Leslie Lafoy (34 page)

“Demands,” Aiden added quietly, “of a non … romantic nature.”

Sera considered them, realizing the full ramifications of having male friends. They didn’t pretend ignorance or that physical attraction didn’t exist. They minced only what words they had to in order to preserve the essence of her female sensibility. And all they asked of her in return was that she trust them and approach matters in the same way.

“Seraphina,” Aiden pressed, “did he at least promise you fidelity?”

She nodded and then bravely admitted to her single fear. “Not that I expect it to last overly long.”

“I think he might surprise us,” Barrett offered, looking decidedly pleased.

“As his friends and yours,” Aiden said, “we’ll do all that’s in our power to see that he doesn’t throw away the best thing that will ever happen to him.”

Barrett nodded in silent affirmation.

“Thank you both,” she whispered, deeply touched and knowing that, male or female, she’d never in her life had such good-hearted and devoted allies.

Barrett glanced toward the main entry and a mischievous grin stole over his face. “What do you suppose he’d do if I didn’t get you home until the wee hours of the morning?”

“Or, better yet, noon tomorrow,” Aiden posed, joining the game.

“Carden should be the least of your concerns,” she counseled, putting a quick end to their sport. “I’m the one who will do injury if I’m not spirited away from here in the next few minutes.”

“Our coach awaits us,” Barrett said, laughing softly and offering his arm. “Shall we go make some excuse to our hostess?”

“Don’t plead a headache, Sera,” Aiden suggested. “No one is going to believe it. You look entirely too…” He smiled at her and winked. “Glowing.”

She laughed even as the blush swept over her cheeks and Barrett led her off to find Lady Hatcher.

*   *   *

It was an impulsive decision and not without potential consequences, but Carden leaned forward and rapped the end of his walking stick against the wall of the carriage anyway. As it rolled to a stop alongside the queue of other waiting vehicles, he opened the door and vaulted onto the roadway.

Sera saw him and the brilliance of her smile evaporated what few qualms he’d had. Barrett on the other hand … His step faltered and, judging by the quick frown and the speed at which he turned Sera away and spoke to her … No, Barrett wasn’t pleased with the change in plans; he was focusing on the possible repercussions.

With Seraphina’s back to him, he couldn’t see her face as she looked up at his friend, couldn’t gauge what she was thinking, what she might be saying. But when Barrett scowled, cocked a brow, and then sighed, Carden knew that she’d won the contest. He’d never had a doubt.

Glaring the entire way, Barrett brought Sera to him.

“What a timely and convenient coincidence it is for us to meet like this,” Carden said, offering Sera his hand. “Since Sera and I are going to the same place, it would be ridiculous to have two carriages make the trip. I’ll see her home, Barrett.”

Barrett didn’t say anything and Sera filled the taut silence, saying graciously, “Thank you for the lovely evening, Barrett. I do hope you’ll go back and enjoy what remains of the party.”

Summoning some grace of his own, Barrett managed to sound almost genial when he replied, “It was my pleasure, Seraphina. And yes, I will.”

Handing Sera into the dimly lit carriage, Carden knew that Barrett was biting his tongue and waiting. He closed the door and stepped off to the side, half expecting his friend to swing a fist at him.

Instead, Barrett leaned close and in a low growl announced, “You and I are going to talk tomorrow.”

Knowing precisely what the concerns were, Carden nodded and quietly replied, “How is early in the afternoon for you? In your guest room as I’m putting away my things?”

It took several long seconds, but Barrett finally eased back, having apparently recognized the proposal as a serious one. “That’s a capital idea,” he said, still openly assessing him. “The best you’ve had in quite some time. Congratulations. And thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you or me,” he pointed out, reaching for the door handle. “And if I could think of any other way, I wouldn’t be doing it at all. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

With that he opened the door, climbed inside, and promptly closed the world away. As much as he wanted to drop down on the seat beside Sera and take her into his arms, he listened to the voice of reason and chose the opposite seat. There were issues they needed to discuss, hard realities that had to be faced and accepted, and he wanted them disposed of before they reached Haven House. None of it was coming with them into his bedroom.

