The Viscount's Addiction (19 page)

It was only after Lord Blackwood stepped into the room that Mary hastened to leave.

He shut the door behind him and strode across the room to stand behind her. Her breath grew shallow. He looked utterly dangerous and absolutely tempting in his perfectly fitted, stark black evening clothes.

“Beautiful,” he said, and scooped his fingers beneath her daringly low neckline. “Now take it off. I want you before we go.” He plunged his fingers in deeper to squeeze one of her nipples. He lowered his mouth to her ear, his warm breath sending shivers up her spine. “I’m desperate for you.”

She breathed in the clean, masculine scent of him and stifled a sigh. It took every ounce of self-possession to take his hand from her breast. “No. Not ever again. This evening is a new beginning for both of us. As decided, this marriage is at an end.”

He straightened to his imposing height. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

She tried for a light laugh. “How often did you tell me you would kick me out on my bottom? I’m trying to make this easier for you. It is what you’ve wanted, an end to this deceit.”

He raked back his sleek black hair. The muscles in his jaw were still twitching. “You know I no longer hold you to blame. I have apologized.”

“True, but it took Lewis to convince you. You never once believed me. And even if I hadn’t wanted to deceive you, it does not change the fact that the marriage is a sham.”

“I realize there were times I acted a complete and utter bastard, but you must know that from the start I considered you mine. You were always safe with me. Always.”

Pain seemed to resonate in his voice. Or was it an imagined echo of what she was feeling? Truth was, she had never felt secure. Only last night she’d expected the constable to drag her away. “Tonight I am attending as Miss Nash, your relation by way of your uncle’s marriage—”

“Admit it. It is you who want freedom from me.”

“Do not sound so harsh. What difference whose idea it is?’” she said, as she tugged on her white kid gloves.

She took a paper from her dressing table and handed it to him. “I’m taking that position as governess in Brighton. A widower with three young children. Since you tore up my letter of acceptance, I will just present myself at the man’s doorstep.” She stood, retrieved her shawl and snatched up her fan. “I am grateful you allowed Lewis to stay on and settle his father’s affairs. Now that Henry is gone, having a stepbrother in residence will ward off scandal. I’d like to leave before any ugly whispers start.”

“If you had allowed me to introduce you to Constable Jeffers as my wife,
as I’d wished to,
scandal would have been averted.”

“To be sure, a clandestine marriage to a notorious villain such as yourself would surely not have started tongues wagging.” She’d said it playfully, but it only served to increase his anger.

“Shall we go?” she asked. Her skirt brushed against his legs as she swept out of the room.

She could feel him at her back like a malevolent force as she headed down the staircase.

“Just think of all the beauties who will be vying for your attention,” she said, trying to mollify him. She bit her lip to stop it from quivering.

“That widower will fall instantly in love with you,” he growled, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “You will be raising another man’s children.”

He sounded insulted and hurt. The gall of the man. Hadn’t he made it abundantly clear he did not want her to have his babies?

She was more than happy to see William waiting in the entrance hall.

William’s eyes blinked wide as he watched her approach. He blew out a low whistle. “You won’t be taking her out lookin’ like that, will you, lad? You’ll have a riot on your hands.”

Clearly irritated, Ryder seized his top hat and greatcoat from William, who stood immobile, his pale blue eyes glued to her.

She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “He won’t be taking me at all. I’ve arranged to go with our neighbor, Miss Whitcomb.”

“You are riding with me,” Ryder insisted.

He reached for her and she moved quickly out of his way. She threw open the door and stepped out into the crisp night air. With relief, she could see Miss Whitcomb’s carriage in the distance. “Punctual as always,” she said with undisguised relief.

Lord Blackwood donned his hat. His back stiffened as the carriage pulled into the drive. He raised an arm for her to take, and she eyed him suspiciously. “You’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me anymore. I only mean to be polite.”

She wrapped her gloved fingers around his massive arm. He closed his hand around hers to lead her to the carriage. It seemed both their hands were trembling.



A suspenseful hush greeted Jessie the instant she entered the Ducketts’ home. She overheard the deflated sighs of some women standing nearby when they realized Lord Blackwood had not accompanied her. Clearly, they expected the formidable viscount to provide the evening’s thrill.

A feeling of loneliness overtook her. Rather than immerse herself in the festivities, she chose to sit beside Miss Whitcomb in a recessed room devoted to card games.

Her gaze strayed in the direction of the hall. Where the devil was he? It was ridiculous to think her rejection of him would cause him to take up his vice again, and yet she couldn’t help worrying.

Unfortunately, she did not blend in with the wallpaper for long. The twins soon discovered her. They immediately suffocated her with attention. Joseph, elegant in his military regalia, plied her with weak lemonade. And Jeffrey tried to woo her onto the dance floor. When his voice took on a pleading note, she finally relented and let him lead her out.

The chandeliers glittered with tiny candles making the polished floor gleam like the night sky. The ornate mirrors that lined the room intensified the light. She caught her sad-eyed reflection in the silvered glass and felt sorry for Jeffrey. Peering into his eager face, she attempted a smile as they partnered off for the minuet.

When Lord Blackwood finally arrived, his entrance was heralded with awed whispers and a fluttering of fans. She caught glimpses of him as her partner circled her. Lord Blackwood acknowledged people with a curt nod or a few words as he walked the edges of the room. Not walked—prowled. Like an animal on the hunt, and she felt the prey.

