Perilous Risk (24 page)

Was that such a crime?

Maybe not a crime, but probably not too wise—

His hand made hard contact with her bottom, through the nightdress.

Fiery pain blazed across her flesh.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

He rained several more strikes down on her arse, each harder than the last.

She tasted the coppery taste of her own blood as he continued to spank her, stopping, lifting her nightdress and then starting again, leaving no inch of her flesh neglected. She couldn’t bite the cries back any longer. Tears streamed from her eyes.

“The next time you suspect me of being a black-hearted devil, you come to me with your doubts before you go running off and placing yourself in danger.”

He placed a third fury of spanks on her burning buttocks.

God, his hand was so broad, so long, so strong! He didn’t want to use whips or crops on her? Maybe he didn’t even need too…

When he stopped, she lay limply, sobbing softly and wetting his dark woollen trousers with her tears.

After a few moments, he pulled her up. The intensity of the moment was too much, she attempted to burrow her face into the crevasse between his chest and his arm.

He smoothed her hair off her cheek. “God. I was so bloody worried about you.”

His gently spoken words rang with such restrained emotion, such sincerity.

She was instantly abashed. All of her faithless, doubting thoughts shamed her. “I am sorry, Stephen.”

Her own voice sounded anguished.

His body eased against hers. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

He gave her hair a hard tug, as though he were accentuating the passion behind his words.

She sighed and relaxed into him, pressing her cheek against his powerful body.

Stephen.

Hard, throbbing heat rose beneath her bottom. “I was without you, all night and all day yesterday,” he said.

This was his room? Had he been here last night? Had he also been ill? Or had that been one of his servants? Her heart panged at the thought that he might have been that ill. Had he eaten something rotten? He must have, for it seemed to have passed quickly. Tonight he brimmed with vigour.

Though he had been very pale at times whilst they had been together…

“On your knees, girl.” He gave her a gentle push out of his lap.

She dropped to the floor, kneeling and looking up at his gorgeous face.

His expression grew pained and he was wrenching at the buttons on his fall.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

No.
She bit her lip to keep from uttering the protest. She wanted to touch that proud, straining erection.

But that would be part of her punishment.

With a sigh, she obeyed him, locking her arms behind her back.

He held his cock for her. “Expedite the matter. I am not in a mood to be teased.”

She opened her mouth and hurried to engulf him, remembering the exact pressure of suction that he had favoured the other night.

He fisted his hand into her hair and pulled steadily. The dull pain sent currents of pleasure down her nape, her spine and made her nipples pull tight. She moaned, deep in her throat.

He groaned and tightened his grip on her hair and angled her head to suit his need. He thrust deeper, holding her head, taking all of the control, using her at the speed he wished.

She struggled to swallow, to keep up.

He was leaking, salty seed teased her tongue with a promise of more and he was groaning, his hoarse voice sounding harsher than it might have otherwise. He pumped into her, straining as though testing her. She gloried in having her endurance stretched to its limit.

She loved the slick steel feel of him against her lips and tongue. He tasted divine and she couldn’t stop moaning, the sound vibrating in her chest and her throat.

His cock quaked against her tongue, within her throat. Copious amounts of hot seed surged into her mouth, wave after wave.

She swallowed and swallowed, greedy for every gush that his pulsing erection delivered.

And then, too soon, it was over.

He withdrew himself and she fell limply against his legs and rested her head against his thighs.

He stroked her cheek, briefly then laid his hand still. “I am sorry, love, but I have unavoidable business to take care of.” He tapped his finger against her cheek, none too gently. “You’re to lock your door and open it to no one. I’ll return within two hours and we’ll have a rest and continue our journey by nightfall.”

She sighed and pressed her cheek. She would prefer it if he did not leave. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into the bed and melt into him.

“Do you understand me, Rebecca?”

She nodded.

“You will give your acquiesce aloud.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“If the inn catches fire, you may leave your chamber. Otherwise, you stay right here.”

“Yes, Stephen.”

He gave her bottom a smack. “Go get your key and bring it back to me.”

Another knock sounded. Rebecca stared at the door and chewed her nail.

“Rebecca, for God’s sake, open up.”

At Jon’s voice, she caught her breath. He wasn’t going to go away. And what would she possibly say?

She ran to the door. “Go away, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh Christ, Rebecca,” he said in a low tone. “Don’t be difficult.”

“I-I drank too much wine last night.” Her voice broke on the lie and she cleared her throat then continued. “I have a headache.”

“You never drink wine.”

She suppressed a growl of frustration. “Well, I did last night!”

“I have just the thing for your headache. I have brought a bottle of Scotch.”

Goodness. A peace offering. Fondness twisted her heart. “You promise to only stay a few minutes?”

What was it really going to matter? She would likely soon have to flee to America—or worse, and she’d never see him again. Surely, she didn’t want to part on bad terms?

“Of course. Just let me come in for a few moments.”

“Oh, very well.” On a sigh, she unlatched the door and opened it.

He held up an amber bottle and gave her a grin.

She couldn’t help smiling in answer.

“I’ll take that!” She reached out and took hold of the bottle and snatched it to herself.

“You always were a greedy little wench.”

“Shall I pour us a glass?”

