Carnal Deceptions (23 page)

Sloan jumped to his feet, swung his arm to the right and took aim at Tess’s head. “Must have ridden here hell-bent for leather. I’d hoped to have her naked before you arrived. Predictable Jane. Foolish baggage, did exactly as I’d expected.” Through the slight quivering of the gun, Tess could see that Sloan’s hand trembled. The fear was justified. The rage seemed to vibrate off Tallon, yet the solid set of his jaw and the steely gaze gave him an aura of menacing calm. He looked like an emissary from hell. “Now put the pistol here where I can see it.”

With cautious movements, Tallon approached and set his gun on the table.

Sloan kicked his chair aside and shifted closer to Tess. “I know your nature, man.

You’ve come equipped with more arms than that. Get rid of them all, Marcliffe.”

From his waistcoat pocket Tallon withdrew a palm-sized gun and placed it beside the pistol.

“Let’s see what you’ve got tucked in your boots.”

He pulled a small dagger from the top of each of his Hessians. Those, too, joined the deadly little pile. After removing his coat, he turned in a circle to show that he’d relinquished all his weapons.

Tess watched her husband from beneath lazy, hooded lids. Their eyes met. “What have you given her?”

Sloan shrugged. “Handfuls of a potent aphrodisiac I purchased from an unscrupulous apothecary. I believe she is aching for a man’s attention right about now. Isn’t that right, Tess?”

Tess gave Tallon a smile that was raw with sexuality. He blinked at her in confusion. From the moment he’d burst into the room, his black hair wild around his face, she’d felt an immediate need for him. She would have thrown herself at him if she hadn’t had her wrists bound.

At the sound of metal scraping on wood, Tess turned. The pistol Sloan aimed at her wavered as he used his free hand to sweep Marcliffe’s weaponry toward him. He began lining the daggers and guns up side by side. “Why ever did you marry Marcliffe? He’s such a barbaric son of a bitch.”

“I didn’t choose to. He tricked me.” She winced as she said the words. The intoxicants had loosened her tongue. And the sight of her dizzyingly handsome husband had not helped the matter. “But look at him. He’s everything a woman could want.” She shivered with lust.
“He’s everything I want.”
With that last truthful admission, Tallon seemed rather shocked.

Sloan stroked his neck. The blood had dried where her nails had dragged over the length of his throat. Unfortunately, it had been the only successful strike she’d made before he’d bound her arms and thrown her into the vehicle.

“Fine.” Sloan shifted the pistol in Tallon’s direction and moved out from behind the protective barrier of the table. “You can soften the bitch up for me. I’ll take my turn after you. I’d enjoy that.” He smiled obscenely, revealing his perverse obsession with Tallon.

Tallon hurled himself across the room, driving Sloan into the wall. Loosened plaster fell to the floor. With one big hand tightening around Sloan’s throat, he slammed Sloan’s wrist against the wall. Using the heel of his free hand, Sloan bashed Tallon’s temple. Tallon reeled, his grip loosening on Sloan’s throat. Sloan managed to scrape his bloodied hand up the wall and take aim at Tess again.

The liquor had made the gun seem a vague irritation, but the murderous look on Sloan’s face made it suddenly all too real. Tess’s pulse pounded thickly in her ears.

Immediately, Tallon released his hold on Sloan, and, with hands held up in a placating gesture, he backed away.

Sloan used the gun as a prod in Tallon’s chest and forced him across the room. Tess rose noiselessly from her chair, stretched over the table and snatched up a dagger. She cupped it carefully between her hands and settled back on her seat.

Tallon’s calves collided with the settee and he fell back onto the cushions.

Without turning his back on Tallon, Sloan returned to his seat at the table. “Seduce the bastard,” he ordered Tess. Sloan’s eyes had an unnatural gleam. His anticipation was palpable.

Tess wanted Tallon so desperately, she was willing to do Sloan’s bidding. It did not matter that Sloan watched, it only mattered that Tallon was there. The short walk to the

settee made her head spin, and without her hands to steady her, she felt as if she were tipped at an angle. Still cradling the small dagger in her hands, she awkwardly straddled her husband’s leg, her skirts falling on either side of his thigh. As she toppled forward, he wrapped his hands around her arms and propped her up.

Tess did what her body demanded. With her knees braced on the couch, she rubbed along the hard muscles of his thigh. His leather riding breeches felt exhilarating against the soft folds of her sex.

