Fanning the Flame (21 page)

They descended the trail without a problem and galloped along the edge of the surf. Jillian rode better than she had said, not an expert by any means, but certainly capable of staying in the saddle. And she was obviously enjoying herself, laughing when she pulled her horse to a halt, her little black top hat tilting over at a slightly crooked angle.

"Oh, Adam, this is such fun. Thank you so much for inviting me."

He simply nodded. She seemed carefree in a way he had never seen her, smiling at him with so much warmth it made his chest feel tight. It occurred to him he hadn't seen her smile that way since he had come upon her at the duck pond. He wondered if she had been more carefree before her father died, before she had been faced with trying to survive on her own.

"Are you hungry yet?" she shouted above the thunder of the surf.

"Starving!" he shouted back. He was hungry, all right, but not for food. Jillian was radiant with life and energy, happy as he had never seen her. He wanted to drag her off the horse and tumble her down into the sand. He wanted to shove up her skirts, open his breeches, and take her with the surf running over them and sea gulls screeching above their heads.

"I know a place," he said as she rode up beside him. "My brother Carter and I used to go there when we were boys." It was their secret, special place and he had never brought a woman there before—had never wanted to before.

He tethered the horses at the far end of the cove and took Jillian's hand. Climbing a narrow trail that led up into the rocks, he steered her out of the breeze.

Inside the cave, she glanced around in wonder. "How can it be so light in here?"

He pointed toward a chimney-like opening with a view of the crystal blue sky. "There's a hole in the ceiling. The water carved this place over hundreds of years, but the tide only gets high enough to reach it during a very bad storm."

"It smells like salt and sunshine. The perfect place for a picnic. Oh, I can't remember when I've enjoyed myself so much."

Adam smiled. Now that he thought of it, neither could he. Jillian kicked off her shoes and sat down on the blanket he spread beneath the rock chimney. Following her lead, he tugged off his boots and stockings. God, he couldn't remember the last time that he had gone barefoot, but it felt amazingly good to sift his toes through the fine white sand in the bottom of the cave.

Jillian helped him set out the items in the lunch basket: mutton pasties and Cheshire cheese; cold chicken and warm, freshly baked bread; candied fruit and cherry tarts for dessert. Adam leaned over and picked up a pasty, only mildly hungry, but Jillian began tearing into the food with such gusto he found himself laughing out loud.

"When you said you were hungry, you really meant it."

She took a bite of cold chicken and made a purring sound in her throat. "Everything tastes delicious. Do you think it's because we're eating at the beach?"

He smiled. He'd been doing that all day. He had brought her here to seduce her. Now he discovered it was he who was being seduced, in a completely different manner.

"I imagine that could be part of it." Damn, he wanted to kiss her, to lick the crumbs from the corners of her mouth, to taste the sweet, dark cavern inside.

His body tightened. He took a last bite of pasty and tried to ignore the clench of desire in his belly.

Jillian sighed and leaned back against the wall of the cave. "This is wonderful. I can't remember when I've felt so content."

The words zinged into him with the force of an arrow. She was smiling softly, slightly windblown and utterly lovely. For months she had been gossiped about and shunned. She'd been accused of murder, forced to hide in the house of a stranger, and ultimately thrown into prison. She'd lost her innocence to a man who had no intention of marriage, and even now she faced a future that might see her hanged.

Adam closed his eyes, his conscience eating away at him, his plans for seduction eroding like sand beneath the waves rushing up on the beach. Jillian deserved a carefree afternoon—without any strings attached. She deserved it, and suddenly he wanted more than anything in the world to see that she got it.

"Could I please have a little more wine?" She came away from the wall on her hands and knees, holding out her empty pewter goblet. She looked into his face. "Your smile is gone. We said we wouldn't think about anything bad today."

He forced his mouth to curve, lifted the flagon, and refilled her cup. "So we did."

They drank a little more wine, but the conversation that had come so easily in the beginning seemed to grow stilted and strained. They folded the blanket in silence as they prepared to leave the cave. Accidentally, their shoulders brushed and both of them turned. Jillian didn't move away, just stood there looking at him with those incredible blue eyes, and lust curled like smoke through his veins.

It ran hot in his blood, sank its claws into his loins. He had to get out of there before he did what his body demanded and dragged her down on the floor of the cave.

"You want to kiss me," she said softly. "Why don't you?"

He wasn't an easy man to read. As an officer in command of hundreds of men, he prided himself on keeping his emotions well-hidden. "Because if I kiss you, I won't want to stop."

Jillian's gaze remained on his face. "If you kissed me, I wouldn't want you to stop."

His blood pumped, throbbed in his groin. He was already hard, pressing uncomfortably against the front of his breeches. For several long seconds, his eyes remained locked with hers.

He let out a shuddering breath. "Ah, God . . ." Cupping the nape of her neck, he slid his fingers into her hair, scattering the pins, dislodging the weighty mass and knocking off her silly little top hat. Soft curls tumbled around her shoulders as his mouth crushed down over hers.

The kiss was long and deep, a taking, demanding kiss he couldn't seem to turn into anything gentle. He absorbed the softness of her lips, trailed kisses over her jaw and along her throat, then kissed her deeply again.

He could feel her arms around his neck, feel her slender body arching against him. Jillian kissed him back with the same hot need that pulsed through his blood, and he heard himself groan.

"Jillian . . ." He kissed her as he stepped forward, urging her backward up against the wall, easing his knee between her legs. He lifted her a little, forcing her to ride his thigh, and a soft little whimper escaped from her lips.