He shook his head. “I am a father now. I have to abstain from all hard spirits. I let myself have one late at night, before retiring.”

“An abstainer? Goodness.” She sat on the bed and laid the bottle beside her.

He sat in the chair. “Anne sent me here.”

She raised her brows. “Your lady sent you here?”

“She was most unhappy with me for having quarrelled with you.”

He had told his lady wife about their petty squabble? She searched his open face.

Yes, of course he had.

Now his countess knew all those things Rebecca had said? Oh God, she just wanted to die.

“She has a high regard for you.”

That statement surprised her. “I wouldn’t know it, Jon.” She took a deep breath then dared to say. “She’s really quite a haughty, prickly thing. I hadn’t pictured you with such a lady.”

“Haughty and prickly.” His grin returned.

Heat suffused her face. “Well, she is.”

Damn it, why couldn’t she learn to hold her tongue? Because she never before had to with Jon.

He tapped his fingers on the chair arm. “I wanted to discuss something with you.”

Like a hundred tingling nettles, nervousness bristled through her insides. Goodness, he sounded so serious. “Go on.”

“I know how important your liberty is to you.”

She smiled to hide her current confusion over what she really had ever wanted from him. What she wanted from any man.

He shook his head. “I was so afraid of marriage but I had no choice. Ruel needed an heir. But I wanted a friendly marriage. I thought to myself, who do I trust the most in the world? Who is my right hand?”

Her throat grew tight. How could he possibly think that way about Maria? Rebecca’s stomach began to turn sick.

“I was so unhappy with you when you rejected my idea of a friendly marriage.”

A sudden sensation resounded in her chest, like that she used to feel when the cannons would fire on the battlefield. A shock.

His lips were still moving. She had difficulty hearing him over the pounding of her heart. On the ship, that night when he brought up the matter of a friendly marriage, dear God, he hadn’t been speaking of Maria at all…

He’d meant
her
.

Feeling a slight dizziness, she put her hand to her forehead.

“I was a little angry with you for quite a while afterwards.”

She put her hand down and glanced at him. ”Yes, you were. But you kept denying it.”

It felt so good to say that to him. To confront him about a time of confusion between them.

He grinned, a little sheepishly. “Your rejection of my proposal of a companionable marriage seemed like a rejection of our friendship.”

She put a hand to her collarbone. “My rejection? You were as clear as mud and you have to realize that.”

“I was afraid to be too open. I didn’t want to push you away if you weren’t favourable to the idea.”

She was still weak with shock.

“But now I see that if we had wed, my family would never have accepted it. They would never have accepted your common birth. I was being selfish, thoughtless.”

“Oh my.” What else could she have possibly said. She ran her fingers over the gilded label of the whisky bottle. God, she was dying to have a drink.

“And such a marriage would have short-changed us both,” he said.

“Yes, of course,” she said, numbly.

“Yes, we are friends and we had been so comfortable with each other. But love is…” He frowned. “Do you know? I wouldn’t have even noticed Anne.”

The way he said just her name, his tongue caressing it with such tenderness. Such joyful inflection, as though it were the greatest pleasure to just speak it.

This was her jaded, sophisticated Jonathon Lloyd?

No, it couldn’t be.

He was still speaking. Rebecca tried to be attentive.

“She seemed like such a quiet little mouse of a girl. I wouldn’t have had the sense to notice her. But she forced me to take notice. She has transformed my life. There could be no one else for me. Never.”

Oh, she didn’t care to hear more!

But he kept speaking. “All I am attempting to say is that you should reconsider your views. Marriage need not be a prison.”

She managed a half-hearted smile. “Maybe not for you.”

“Howland had problems with life. You know that. Not every man will be like him. You could find happiness, too. If you open your heart to it.”

He had not been the one who had betrayed a spouse.

“I have been hesitant to say this—it seemed too soon before but now—” he began.

Why hesitate now? He had been bold enough to say everything else today. She took a deep breath and forced down the sense of growing unease, of vexation. “Go on.”

“I could help you, Becky.”

Oh, to hear that old nickname on his lips. And his look was so tender, so fond.

“I could help you find a husband, a wealthy husband. Someone morally worthy of you.”

“Wealth and love?” She laughed weakly. “Do the two ever go together, Jon?” She could hear her voice shaking. Suddenly, she was so jittery that she jolted to her feet and began to pace.

“Sometimes they do, Becky.”

“Yes, I hear your wife is quite wealthy.” As soon as the words left her lips she stopped to cringe inside. Her tart tone still rang in her ears.

He compressed his lips for a moment. “What is it about her? Why will no one close to me accept her?”

The words were softly spoken yet she knew him too well. She could hear the emotion boiling beneath. A lump swelled in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

“All right, Rebecca. I won’t push any further. But promise me you’ll think about this.”

She wiped her sweating palms on her skirts. He was watching her. Was he remembering how sweaty her palms would get before a battle and how she would compulsively wipe her hands until he would finally take her hand into his own. He would tell her that she was going to be safe. That he was going to be safe. That only the good died young.

“I have found a new protector.” She blurted the words before she’d fully thought them out. But she couldn’t bear the fond, slightly pitying gaze he’d kept on her.

The look of startled surprise on his face sent a warm burst of satisfaction into Rebecca’s chest.