatience behind me, I knew I must handle the situation with all due expedience. "He's just ... overwrought because we happened upon a crime, you see. Cutthroats were attacking the poor woman there on the grass, and he rescued her. I came upon him just as he was doing so. And just now we were talking about how to get her to safety. Weren't we, Hux?"

Hux kept his gaze on Jack and did not say anything. So much for help from that corner—and after my efforts to adhere to the story he'd come up with, too.

"So you see," I rushed on, "everything has been quite above board."

Looking skeptical, Jack raked a hand through his hair. "Then what happened to you, Abby? Why do you look so ... disheveled?"

I had forgotten all about my appearance. Heat scorched my cheeks as I realized how I must look after ... after ... desperately, I turned to Hux. His expression did not change, but a faint gleam entered his eyes. The edge of his mouth quirked.

"In the process of assisting the earl," I said, with a baleful look at my supposed beneficiary, "I took a bit of a tumble. I ruined my gown and, um, landed rather injudiciously. That is why Hux lent me his jacket."

 "I can vouch for Abigail's helpfulness." At Hux's lazy, masculine drawl, my blush heightened. "In the heat of the moment, I can say with certainty there is one else I would turn to. She has a way with ... helping, she does."

Jack's suspicious look alternated between the two of us.

Even in the cover of night, I was certain my cheeks flamed scarlet. "At any rate," I said with as much dignity as I could muster, "we must get the woman back to her friends. They must be beside themselves with worry. Do you think you could help, Jack?"

"I'll carry her," he said.

"I do not require help," Hux said simultaneously.

They glowered at each other. I sighed. Was there no end to men's arrogance?

Deciding to employ a Mrs. Beecher tactic, I took charge by issuing directions. "Jack will carry her. I will take the lamp. Hux—" I cut him off with a glance before he could interrupt, "you will assist me. I find I'm a bit shaky after the events of this evening."

"You are unwell?" Before I could respond, Hux pulled me into his arms, his intent eyes running over my face. "Why did you not say so earlier? After everything you have gone through tonight, I should have known better—"

"Everything is fine," I said in a soothing tone. "I am just fatigued, is all."

Behind me, I heard Jack grunt. Apparently having seen enough, he descended the steps to examine his cargo.

Lines of worry fanned from Hux's eyes. "Of course you are, my love. What was I thinking? We must get you to a comfortable room, a hot bath. I must attend to you."

"We must finish here first," I reminded him in a whisper, though my pulse skittered at the thought of his further attentions. "Why don't you collect your things whilst I keep Jack distracted?"

"Do not worry, Abigail. I'll take care of everything," he said.

*****

When we arrived back at the crowded center of the gardens, the party had reached a full, ribald swing. No one even seemed to take notice of us: Jack with the blonde woman dangling in his arms, me bedraggled and wearing a man's jacket over my chemise. Not to mention Hux, who held me at the waist as if I might be blown over by the slightest breeze. In truth, we did not look that different from the couples around us.

Miracle of miracles, we found an unoccupied bench near the packed dance pavilion. Jack set the woman down and ran his sleeve over his forehead. "We'll never find her people at this rate," he shouted over the din.

He was right. The crowd was sea of faces at this point, all of them drunken. How were we to find the woman's escort—if indeed, she had even had one?

"Wait here. I'll be right back," Hux said.

Jack gave a curt nod.

I watched as Hux made his way through the milling masses. He did so with seeming ease; I could not help but admire the way his towering, sleek form and confident stride seemed to inspire those in his path to remove themselves posthaste. Bemused, I could not believe such a man had been shuddering in my arms but an hour earlier. A firm grip captured my hands, shaking me from my reverie.

"Abigail," Jack said urgently, "we must leave."

Startled, I looked at him. "But we can't. We must stay with her. Hux said he will return shortly—"

"Damn the bloody earl," Jack snarled in a manner that seemed alien to his even-tempered nature. "I don't know what's gone on tonight, but I don't like it. You're a good girl, Abby, and you deserve better than the likes of him. Don't let his money blind you—he's a bounder, and he'll hurt you given half the chance. That is, if he hasn't done so already."