As the carriage began to roll, she settled back into the cushions and slowly moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “I thought you were going to wait for me at the front door.”

His loins tightening, he gave her what was becoming a many-layered truth. “I decided that I couldn’t wait that long to see you again.”

“Barrett says we’re courting scandal in being seen leaving together, that a lady never leaves a social affair with a gentleman other than her escort without inviting tawdry speculation.”

“He’s absolutely right,” he admitted. “Does it bother you?”

Sera considered him, knowing that her initial instincts were correct; he didn’t intend for the ride home together to be another breathless, mindless seductive interlude. This time was for taking care of the more businesslike aspects of their relationship. And since it had to be done sooner or later … Carden was right; sooner was probably better.

“As I pointed out to to Barrett on the walkway … Whatever scandal arises from my being seen leaving in your carriage as opposed to his will be completely forgotten in the scandal that erupts when they learn that my husband is still alive. That scandal will be completely unforgettable.”

“Yes, it will, and there’s nothing we can do short of murder to avert it. But, for the sake of the girls, we’ll do everything we can to temper it. To that end, I considered having you all move to Honoria’s house, but decided that I didn’t much care for the notion of Honoria as a constant chaperone.”

“Thank you.”

“So the next-best solution,” he went on crisply, “is for you and the girls to stay in the house with the staff and I’ll go live with Barrett until I can find another townhouse of my own.”

Sera arched a brow. “And allow the gossip mongers to drive you from your own home? That hardly seems fair or right.”

He seemed to mull over the notion and then countered, “Or until we can buy or build you your own house.”

Her own house. It was a notion she’d never contemplated. Largely, she knew, because it had never been even the remotest of possibilities. “That’s what men do for their mistresses,” she mused aloud.

“Mistresses are dependent on their lovers for financial support,” he clarified, his voice pensive. “You’re a woman of independent mind and means, Sera. If you want a dozen residences, you can afford them. You don’t need me for anything.”

“Yes I do, Carden.”

“For what?” he quietly taunted. “For what do you need me? Name one thing.”

She needed to see his smile, to hear the rich timbre of his voice and the heady joy of his laughter. She needed to see him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and holding a glass of brandy in his hand, to know that no matter what happened he would keep everyone safe. She needed the way she felt when he made indecent proposals, when he touched her, when he looked deep into her eyes and dared her to be wanton. She needed, with all of her heart, to love him and hope that he would come to love her in return.

And she knew that that most fragile hope would be crushed and all of it would be lost if she answered him honestly. It was the one risk she wasn’t willing to take. But he did deserve an answer. If for no other reason than to spite him for thinking she’d fail in her search to find one for him.

His heart tripped. The light in her eyes … the sweet, deliciously predatory shadow of her smile … He watched her slide forward on her seat, his blood surging hot and wild. Her hands went to his knees and he instantly, fully hardened.

“Do you want me to tell the driver to take the long way home?” he asked, his heart pounding furiously as she moved into the space between his legs.

Her hands slid slowly up his thighs. “The advantage in that being?”

Setting aside his walking stick, he took her wrists in hand and gently stopped the progress of her magnificent torture. “I’ll have time to get you out of your hoops.”

She leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to the hollow beneath his ear. “And the advantage of taking the shorter way?” she whispered.

That he could last that long. Why the hell had he given her a choice? “We’ll have a little more time than we had in Lady Hatcher’s greenhouse. But not much.”

She grazed his cheek with a kiss as she drew away, easing her wrists from his grasp as she settled on the edge of her seat. Her breasts slowly rising and falling, she smiled at him knowingly. “You’re a libertine, Carden Reeves.”

“I know. And you’re a thoroughly wanton angel. The short way or the long?”

“The short,” she declared, her smile delightfully wicked as she gathered up her hems. She paused and arched a brow. “Unless, of course, it will make the feather bed and the satin sheets less enjoyable when we get there.”