Discreetly, she shifted her eyes in Sloan’s direction. “Promise me you will put me out of my misery before he lays a finger on me,” she said in a quavering whisper and parted her palms, giving him a peek at what she held.

Tallon’s fingers tightened, viselike around her arms, his eyes glossed with what she suspected were tears. “We’ll finish this later, love,” he said, and plunked her onto the settee beside him. He plucked the dagger from her hands, whipped around and sent the blade whirring through the air. It planted itself in Sloan’s shoulder.

Tallon ran at the table and shoved it with bone-crunching power into Sloan’s ribs before throwing it off him, overturning the table. The weaponry clattered to the floor, the bottle shattered, spilling its vile green contents. Tallon crashed a fist straight into his face. He landed two more brutal punches in quick succession. Blood poured from Sloan’s nose and mouth as Tallon grabbed his shirt, lifted him from the chair and hurled him to the ground.

“I may need this.” Tallon bent over Sloan’s prone body and wrenched out the dagger.

Sloan screamed out in agony.

Tallon wiped the blade clean on Sloan’s shirt before slipping the weapon back into his boot.

Tess’s head spun as she stood. Having to look up at her tall husband’s face made her dizzier. She swayed, and he grabbed her arm to steady her.

“You realize I want you more than ever now,” she said. “I thought as much,” he drawled.

“Shouldn’t we be leaving?” Standing on tiptoes, she looped her tied hands around his neck and pressed her breasts against his hard chest. A dimple creased his cheek.

His big hand squeezed her bottom. “Patience, rabbit. I need to drag this worthless devil to the constable’s.”

“But you never found the counterfeit money.”

“It hardly matters, considering the man just kidnapped my wife. It’s about time he learns what the inside of a prison is like.”

He untied the bonds around her wrists and used the ropes to secure Sloan’s hands.

Tallon straightened and turned back to Tess. In an instant, she was clinging to him again. “You’ve buttoned your waistcoat wrong,” she said with a laugh.

“I left in a bit of a hurry.”

She could not seem to focus. Her attention strayed to the strong line of his jaw and she reached up to trace it with her fingertips.

“I’ve only my horse, so you must stay here.”

Fascinated, she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke. “Tess, sweeting, promise you will not step one foot out that door.” He grabbed her arms and gave her a gentle shake.

“I promise.” Tess wanted him with such intensity that she nearly cried. Tallon turned around and hauled Sloan to his feet.

Sloan tried unsuccessfully to twist free. “Hell-born bastard.” Tallon propelled Sloan forward with a shove. “Move.”

Left alone, Tess did not know what to do with herself. Hoping to find relief from the heat building inside her, she moved to the window. She pressed her cheek against the cool glass. From this angle she could see the tall mast of what she surmised was Sloan’s ship. Tallon had saved her from a horrific fate. Yet she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. How she wished he had married her under different circumstances. Not to keep her from Sloan’s clutches, not just to have her in his bed, but because he truly loved her.

Fog was creeping in from the shore. Soon the cottage would be enveloped in mist.

She prayed Tallon would make it back safely tonight.

Not wishing to stay alone in a dark cottage, she went in search of candles. In a cabinet that held wine bottles and little else, she found an oil lamp and a tinderbox.

Comforted by the light the lamp provided, she decided to explore the rest of the small dwelling. The walls were painted a cream color and still smelled of fresh paint. She opened the door onto the only other room. A canopied bed with a crimson satin quilt took up nearly the entire space. Squeezed into a corner was a chair upholstered in the same red satin. The only other piece of furniture was a peculiar little marble-topped stand. The cottage would have been their destination after their elopement. Would Sloan have

created this brothel-like atmosphere if she had not insulted him in the garden by murmuring Tallon’s name? If he had still thought her the chaste daughter of a viscount? Even then, Sloan’s façade would not have held for long. The man’s true nature would have shown itself eventually.

Tess ran her fingers down one of the smooth wood posts of the bedstead. She kicked off her slippers and curled her toes in the lushly thick rug on the floor. After setting the oil lamp atop the marble stand, she stretched out on the soft mattress. The silken material felt utterly sensual against her skin. She hoped rest would weaken the desire that raged through her.

