Rose's Rapture: Lords of the Night, Book Two (7 page)

She snorted. “Only for a man.”

Lazarus’s lips quirked and his eyes sparkled devilishly. “I suppose that’s true. What of lovers? Surely you’ve had lovers since your husband’s death.”

Abigail pulled back aghast. She’d known from the moment they’d met that he was brazen, a rake in the first order. She just didn’t know how brazen until now. “I daresay that is too personal, my lord.”

“Forgive me, my lady.” He bowed low. “I was only inquiring to see if the position was available, not to pry.” His smile widened.

Abigail laughed. She couldn’t help it. “You are quite bold.”

Lazarus leaned closer. “You have no idea how bold I can be. Allow me to demonstrate,” he said, taking her into his arms.

“What are you doing? This is entirely improper, my lord. Someone might see.”

“They won’t,” he said, his warm breath fanning across her face. The press of his firm lips sent Abigail’s head spinning. Her hands automatically reached for his arms in order to steady herself. Lazarus teased her mouth, coaxing a response like a master lover. The words stuck in her mind. Abigail had no doubt he would be too, if she allowed him in her bed.

The thought sent moisture flooding to places in her body she’d thought were long dead. Her nipples pebbled beneath her gown as he pulled her closer, molding her length to his chest. Abigail heard a moan, but she had no idea whether it came from him or her. She curled her fingers until she gripped his coat. The sweet taste of his kiss enveloped her, drugging her senses, while spiking her need. Suddenly, Abigail couldn’t get enough of him.

Lazarus deepened the kiss as nourishment from her passion fed his body. His cells came to life, hardening his shaft and sharpening his thoughts. He wanted this woman, needed her. The venom he carried in his saliva that worked like an aphrodisiac spread from his mouth to hers. His hunger exploded as he nipped her lips and teased her tongue. She tasted like the sweetest confection, the richest wine. And he would never get enough of her. Soon she would need his touch, crave it, like he craved hers.

That thought brought him up short and he pulled back, while he still had the strength to do so. Lazarus’s body protested, not nearly sated. He’d promised Abigail he would only take a moment of her time. He had to get her back in the room before his magic wore off and her guests realized that they hadn’t seen her for a while.

He stared into her face, taking in her moist kiss-swollen lips. The urge to taste her again was strong. The venom may not be working on her yet, but it was clearly affecting him. He relentlessly beat the need back. “We’d better return.”

Desire slackened her features. Abigail blinked and shook her head. “Yes, of course.”

“We will finish this later,” Lazarus said, stating both a promise and a vow. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, then brought it to his mouth for another taste.

Abigail’s hand trembled. She touched her lips, then responded, “On top of being bold, you’re awfully sure of yourself, my lord.”

Lazarus paused, allowing the vulnerability he felt to show in his eyes. “Not of myself, but of you, my lady.”

She gave him a slight smile that told him everything without a word spoken. He led her back inside. Everything he desired coalesced in that one moment. Lazarus knew beyond a doubt he’d have Abigail tonight. Her need would be too great to turn him away…he hoped. All he had to do now was figure out how to keep her.

* * * * *

CHAPTER FIVE

William Longfellow entered the small inn owned by a man named Bettlesworth. He was tired and had traveled far. The wind tore through him as if he’d gone uncloaked. He cursed the wet weather under his breath as he strode across the room to the roaring fire and sat at one of the tables situated closest to the crackling blaze. The clergy were wrong about Hell. It wasn’t warm at all. It was bitter cold. Much like this godforsaken place. Why anyone would choose to live in Scotland he did not know. The land was full of sodden heathens and thieves.

He glanced around the room. The area nearby was deserted, which was good. He was in no mood for company. It had taken days and considerable blunt to bribe the doorman at Josephine’s in order to find out where Rose had gone. Blunt he did not have. His temper was still smarting over the man’s insolence, but at least he was getting closer to his ultimate goal. William rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get feeling back into them. They tingled and burned, sending sharp pains shooting up his arms. “Brandy,” he called out to the inn keep before settling deeper into the chair.

The portly man hobbled over, carrying a bottle and a glass. He poured a glass and set it on the table.

