Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (26 page)

Not certain what he planned, he staggered to the sitting room. As a sailor, he believed in portents and signs, so he wouldn’t decide what to do. He would descend to the next floor and let circumstances decide for him.

He pulled open the door, and he had to blink and blink, not sure of what he was seeing. Sarah was standing there—like an apparition. He felt as if he’d conjured her just from pondering her so intently.

She was wearing a green negligee and robe he’d bought her. The fabric was soft and silky, and it hugged her shapely torso like a glove. He’d once observed the type of sleepwear she preferred—stuffy, virginal gowns that concealed every inch of skin—so she was exposing much more than was comfortable for her.

Nervously, she clutched at the lapels of the robe, but there wasn’t sufficient material to give her the protection she sought.

“Sarah?”he murmured, not positive she was real, if he was hallucinating.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me.”

“I shouldn’t have burdened you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad I finally learned the truth.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“Yes, it does. It changes everything.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Don’t send me away, Jean Pierre. Please don’t.”

Her use of his French name solidified a profound bond between them. She seemed to be offering her acceptance of who and what he was, seemed to be saying she’d discovered his worst faults and cared about him anyway.

He’d wanted a sign and here it was. He would never discount or ignore it.

At the same instant, he reached for her and she stepped to him and leapt into his arms. He swept her up, her legs circling his waist, and he was kissing her and kissing her.

Whirling them around, he kicked the door shut and carried her to his bedchamber. He marched straight to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress, tumbling down with her.

Like a madman, he swooped in. He couldn’t hold her tightly enough, couldn’t attach himself completely enough. For once, he was desperate to connect so thoroughly that he didn’t know where his body ended and hers began.

The robe was an impediment, and he yanked it off her shoulders. Then he drew down the straps on her negligee to reveal her beautiful breasts. He caressed the shapely mounds, plucking at the nipples, and quickly, she responded, her hips moving with his own.

He nibbled a trail down her neck, her chest, and sucked a taut nipple into his mouth. He bit and played with it until she was writhing with desire.

Gradually, he worked her negligee down and off so she was naked beneath him. He might have paused to feast on her glorious anatomy, but he wouldn’t let her realize how far they had traveled down the carnal road.

He tormented her breasts as his fingers drifted down her tummy and into her sheath. The strange touch rattled her, and she froze.

“It’s all right,”he whispered.

“You can do whatever you want to me,”she hastily said. “I don’t mind.”

He smiled. “That’s probably the very last thing you should say to a cad like me.”

“I was just surprised. I’ve never been…well…”

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, providing stark evidence of how awfully he was behaving. She was so innocent that she didn’t have the vocabulary to discuss salacious conduct. He had to recall that she was a maiden, had to slow down, had to praise and tempt and arouse. But he was quite sure he hadn’t the finesse to make it as wonderful as she deserved.

No matter what transpired in the future, he would never marry her. If she got too close, it would endanger her, so a sexual encounter was all he could offer. She would never have a real wedding night, with a loving, devoted husband.

He couldn’t give her a matrimonial bond, but he could give her passion so in the coming months and years, she would have fond memories of the event. Hopefully, she’d remember
him
fondly, too, and would recollect only the good parts and none of the bad.

“Have you any idea of what’s about to happen?”he asked.

“Just what my friend Caroline told me.”

“It’s very physical.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Would you like me to explain?”

“No. You do what you want. I’m happy to let you.”

“What brought about this change of heart?”

“I was alone in my room, and it dawned on me that I couldn’t bear to leave you.”

“Of course you can.”

“No, you’re wrong. If you took me to England and sailed away, I couldn’t survive it.” She laid a hand on his cheek. “I guess you’ve started to be important to me.”

“Me? The man you hate? The man you loathe?”

“I don’t hate you.”

