Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) (35 page)

“Enough of that, hellion. Not used to the stuff. It’ll make your head swim.”

“It already has. I find the feeling rather pleasant.” Sighing, Silver lay back and slid open a button at her bodice. “I didn’t realize it was so warm, however.” She frowned at the sky. “And why are the stars dancing about like that?”

“Not dancing about.” Luc squinted upward. “Least, I don’t think they are.” He looked at Silver and shook his head. “Too much brandy, my girl. That’s what it is.”

Silver shrugged. “They look rather nice moving in those funny little circles.” She leaned toward Luc. Her hand rose to his cheek. “So do you, highwayman,” she said softly.

She felt the muscles clench at his jaw.

“Shouldn’t be here, Sunbeam. Tinker would have my hide.”

“Tinker told me you were up here. So did Bram. In fact, they both thought me heartless for not coming up sooner.”

“Better heartless that heartbroken,” Luc said harshly. “I’m no good for you. Not even good for myself.” He stared out over the dark hills. “I went after the man who sent me to Algiers tonight, did you know that? Followed him over the marshes to the old mill near Kingsdon Cross. I nearly had him, too, but I was a second too slow and he slipped away. And do you know
why
I was too slow?” Luc didn’t wait for her answer, fists clenched against his knees. “I was too slow because I smelled the scent of honeysuckle and it made me think of you, damn it. It made me remember, just as you said it would. And I can’t afford that, Silver. I can’t be anything but strong and cold and cruel right now. Not without breaking a vow I made to myself five years ago.”

He came up on one knee, his face hard. “That’s why I’m leaving now. Because of
me
, not because of you. I want you to understand that.”

“But — the brandy? How will you make your way back?”

Luc laughed grimly. “Oh, I’m not drunk. That was just a lie to send you running. Silly, of course. I should have known that nothing would frighten you away.”

“How curious,” Silver said softly, “because I’m not drunk either.” Her hand moved lower, freeing the second button at her bodice. “Not in the slightest…”

Luc’s eyes locked on her hand, on the lacy white fabric that swayed in the wind, on the faint V of skin that shimmered beneath. “Don’t, Sunbeam.”

A third button slid free.

Luc’s breath was a strangled groan in his throat. “Damn it, Silver,
don’t.
I’m not made of stone, after all.”

“I pray that you are not. From what I’ve felt of you, you’re all fire and velvet,” she said huskily.

Heat slammed through Luc at her words. He had to leave. He had to be hard. He had to forget her — all for her own good.

But he couldn’t move. Paralyzed, he watched her fingers slide to a fourth button. “Is it possible,” Luc said hoarsely, “that you are trying to seduce me, Susannah St. Clair?”

“I devoutly hope so.” Silver’s eyes were tremulous in the soft moonlight. “Am I … succeeding, highwayman?”

Too well,
Luc thought desperately, as his manhood strained hotly in a fresh wave of heat.
Far
too well.

“Not in the slightest,” he growled, praying she wouldn’t hear the hoarseness that proved the lie of his words. “Blackwood’s far too hardened a sinner to fall for such simple tricks.”

Luc saw a tremor run through her and it left him bleeding inside. But he could not afford to be kind. She would thank him for it later, when she had a rich, titled husband and a brood of auburn-haired children playing at her feet.

The thought left Luc cold.

“But maybe it’s not Blackwood I’m seducing,” Silver whispered. “Maybe it’s you, the quiet man who hides his pain deep. The man whose honor makes him feign dishonor.” Her voice broke. “It’s
you
I want, Luc. Not an image. Not a dream. Just you. Why can’t you understand that?”

Behind him Luc heard the wind rush over the lavender fields and skitter through the rose borders. The sound was echoed in Silver’s low sigh.

And he knew he was betrayed. Woman, wind, and the beauty of the night conspired against him the moment Silver sat up.

White lace fluttered free, baring the ivory curve of her breast to his fevered gaze.

He fought it, he fought her, but he was losing to all that softness and silken honesty.

He decided there was only one way to stop her.

He freed his shirt, his eyes hard on her face. Frightening her was his only hope. “It will hurt you, Silver. Perhaps a great deal. It always hurts the first time.”