William’s gaze skewered him. “Leave the bottle and bring me some food.”

Bettlesworth nodded and turned to depart.

“Wait!” William reached out to stop the man despite the effort it took to get his limbs to work. “Have you seen a red-haired woman come through these parts? She might have been traveling with a high born.”

“Can’t say that I have.” He shook his head. “Don’t recall any highborns.” His gaze moved to William’s topaz ring as the jewel caught the firelight.  “Beyond you, that is, my lord.”

He cleared his throat and the man jumped. “She would’ve come through here, heading north, perhaps a month ago or so.”

Bettlesworth rubbed his double chins and his eyes scrunched. “Nope, doesn’t sound familiar.”

William held onto his temper by a thread. “I’m trying to find my missing fiancé.” He paused. “She thinks I’m dead.”

Bettlesworth’s brown eyes latched onto his face and bore into him, searching for the truth.

William feigned vulnerability he did not feel. “Please, I have to find her.”

The innkeeper sighed. “Now that you mention it, I do recall a woman with coppery red hair. A beauty, she was, but not in the company of a highborn. She was traveling with a female companion. Quiet. Kept to herself. The room was paid upfront. She stayed one night and then left.”

“Do you by chance know where she went?” William couldn’t keep the hopeful note from this voice.

The man wiped his hands on the rag tied at his abundant waist. His brows furrowed in thought.

William fought the urge to throttle him. His lips thinned as he reached into his pocket for a coin. “Perhaps this will assist your faulty memory.” He slammed the coin down on the table. Bettlesworth snatched it up and shoved it into his pocket.

“I believe I heard one of the lady’s coachmen say that they were going to Hyde Hall,” he said.

William smiled. “Thank you. You’ve been of great help.” He turned his shoulder to the man and stared into his drink. He had finally located her. Soon Rose would be within his grasp.

* * * * *

Abigail slipped the night rail over her head. The material brushed her naked flesh, bringing her skin alive with a fresh wave of sensation. She’d been tingling ever since Lazarus kissed her. An hour later the aches had begun, but these weren’t from any illness. They were a bone deep yearning that she couldn’t ignore. It was as if her body had suddenly developed a mind of its own. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, allowing the events of the evening to replay in her mind.

A small secretive smile flittered over her lips as she recalled the moment she’d laid eyes upon Lord Lazarus Hyde. The man was beyond virile and excited Abigail more than she dare admit. He drew her like a lodestone. It wasn’t simply his fair looks, though they were something to behold. The attraction ran deeper than that. He had an intangible air about him that kept her orbiting near him.

She’d felt fine until their walk on the terrace. After that it had been a constant battle to control her raging urges. Abigail squeezed her thighs together to assuage the need growing inside her, then bit her lip to keep from groaning.

She walked to the side of her bed and pulled the covlet back, then threw the windows wide. Her bedroom was warm, despite the coolness of the Scottish air. Her body even more so. What had he done to her? Surely one kiss couldn’t do this. She caught the shift of a shadow in the darkness out of the peripheral of her eye. Hand to heart, she opened her mouth to scream.

“Please do not. It’s me.” The words came out in a rush, but Abigail recognized the voice instantly. The flesh on her arms rose and her nipples crinkled tightly. Lazarus stepped from the glom like a phantom solidifying before her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, taking a step back. Feeling like she did, Abigail didn’t trust herself not to do something outrageous like launch herself into his arms.

“I told you that we would continue our conversation later.” Lazarus shrugged nonchalantly. “This is later.” He smiled and began to stalk her, prowling forward, herding her back toward the bed.

“Lord Hyde, you shouldn’t be here.” She glanced from side to side, searching for a means of escape. “This is highly improper.” The material of her gown brushed her flesh and Abigail gasped as need tore through her.

Lazarus’s gaze lingered on the front of her gown and her nipples tightened to the point of pain. “Tell me to leave,” he said. The statement was followed by a look of astonishment, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d made the offer.

Abigail’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. She ached from head to toe and desperately needed someone to fill the emptiness. Not someone…
him
. It had been five years since her husband passed. Five years without a man’s touch. She wasn’t at all sure she could deny herself any longer. “How did you get in?” she asked, instead of responding to his demand.