“It won’t,” he assured her, unbuttoning with one hand as he reached into his coat pocket with the other. “There are distinct advantages to quick preludes.”

“What kind of advantages?”

“With the sharper edges of hunger sated, you have the patience to go slowly enough to appreciate and savor every pleasurable sensation.”

Slowly enough to savor. She smiled as Carden settled his back against the wall of the carriage and stretched his legs along the seat as best he could. He was covering himself with the protective sheath when she reached up and snuffed out the carriage light.

“Do rumples and wrinkles matter any more tonight?” she asked into the darkness as she eased across the space that separated them.

“No.” His hands gently grasped her wrists, drawing her closer, holding her steady as the carriage gently rocked on its springs and she slid her leg across him.

“Good,” she whispered as his hands slipped beneath her skirts and skimmed upward to her hips. When he shifted and tried to draw her down, she switched her balance to the foot she’d left on the floor and resisted his effort.

“Because,” she added, smiling at his scowl, “I think I’d very much like to rumple you. And savor every moment of it.”

“Sera…”

A hint of willingness to play to the game. A hint of wariness, too. “I can see distinct advantages in being the one who’s riding,” she murmured, ever so slowly lowering herself onto him.

The fullness and heat were heady; the deliberate friction lusciously exquisite. And the unpredictable movement of the carriage made it all that much more breathtakingly provocative. Carden’s hands tightened on her hips and she heard him drag a ragged breath into his lungs as he arched up, trying to draw them fully together. She held back, determined to slow her spiraling ascent this time, wanting to make the pleasure last for as long as she could.

If ever there was a woman who could drive a man mad with pure wanting … She was so right, so perfect in every way that mattered. Halfway simply wasn’t possible with her. And neither was any sort of detachment or patience. Sera was an all-or-nothing woman. And he wanted all of her.
Now.
His body desperately aching and straining, his mind frantically raced through the ways in which he could seize control of the moment from her. But none of them were subtle or the least bit gentle and he couldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t even risk it. Not now. Not ever.

“Oh, God. Sera.”

She heard the warning of frustration.

“Please don’t deny me, Sera.”

Undone, she granted them both mercy, surrendering her mind, body, and soul to the surging sweep of ecstasy, to the joy of loving Carden Reeves.

*   *   *

Carden leaned his head back against the wall of the coach, closed his eyes, and sighed in contentment. Gerald Tread-well had walked away from this woman? The man didn’t have a brain in his head or blood in his veins. Truly a case of one man’s folly being another man’s gem. Or something like that. It was hard to think beyond the amazement of how quickly and deeply Sera could satisfy him. Damn hard to think at all, actually. She’d melted his bones and turned his muscles to jelly. He’d never felt more drained or alive in his life.

She shifted and he tightened his hold on her hips. “Where are you going, angel?”

“The carriage has stopped,” she answered, clearly concerned.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “So?”

“If your driver climbs down to open the door…”

He was about to assure her that his driver knew better than to open the door, but bit the words back, realizing that any mention of the understanding they had … No, he didn’t want the specter of other women sharing the carriage with them. He didn’t want Sera thinking about his past in specific terms, never wanted her to wonder how she compared to the others. Not that making a comparison was even remotely possible.

“All right,” he said, releasing his hold and helping her back to her feet. “We’ll observe just a bit of caution for a change.”

She settled on the opposite seat and watched him remove the sheath and button his trousers, thinking that the recklessness of their evening was largely an illusion. Yes, they’d risked scandal in being caught, but Carden had seen to it that the risks were minimal. And each time they’d come together, he’d put the sheath between them, protecting them both from a multitude of complications. Carden Reeves took chances, but not without careful calculation. She found that vastly reassuring.

There was no denying, however, that Carden’s conscientious use of the sheath saddened her, too. That the regret sprang from a well utterly foreign to her awareness made the feeling all the more troubling. She’d always considered the sheepskin barrier a godsend, had always insisted that Gerald wear one. But with Carden there wasn’t the usual comfort of knowing that it stood between her and irrevocable consequences. She didn’t want to be protected; she wanted children.