"I want you," he said, his hands moving down to cup her bottom. It was round and firm and nicely filled his palms. He lifted her, pressed her softness into his painfully hard erection. "I want you so damned much."

He kissed her again, absorbing the taste of her, feeling her tremble, feeling the faint touch of her fingers at the back of his neck, sliding into his hair. God, she was so damned responsive. Her nipples formed tight little buds beneath the bodice of her gown, her tongue felt slick against his, and her legs were shaking as she tried to press herself even closer against him. Everywhere he touched her seemed to come alive.

Reaching down, he slid up the skirt of her riding habit and her chemise lifted with it. He found her softness, parted the warm, plump flesh, and began to stroke her. Jillian moaned and squirmed against his hand. She was wet and hot, so incredibly tempting it was nearly impossible to maintain control.

He fumbled with the buttons at the front of his breeches, cursed when one of them refused to come undone, and finally freed himself. Lifting her a little, he kissed her hard and drove himself deeply inside.

For several long seconds he simply stood there, her body sheathing him so hotly he didn't want to move, but the urge to have her was nearly unbearable, and his muscles flexed, driving him deeper still.

"Adam," she whispered as he wrapped her legs around his waist, her body shifting restlessly against him. "I need . . ."

"It's all right, love, I've got what you need." Holding her hips immobile, he eased himself out, then thrust deeply into her again. Slow, steady strokes made the sweat break out on his forehead. Hard, demanding strokes had his jaw clenched so tightly pain shot into his temple. Still, he drove on, thrusting hard, harder, until he felt her tremble, felt her body tighten around him, and knew she had reached release. A sob tore from her throat and she clung to his shoulders while the rush of a pounding climax poured through him.

At the last possible moment, he withdrew, more careful this time than he had been before, spilling his seed in the sand on the floor of the cave.

He held her as they spiraled down, listening to the fast-beating rhythm of their hearts. With surprising reluctance, he released her, easing her down his body till her feet touched the sandy floor. Still, she clung to him, her arms wound tightly around his neck. Just as before, she seemed unaware of what she was doing, how fiercely she hung on, and he started to smile again.

"Easy, love. You're back from wherever you traveled, safely returned to English soil."

She blinked up at him and warm color flooded her cheeks. "Sorry. "

He chuckled, and bent down to retrieve her top hat.

Jillian gazed down at the sandy floor. "Oh, dear, I've lost my pins. I'll look a fright when we get back."

"We've been riding. They'll think it was the wind."

She didn't look convinced. "There is . . . there is something I need to ask."

Wariness washed through him. Women always wanted something in return for their favors. "What is it?"

"The night I came into your room . . . I wanted to know what it was like to make love. I never really thought we would do it again." She glanced up at him. "What if I get with child?"

His wariness eased. Leaning over, he very gently kissed her. "Would that really be so bad?" He couldn't believe he had said that. He had never thought much about children. He knew almost nothing about them, and after his experience with Caroline, marriage and family held no appeal.

"I love children," she said. "But I wouldn't want a child if . . ." She broke off without completing the thought. She had no way to care for a child. Of course she would worry.

"It's all right. There are ways to keep it from happening. I was careful this time, but even if something like that should occur, I would take care of you and the child."

Some unreadable emotion passed over Jillian's face. She turned away from him, walked over to the entrance of the cave. "I should like to go back now," she said softly.

He nodded, though already he wanted to make love to her again. Watching her comb her fingers through her hair, a dozen erotic images popped into his head. Jillian astride him. Jillian on her hands and knees. Christ, he wanted to take her in a hundred different ways, a thousand.

It wasn't going to happen. He should have returned to London long before this. He had hired the very best people to prove Jillian's innocence, but it wasn't enough. There might be something he could do if he were there.

He would leave Jillian here as he had planned. Reggie and Maude could stay with her. She would be safe from Telford's threats and the vicious London gossip as long as she stayed at Blackwood Manor.

Chapter Fifteen

Jillian tried not to think of the murder. But the extension she had been granted by the courts would end in two short weeks. God alone knew what would happen if she failed to prove her innocence and they put her on trial. With so much evidence against her, she was sure to go to prison or perhaps even hang.

Time was running out. She couldn't bear sitting there doing nothing a moment more—she simply could not. Determined to speak to Adam, she encountered him in the hallway, apparently feeling the same frustration.

"I've been looking for you," he said. "I wanted to tell you I'm leaving."

"You're going back to London?"

"That's right. There are people I need to see, avenues I need to explore. I'll be leaving for London in the morning."

Jillian hoisted her chin. "I'm glad to hear it, my lord—as that is exactly when I plan to leave."

His jaw hardened. "Not chance. I brought you here so that you would be safe. Dammit, if you go back to the city, Telford will discover your return and start clamoring to have you thrown back into prison."

"I have to go back. I was certain something would turn up by now, but it hasn't. It's my life that is at stake. If you won't take me, I shall wait until you leave and go back on my own."

Adam's eyes darkened. He reached out and gripped her arms. "In case it has slipped your mind, the magistrates have placed you in my custody. That means you do as I tell you. If I decide you will stay, then that is what you will do. I swear I'll lock you in your room, if that is what it takes."

She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. "Adam, please. I'll go mad if I have to stay here. I have to do something. I have to try to help myself. Can't you understand that?"

For long moments, he stared into her face, then his hard grip softened. With a sigh, he stepped away. "How is it I commanded the obedience of hundreds of men, but can't seem to manage one stubborn slip of a woman?"

Jillian wisely made no comment.

Tomorrow they would return to London.