He grinned. “I never left.”

“This is highly scandalous. If anyone were to find out…”

He shook his head, sending his dark hair into his face. “They won’t.”

If anything, he looked even more untamed. Abigail’s hand moved to her throat protectively. “Tis wrong.”

“Why?” The question left his sensual lips on a whisper. “I know that you want me. You’re aware by now that I desire you,” he said, the intent in his mesmerizing eyes clear.

Abigail watched his gaze turn molten as it reflected the hearth’s firelight. “That’s not the issue. I am a lady. A lady does not behave in such a manner. And you, sir, are a gentleman.”

Lazarus gave a pained laugh. “I’ve been called many things over the years, but rarely a gentleman.” He smiled. “A true gentleman wouldn’t have spent the entire evening trying to figure out how to lay you bare. I’ve thought of little else since I glimpsed you across the ballroom. Given more time, I’d woo you like you deserve, but I fear that time is a luxury I have little of.”

She licked her lips and swallowed hard as she watched his long fingers move to untie his snowy white cravat. With each flick of his wrist her heart throbbed in anticipation. He dropped it onto a chair, then shrugged out of his coat and tugged his shirt off.

Abigail couldn’t seem to catch her breath as her gaze feasted upon his bare chest. Lazarus sauntered toward her. “Stay back,” she warned, but he kept coming. She stepped back and her knees hit the bed. There was nowhere to go besides over it. Abigail picked up her gown and scrambled over the linens. He was on her before she made it to the center of the bed, pinning her down. His warmth spread through her limbs as if she were naked. Abigail struggled for purchase, finding none. She wiggled, trying to escape. Lazarus’s arms tightened and his knees locked, trapping her beneath him.

“You will be mine,” he said a second before his mouth descended.

This kiss wasn’t like the first. This one held a savage hunger that Abigail couldn’t begin to fathom. The same sweetness she’d tasted earlier flooded her mouth. He pulled her closer, his fingers clasping her jaw, opening her to his invasion. Her body went up in flames. The ache turned into a painful, unrelenting throb.

She gasped, trying to draw breath. Relentless, he seized her mouth again and deepened the embrace. Her fingers dug into his flesh, but instead of pushing him away Abigail pulled him closer. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she was powerless to stop it.

Lazarus stopped kissing her only long enough to remove his Hessians and stockings, then he slowly and seductively shucked his breeches. The second he tossed the clothing aside Abigail’s breath seized in her lungs. She had never seen so many ripples of muscle on a man or such masculine beauty. He truly was a work of art.

Her husband had been stout, but soft. She’d felt comforted in his arms, not protected. Not like she knew she’d feel in Lazarus’s embrace. He was a powerful beast built for stamina. Her stomach fluttered as her gaze dropped lower to the throbbing mass jutting up from between his thick thighs. Oh my...

He stopped a few feet in front of her. “Abigail, I want you to remove your night rail,” he said, his voice raw with passion.

Her hands trembled. “I can’t.”

Lazarus trailed a finger over her bare collarbone. “Remove it or I’ll rip it from your body. I need to see you now. All of you.” He licked his bottom lip in anticipation.

Abigail couldn’t seem to get her fingers to work. The material slipped through her hands as she tried to unbutton it. Lazarus growled in frustration, then grabbed the gown with both hands and ripped it straight down the middle, before tossing the ruined fabric aside.

Heat poured off his body in wicked waves, licking at her fevered skin. Abigail’s nipples puckered as his gaze swept the length of her, devouring every inch before pausing at the thick blonde curls covering her now moist sex.

“I can taste you and I haven’t even touched you yet,” his voice rasped out the words like a verbal caress.

Abigail’s clit twitched and her body quivered. “You scatter my wits. I’m blushing like a bride on her wedding night. If I had an ounce of self-preservation, I’d be screaming for help.”

“But you won’t, because you want this.
You want me
.” His eyes glinted with lust, and something she refused to explore. “We’ve been destined to do this since time immortal. Can’t you feel it?”

Abigail did feel it, but she shook her head in denial.

Lazarus swept his hands along her arms, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. “Spread your legs for me. I want to see you.”