Her expression was so open, so trusting and absurdly naïve. She wasn’t the sort of woman who would fabricate sentiment, wasn’t a doxy like Annalise who’d been taught at an early age to say what a man longed to hear. If Sarah professed affection, it was genuine.

In his entire life, no female had looked at him as she was, as if he was magnificent and amazing. She flustered him, had him eager to admit his own heightened sentiment.

There were words on the tip of his tongue that couldn’t be voiced aloud. He was anxious to declare himself, but if he uttered a single comment, she would believe him. She’d expect him to follow through, but he never would. She was too fine, and he was too corrupt, and they could never go forward in any sane way.

The physical realm was where he thrived, where he knew the rules, where he understood the consequences.

He fell to her breasts again, his fingers down below, stroking her until she tensed and cried out. He laughed, delighted with her, with her sexual ease, with her willingness to accept him and what he could give her.

He held her through the tumult, and as she tumbled down, he was preening, thrilled with what he’d done. She’d needed a man in her bed; she’d be better off for it.

“What was that?”she gasped when she could speak again.

“
That
was sexual pleasure.”

“Oh, my.”

“It was only the first part, though. Let me show you the rest.”

With any other lover, he could have paced himself, could have remained detached and indifferent. But with her, he couldn’t delay. He rose onto his knees and tugged off his shirt. As he undid the buttons on his trousers, she watched with an avid feminine interest.

He stretched out on top of her, and as his bare chest connected with hers, the air seemed to spark and sizzle. She drew him near to initiate a kiss of her own.

“Are we going to…?”

“Yes.”

“Caroline said it will hurt.”

“For a minute. Then it will always feel grand.”

She was so serious, so solemn. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,”he stated, but it was a lie. He never made promises because he never kept them.

“Promise we’ll be together forever.”

“We’ll be together. I promise.”

“And it will be just me—from now on. No more trollops. You have to cease your womanizing. Especially with Miss Dubois.”

“Absolutely. I’ve already sent her away.”

“We can still go to England, but you can’t leave me there.”

“I won’t,
chérie
.”

“Or if you want me to live with you in France, I will. Just ask me.”

“I want it all with you, Sarah.”

He didn’t have enough fingers to count all the falsehoods he’d just spewed.

He was never monogamous, and while he’d decided to split with Annalise, he’d replace her as soon as another doxy caught his fancy.

As to Sarah, he would take her to England, then sneak away—so she’d be safe from him, so she could rightly claim to authorities later on that she had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

She truly believed he could be a better man. She had such faith in him, and he would always cherish her for that. In the future, he would have Reggie and Raven check on her occasionally to ensure that she was thriving, that Hedley and Mildred weren’t imposing on her and had no ability to harm her.

But once he returned her to Bramble Bay, he would never see her again.

The fact that he wouldn’t, that they were nearing a final goodbye, was extremely disconcerting. A wave of anguish bubbled up, and he shoved it down. They were about to engage in the only enduring tie they would ever have, and he was tired of waiting for it to occur.

He began kissing her again, his hands roaming over her body until she was moaning and squirming beneath him. This time, she knew what was coming, and she embraced the onslaught. He continued until she was at the edge, until he could toss her over with ease.

He widened her thighs, his torso dropping between them. He pulled his trousers to his flanks, freeing his cock to center the tip in her sheath. At the odd positioning, she tensed, and he kissed her sweetly, tenderly.

“Don’t be afraid,”he told her.

“I’m not.”

“It will be over in a moment.”

“And it will be all right afterwards, won’t it?”

“Yes.”

But as he gazed down at her, he felt horrid. He had no honorable intentions toward her—he never had honorable intentions—as she would learn after it was too late to undo the damage.

“Now I need you to promise
me
something,”he said.

“What is it?”

“Promise me you’ll never be sorry we did this.”

“I never will be.”

“No matter what happens, you have to always be glad it was me.”

“I’ll always be glad, Jean Pierre. ‘Til my dying day.”

He flexed, wedging himself in, wedging in a bit more.