“Oh, this is hardly my first,” she said huskily. “I’ve had dozens — yes, scores of men.”

His lip twitched slightly. “Scores, have you?”

“At least. I’m thoroughly, shall we say, broken in. No need to fear hurting
me.”

“I see.” Luc’s eyes were unreadable as he slid his hand across the entrancing curves revealed at her lacy bodice. “And they touched you here? Like this?”

Silver gasped as he found the crest of her, already taut and hungry for him. “Of course.”

“And … you liked it? When they touched you like this?”

“It was pleasant enough, I suppose.”

His fingers splayed open and his lips closed over her, pulling wetly.

“Luc!”

“Yes?” He studied her from hooded eyes. “That was also pleasant, I take it?”

Silver swallowed audibly. “Yes. Pleasant, rather…”

Luc toyed with the hungry curves, brushing her with his tongue until she squirmed restlessly beneath him. “And all those scores of men, they did
this
to you as well?”

“I — of course.” Silver gasped. “All the time.”

“I see,” Luc said darkly. In one lazy movement he caught the full froth of her skirts and tugged them upward.

“What are you doing?”

“What every man does when he pleasures a woman. Surely, being a woman of such
vast
experience, you must realize that.”

Silver bit her lip. “Well — that is, of course I knew. It’s merely that you surprised me. It was your hands. They are very — big, you know.”

“‘Tis not only my hands that are big, Sunbeam,” Luc said darkly. “But you know all about that, being familiar with those ‘uncontrollable manly passions,’ as you are.”

He didn’t mean to spare her, not for a second. He couldn’t or he’d fail. He trailed his hands over the soft line of her thighs, seeking the heat at her delta.

She bit back a cry when he found her.

But he ignored her breathy moans, he ignored her restless movements, slowly parting the sleek skin that welcomed his intimate caress.

“Look at me,” Luc rasped. “I’m a turncoat, Silver. I’m a traitor to my country, to my name, and to my own heart. Look at me and tell me how it feels to be loved by a traitor. Maybe
that
will make you change your mind.”

Silver didn’t answer. Dear Lord, she
couldn’t
answer, not with this fire inside her and desire streaking through her in great dark waves.

He was a traitor?

She caught a sharp breath.

“I — don’t believe it.”

Luc laughed grimly. “You will.” He shoved the lace from her other breast, coaxing it roughly with tongue and teeth.

Silver arched against him. Her rib throbbed, but she was too far lost in pleasure to care. She refused to believe he was a traitor!

At the same time she couldn’t tell him the truth. If he knew that he was indeed the first man to touch her so, he’d surely stop. That honor he said he lacked would keep him from her, and then she’d never know the beauty of his touch.

But Silver nearly blurted out the truth when Luc’s thumb eased through her silken curls.

“Frightened, my sweet? Good, for I mean to frighten you.”

Frightened? Not that. But she
was
feeling most peculiar. The heat. The brandy. The drumming in her blood.

And the man. Oh, yes, the man most of all.

He had her heart, caught well and truly now. And that secret, too, she must keep from him. He wouldn’t want her love nor any other tender feelings.

So Silver locked back the words, hid her heart. “Should I be frightened?”

“You should,” Luc said grimly. “It’s the highwayman you’ve caught tonight, here in your spell. Not the gentleman, not the cool cavalier, but the hardened scoundrel who owes allegiance to no one. Now are you afraid?”

“No.” Silver ran her hand beneath Luc’s shirt and found the faint ridge of the scars at his back. “Not of you. Not of these. They are warrior’s marks, tokens of honor. Why should they frighten me?”

Luc’s eyes closed. No, nothing would frighten her. He should have known.

“Is the pain to come soon?”

Only for me,
Luc thought, knowing he could not carry this charade through to its end.

So close. One swift thrust and she would be his, tight and wet and clinging. She’d welcome him, he knew. He’d felt her pleasure once and knew she would grip him sweetly when he came to her.

He bit back a curse, feeling sweat bead his brow.

Not her. He couldn’t do it, not to this woman.

But he couldn’t pull away, not before he’d felt her sweet fire once more. He eased inside her, feeling her tremble against his fingers as he stroked her carefully.