Staring into Jack's earnest face, I felt my heart clutch. "You're a good friend, Jack," I said in a low voice, "and I thank you for your advice. But you must understand that Hux is my fiancé. I love him, and we are to be married. I cannot allow you to speak of him in that way."

"Are you so certain he intends to keep his promise? You'd not be the first maid to find herself seduced and discarded by her master."

My pulse pounded. "Hux is a gentleman, a man of his word. And how I conduct myself is no business of yours, Jack Simon."

"It could be," he said, and something in his intent gaze made my stomach flip. His hold on my hands tightened. "I could make it my business. Would I be such a bad catch, Abby?"

My breath stuck in my throat. Before I could think what to say, Jack pulled me against him. His lips covered mine.

Stunned, I needed a moment to regain my senses. Then I pushed hard at his chest. He let me go, and I stared at him, my lips still tingling from the astonishing contact.

"You should not have done that, Jack," I cried. "You—you are my friend. Nothing more."

Unrepentant green eyes held mine. "What if I want more, Abby? What if I was to offer you what he cannot? Respectability. My good name."

I shook my head in bewilderment. "Where is this coming from? Is it because Hux means to marry me? Is that why? Now that someone wants Abigail Jones, she is fodder for all?"

"No, Abby."

Seeing his flush and feeling a rush of confusion, I blurted, "What would your mother say about this, Jack Simon?"

"I'm not tied to her apron strings," he said flatly. "I'll choose my own wife, and she'll learn to live with it."

Taking a deep breath, I said, "But it won't be me, Jack. I have always valued your friendship; you and Mary Jane have been so good to me." I took one of his hands in mine, willing him to understand. "I love Hux. I have made promises to him."

His thumb grazed over my knuckle. "And if circumstances change?"

"They will not," I said and quickly let go of him.

His eyes flickered beyond me, and the old, crooked grin flashed upon his face. "Han't anyone ever told you, Abby? Never say never."

At the same instant, I sensed a presence behind me. I swiveled to see Hux regarding us with an impassive expression. His eyes were hooded, and I wondered how much he had overheard.

"So is this the female in question, milord?" This came from the short, stout man beside Hux. Sporting a constable's uniform, he was peering over at the woman on the bench.

Hux's mouth tightened. "Yes. You will see to her safety?"

"O' course, milord. I know who she is," the policeman replied dourly. "Goes by the name o' Mary Times—trollin' for business tonight, no doubt, and found more than she was lookin' for."

I shivered. Little did he know. Hux's arm slid around my waist, and I leaned gratefully against his warm strength.

"I must take my fiancée home," I heard Hux say. "You have my card if you need to reach me."

"Right-o, milord." The constable tipped his hat.

Hux led me to the exit with Jack following behind. Once we were on the street, I turned awkwardly to Jack. "My thanks again, for everything. I ... I suppose I'll see you in the village?"

"Not for awhile," he said. "I've always wanted to come to London. I'll be staying on a few days, I think. Take in the sights and maybe that science exhibition I told you about."

My eyes widened. "Oh. How well do you know the city? Do you have a place to stay? Perhaps Hux could—"

"Don't worry about me, Abby," Jack said. "'Tis yourself you should have a care about."

Silently, Hux extended a hand. After a moment, Jack took it. The men exchanged a brief handshake.

"You have my thanks for what you did this evening, Simon," Hux said.

"I didn't do it for you," Jack said.

Hux gave him a wry look. "I know. Nonetheless, I am in your debt, and I do not like being so. If you have need of anything, come to me."

Jack nodded. Beneath the streetlamp, his hair glinted like a newly minted coin.

"I guess ... this is good-bye then," I said.

"I'll be seeing you, Abby," he said.

With a lopsided smile and a wave, he was gone.