She tensed again, and he murmured, “Try to relax.”

“I’m trying. It just seems…strange.”

“It will be wonderful. Trust me.”

“I do trust you. I always will.”

Her remark was too dear, too foolish, and he yanked away and dipped to her breasts as he touched her between her legs. In a thrice, she cried out as he pushed with his hips. With very little effort, he glided inside, his cock buried to the hilt.

She huffed out a breath of surprise.

“Is it finished?”she asked.

“Almost.”

A tear formed at the corner of her eye, and he kissed it away.

“I’m not a virgin anymore, am I?”

“No.”

“I’m so delighted it was you.”

“I am, too.” She was hot and tight, her virgin’s blood luring him to his doom. “Put your arms around me.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, just like that. Hold me.”

“I will.”

He tried to restrain himself, tried to keep from ramming into her like a rampaging bull, but he couldn’t maintain any dignity or decorum. He was too overwhelmed by her and always had been. Finally, they were at the spot where Fate had led them from the very start.

After a few hearty thrusts, his lust surged, his seed burning through his loins, and he spilled himself against her womb. He probably shouldn’t have, but he’d never sired a child, not in all his years of philandering, and there was no reason to expect it would end any differently with her.

He drove himself into her over and over, the pleasure continuing for an eternity, until eventually, he reached the apex and ground to a halt. He drew away and slid to the side as she rolled to face him. They were nose to nose, and he was relieved to see that she was smiling.

“You survived.” He was smiling, too.

“All in one piece.”

“You’re mine now. Mine forever.”

“Yes, yours forever.”

“No one can ever take away what we did. No one can ever change it.”

“No, and I’m so happy.”

“So am I,
chérie
.” And he really and truly was. About that one thing, he wasn’t lying at all.

“What do we do now?”she asked.

“We rest for a few minutes, then we do it again.” He raised a brow. “Unless you’re too sore?”

“It didn’t hurt very much.” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink color. “I think I could try it again.”

He sighed with contentment, and for a long while, they were quiet, lost in thought, with her draped across his chest.

“I found out some interesting news today,”he said when he hadn’t intended to speak.

“What was it?”

“I have a brother.”

“A brother? How wonderful.”

“I’ve never met him, but somehow, he discovered that I’d been at Bramble Bay. He came there to introduce himself.”

She popped up and looked at him. “He came to Bramble Bay?”

“Yes. Raven wrote me a letter. It’s why I was upset earlier.”

“What’s his name?”

“Phillip Sinclair. My father wasn’t the most circumspect man. He has many illegitimate children besides me.”

“I’d heard that.”

“Phillip is the oldest.” He snuggled her down. “Charles sent word with Phillip.”

“A message for you? From your father?”

“Yes. He knows about my line of…work. I suppose from Tristan Harcourt. He warned me to be careful, to stop my attacks so I don’t end up killed or hanged.”

“Thank the Lord.” She rose up again. “Will you listen to him any better than you’ve listened to me?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“He’s your
father
, Jean Pierre. You have to listen to him.” She frowned. “Have you ever had any previous contact with him?”

“No. Never.”

“My goodness.”

They stared and stared, and she eased down, a lazy hand rubbing over his heart as if she could sense how much it was aching.

“This must be quite a shock,”she mused.

“It is.”

“It must be distressing, too, to hear from him after all this time.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” He chuckled miserably. “Guess what else?”

“What?”

“I have sisters.”

“Sisters! An entire family!”

“Yes. They want me to come to London. They want to meet me.” He still couldn’t believe it. “Phillip invited me to stay with him in his home.”

“You’ll visit them, won’t you?”

“No,”he scoffed.

She lifted up and scowled. “What do you mean,
no
?”

“I would never meet them.”

“Why not? You’ve always been on your own and had to make your own way. You’d have some relatives. You wouldn’t be so lonely.”

“I’m not lonely,”he lied.