“Oh, Luc, how can I—”

She rose against him then, her eyes dim, her face flushed, her whole body given to the pleasure he’d brought pounding through her.

So beautiful, Luc thought. He could hold her this way forever, with her little husky cries ringing in his ears. In her honesty and giving he felt free, the years swept clean, and for a moment it was almost as if the torments of Algiers had never happened.

At the sight of her, at the hot, tight tug of her, he felt his control shatter. Never before had he known such need — and such bitter regret.

For Algiers did exist. He had killed men and ignored his conscience. He had had to for survival. And then had come the women. Too young, they’d been. Far too small. When the Dey had seen Luc’s size, he’d cackled and ordered his
ferenghi
prisoner to a coupling that would punish the women for their disobedience.

And after the whippings Luc had finally complied.

To survive he had done what the Dey had ordered. Now he was a traitor to his country and himself. Nothing could change that.

“Not Luc,” he said grimly. “‘Tis the highwayman you face tonight, and Blackwood’s not a man to play for small stakes. I’ve had to kill men, Silver. I’ve had to take women, even if it hurt them. Too much — too much you don’t even want to know.” Abruptly he pushed to his feet.

“Luc? Where are you going?”

“Home. Where I should have stayed. Anywhere that’s far away from you.”

Silver blinked. “You can’t.”

“Don’t try to stop me. My mind’s made up.”

And then a click came behind him. Luc turned and saw a pistol glinting in the moonlight. “Damn it, what do you mean to do with
that?”

“I mean to see the tables turned, felon.” Silver’s eyes slid half closed. “We’ll start with your boots. Take them off,” she ordered curtly.

A vein pulsed at Luc’s temple. “Damned if I will.”

“Suit yourself.” Silver lowered the gun between Luc’s feet. “My aim might not be entirely reliable just now, I warn you. You are a most potent and distracting lover.”

Luc tried to ignore the moonlight playing over her pale curves and how hot and tight she’d felt. “Let it be, Silver. If I stay, if I do the things I want to do, it will only bring you pain.”

The pistol rose higher. “Don’t make me count, highwayman. If I have to count, my aim may grow even worse.”

Luc twisted. In a blur of black he found his rapier, wrenched it high, then brought the point to hover over her throat. “Bloody little fool! Do you think I’d set foot abroad without a weapon of my own?”

Silver lay before him, lips parted, eyes alive with emerald fire. At her breast white lace fluttered in the soft wind, teasing her naked skin. “Perhaps it is that very …
blade
of yours I seek, highwayman.”

Desire rode Luc at her words. She was fearless. She was incorrigible. She was—

Beautiful. Heartrendingly innocent. A woman to test the mettle of a saint.

And Luc was
certainly
no saint.

He fell to one knee beside her, his foil still raised a hair’s breadth from her neck. His mouth hardened as he tugged her pistol from her fingers and flung it to the grass. “And now, my lady, what new scheme will you attempt? You have no weapons left to defeat me.”

“I have but one weapon left, my lord highwayman.” Silver rose slowly, her eyes fixed on Luc’s face. Her hands moved to the last button at her bodice. “Shall I show it to you now?”

“Don’t,
Silver.” Luc’s voice was rough with need. “There are things you don’t know — vast dangers that you risk…”

But still she rose.

Luc’s foil retreated before her steady advance. Only inches away from him she stopped, her fingers on the last button.

And then that, too, was freed.

Her hand slid to his bared chest. Her fingers parted, sliding lower. Luc groaned to feel her breasts thrusting against him.

“I can feel your heart. It races as wildly as mine does, highwayman. Does the rest of you feel so hot and hard?”

Luc groaned, caught broadside in a swell of pleasure at her touch. His fingers clenched. Ethics, scruples, and honor fled.

It was night. She was heaven. And he was far too much a man.

His head fell. He found the curve of her and drank deeply. “You can’t know what you’re doing,” he grated, burying his hands in her hair. It would end badly, but suddenly Luc didn’t care. He had no strength for anything but the joy she was teaching him.

“But I do know.” Her eyes shimmering, Silver caught his head and planted little kisses along his collarbone.