Tess started at the sound of a door slamming. Tallon shouted her name. He sounded panicked. She meant to respond, but her thoughts wouldn’t translate into words. Her head was still clouded with dreams of him, her limbs felt luxuriously heavy. Turning her face, she watched the door, waiting for him to find her. She heard him stumble his way through the dark. There would only be the thin light coming from beneath the bedroom door to guide him.

He made another crashing entrance. As he approached, she noticed the hitch in his step. Obviously, today’s adventure had aggravated his war wound.

“Why the devil didn’t you answer me?”

She slid off the bed, planting herself right in front of him. To balance herself, she clutched his lapels for support. “I’m sorry. I cannot seem to do exactly what my mind wishes me to do.”

“Forgive me. Your vanishing this morning has unsettled me.”

The man had absolutely no idea how much she loved him. She traced from the white scar that bisected his eyebrow to his strong jaw. Her fingers enjoyed the feel of the blue-black stubble that shadowed his face. “You didn’t shave.”

“As I said, I was a tad rushed this morning.” He scrutinized her. “Cyrus is bringing the carriage, but he’s probably still hours away. We’ll be staying here tonight.”

That’s a good thing
, she thought. She’d make a bloody fool of herself crawling all over him within the confines of the carriage. She moved her fingers to his lips so she could feel him speak. The warmth of his breath sent a tingle snaking down her back. Her craving for him was spiraling out of her control. She needed to put some distance between them. The impulses became stronger with each passing minute. If he didn’t leave soon she would be pleading with him and the thought embarrassed her.

“Perhaps you’d like some wine? Sloan won’t have any use for it in Newgate. He has a stash of bottles in the cabinet out there.” She held the lamp out to him and gently nudged him toward the door.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” “Yes, actually.”

He looked completely confused and quite hurt. Could she blame him? Here she was stroking him at the same time she was coaxing him to leave.

After shutting the door on him, she worked the latch into a locked position. Tess felt her way through the dark and with some effort turned the chair to face the wall. Fearing that these sexual cravings would shock even a man as worldly as her husband, she settled onto the satin cushion determined to please herself. With her feet placed on the chair’s edge, she shoved her skirts above her hips and spread her knees wide. Closing her eyes, she slid her hand down to her quim.

She registered the sound of cracking wood, the flickering of the lamplight on the ceiling, but she continued to slide her fingers over her exposed wet quim, desperate to assuage the hunger.

“Starting without me, I see.” Feeling his heated gaze boring into her, she tilted her head back to find him towering over her. She lifted her bottom to give him a better view and slipped a second finger into herself. With muscles bulging, he lifted the chair off the ground and turned it to face forward. She could not miss his massive erection. With a moan, she stuck another finger deep inside herself. He wrapped his hands around her ankles and dropped them one at a time over the arms of the chair, spreading her so far apart that her muscles hummed in her thighs.

“My turn.”

She removed her fingers only to have them replaced by his. First two then three of his big, callused fingers plunged inside her. Mesmerized by his fingers thrusting in and out of her, she obeyed readily when he told her to remove her dress. She slipped it off her shoulders and began working loose the ties of her stays. Every time she would shift to get a better reach behind her, it would cause his fingers to delve deeper. Finally, she yanked off her stays, and her breasts popped free. Her nipples stood hard, eager to be touched. She cupped her hands under her breasts and lifted them for his delectation.

He reached out and rubbed a nipple between his fingers. She moaned in delight. With fingers still thrusting hard into her, he leaned over her and sucked her nipple between his teeth. He lavished the same attention on her other breast. When he lifted his head, her nipples, glossed with his kisses, puckered in the cool air.

He took her hand and tugged her out of the chair. “Get all your damn clothes off,” he demanded and started shedding his own. But she was faster. He had only managed to remove his coat and waistcoat, while she was pushing the last of her petticoats from her hips. He stopped with his hands on his buttons, his lids heavy with desire as he watched her climb naked atop the bed.

The bedstead was fashioned from beautiful blonde wood. The wood was as smooth as glass and carved into a very suggestive shape. At least suggestive to her aphrodisiac-soaked brain. On impulse, her hands curled around the bedpost. Watching him all the while, she suggestively slid her hands up and down the smooth pole. Her actions elicited a groan from deep in his throat. Wishing to provoke him further, she got to her feet and pressed her quim against the cool wood. With a breathy sigh, she shimmied down the length of the post until her bottom rested on her heels.