And as Luc looked into her shimmering eyes, he realized exactly what he’d been missing all these years.

Heart.

Somewhere in the dark, hot hours in Algiers he’d lost that. And without a heart colors were flat and time was dull, with no purpose.

He drank in the sight of Silver and knew that she was his only real chance at surviving, for her heart was real and true enough for two. It flashed like morning’s first light, exquisite with all the textures of dreams and hopes that Luc had forgotten how to feel.

Heart.

Such a simple thing. Such a useless thing, in the narrow, businesslike eyes of money makers and empire builders.

But Luc Delamere knew they were all wrong.

Heart was everything. It was end and beginning. Without it life had no taste, no scent, and no purpose.

He thought of his first sight of her, terrified yet ferocious as she faced him upon the heath. He thought of the light in her eyes and the throaty way she laughed.

And he knew that if this woman couldn’t help him find his heart, nobody could.

It was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. Just once he had to feel her beneath him. To taste the swift tug of her passion…

He pushed to his feet. With his foil he caught the ties at her skirt and sliced them neatly.

Lace and muslin whispered to a creamy pool against the dark grass.

Luc’s breath caught. “Sunbeam, you’ve got weapons you can’t imagine. Right now they stop my breath and tear out my very heart.” He watched her tongue skim her lips. “And I think you’ve been practicing all your life,” he growled.

He eyed her well-licked lips. Whatever he had been thinking vanished in a rush of raw sensation as she pulled his face down to hers.

Her lips parted wide. They sent new waves of torment to Luc’s groin. “Halt, woman. In a second you’ll be teaching
me.”

But it was too late. She already was.

She had turned the tables neatly, slanting her head and running her tongue across the curve of his lips.

Groaning, he caught her against him. Their tongues met and he felt his control shatter. He’d loved her from the first second he’d seen her, her eyes huge with fear and an equal determination to hide it.

He felt his rapier pulled free. The next moment its point pricked his chest.

“And now, rogue, I’ll have you at
my
bidding.” Blade steady, Silver reached to the buttons straining at his breeches. “Off with these.”

The touch of her fingers was agony. Luc bit back a curse. “You’re bold for such an innocent. Perhaps the highwayman needs to teach you a lesson in humility.”

Silver’s lips curved. “He is welcome to try.” Her fingers slid over the straining buttons.

“No more,” he growled. “You’re tempting fate.”

“Sometimes it is very … pleasant to tempt fate. Fate is so very big, after all. So very warm. I can almost feel it pulsing right here at my fingers.
Fate,
that is,” Silver purred.

At her challenge Luc’s manhood rose, straining hotly. “It’s not only fate you’ll taste tonight, hellion.”

Silver’s eyelids dropped, delicately veiling her eyes. “I sincerely hope so.” And then in one reckless movement she found him. Slowly she traced the hot length of him, staring in patent wonder. “You are … so large. In fact, I cannot possibly see how—”

Luc gave her no time for confusion to turn to fear. He caught the rapier and sent it flying. “You will not need
that
blade tonight. I have a far better one.” He pulled her beneath him, pinning her to the soft grass. “Too late for fear, my beauty. You’ve roused the highwayman this night, and the highwayman will not be gainsaid.” His head fell. He tongued the rose-red tips furled and aching for his touch.

Her back arched. “Oh, Luc. It is heaven. Sweetest heaven.”

“Am I to assume that you like this? Being kissed this way?”

She shuddered. “It is far too urgent to be comfortable.” Her eyes opened, dark with confusion. “Do people do this often?”

Luc smiled faintly. “As often as possible, Sunbeam. When one is in love, of course.”

A grave nod. “In love. I … see.”

He knew she didn’t. He knew she was wondering how many other times before he’d thought himself in love. And she was wondering just how many other women there had been.

“The answer is never, Sunbeam. Never have I felt like this nor even close.” His thumb moved roughly over the outline of one dusky nipple. “You seem surprised. I take it your many lovers never touched you so.”

Color flared over Silver’s cheeks. She swung her palm against his wrist and knocked his arm away.

“Anger? Ah, but you told me you were — let me get it right — well broken in.”