“Will you honor me again?” Jeffrey asked the instant the music died away.

“I think I need some fresh air,” she said, and he fell in step with her as she walked toward the garden doors.

“It is terribly hot in here. Perhaps we should take a turn on the balcony,” Jeffrey suggested.

“Or perhaps not.”

Jeffrey flinched at the sound of the deep, intimidating voice. With a wary expression, he turned to face the man behind him. “Lord Blackwood, I did not realize the young lady was with you.” Jeffrey tugged uneasily at his cravat.

Lord Blackwood gave a slight bow and put his arm out for Jessie to take. The room was instantly silent, as if everyone waited for her reaction to the infamous viscount. She was certain there had been curious whispers about their relationship. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the staring faces. In this public arena, she would not shun him even if it meant the ruin of her own reputation. Though he seemed indifferent to people’s opinions of him, she felt he deserved respect, not fear. With an air of nonchalance, she accepted his arm and allowed him to escort her out onto the deserted balcony.

She wrapped her gloved hands around the railing and breathed in the exotic scent of the nocturnal blooms. The warm, fragrant night brought back a memory of Africa, when she and her father danced beneath the canopy of a massive baobab tree as they listened to the far off sounds of tribal drums.

Ryder placed a warm kiss at the nape of her neck that made her body tremble with pleasure.

“Miss Nash, is everything all right?” Miss Whitcomb held the door ajar, reluctant to step out onto the balcony.

Before she had an opportunity to reply, Lord Blackwood spoke. “Everything is fine.

I merely wanted to enjoy the starlit night with my wife.”

Jessie gave his tailcoat a hard tug, but it did not stop him from explaining further. “I’m afraid my wife was not feeling very kindly toward me tonight and thought it

great fun to taunt me. But, I assure you, Miss Nash
is
Lady Blackwood.”

Miss Whitcomb shut the door with a rattle of the glass panes. “Splendid. Within seconds the entire party will know,” Jessie said.

Jessie wondered if he had turned to opium again. He was acting so irrationally. She looked up into his eyes to see if the pupils were constricted, but the candles in the wall sconces provided little illumination. “Please tell me you haven’t indulged those cravings tonight.”

“I haven’t. You would not let me touch you, if you recall,” he said resentfully. She felt her cheeks warm with a blush. “I was not referring to that.”

“No laudanum for me tonight. Though you may drive me to it.” “That is blackmail.”

He shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

He took her hand and pulled her with him. “Come.”

They entered a side entrance to the gardens of the estate. The moonlight threw eerie shadows on the sculptures set among the roses, giving the carvings sinister qualities. Ryder headed straight for a tall, precisely trimmed hedge.

“Have the Duckett twins ever lured you into their garden maze?” he asked as he brushed the loose hair from her face.

“Their mother would never have allowed it,” she said. “
I
would never have allowed

it.”

His white teeth shone in the moonlight as he grinned. “Exactly the answer I was

hoping for.” He motioned her forward down a narrow path lined on both sides by ten-foot tall, smoothly trimmed hedges.

The dark corners of the maze were frightening and Jessie reached back for his hand. “Shall we turn back now?” she asked.

“No. I will tell you when we have reached our destination.”

She felt as if they were going in circles. She tightened her grip on his hand. “You certainly made it more difficult for yourself tonight. Now when you divorce me, the whole of the countryside shall know of it.”

He stopped abruptly and yanked her toward him. She bumped her nose into his hard chest. “Stop scaring the holy hell out of me. There will be no divorce. Not ever. It will be my children that you raise. Our children.”

She took hold of his lapels and peered up into his face. She could only make out the glint in his eyes. “Why?” she asked simply.

“Because I love you, Jess. I love you so much it makes me desperate. There is nothing I would not do to keep you with me.”

His admission left her speechless. He tucked her against his side and they continued walking deeper into the spiraling maze.

“You are not afraid of getting lost?”

“I did have a life before my incarceration. Invitations were offered with less reluctance in those days.”

Suddenly, they were in a round clearing where the moonlight cast a warm glow. It was empty except for a large, carved bench.

“We are at the center.” He released her, and she strolled the enchanted circle, letting her fingertips brush along the hedges.

“Do you recall promising to give me
anything
when I handed you that pistol?”

“I haven’t forgotten.” She thought of the incident often. It made her heartsick reliving that desperate moment when his uncle had attempted to coerce him into suicide.

“Well, this marriage is what I want. And I would appreciate a little reassurance, Jess.

At least tell me you don’t hate me. And that you won’t leave me.”

“I don’t hate you,” she said, and then hesitated a heart-stuttering moment before adding, “and I won’t leave you.”

“Fine,” he said curtly, clearly hoping for a different reply. “Then get naked, wife, before I die of want.”

She was so eager for his touch her hands trembled as she removed her gown and petticoats. She left her stays on, thinking it too much trouble to put them back on again.

He folded his tailcoat and waistcoat and set them at the end of the long bench. “There
are
things about you that I do love,” she said and boldly unfastened his

trousers. She untied his drawers and shoved them off his hips. Her hand molded around

his thick hard shaft.

She smoothed her hand down the length of him. “I also love these.” Her other hand weighed the heavy sacs that dangled between his thighs. She brought the cream that had formed at the tip of his cock to her lips. “And the taste of you.”

“Tease.” He started to loosen the lacings of her stays.

She tried to brush his hands away, but he insisted on having her completely nude. He did not allow her the same privilege. He took hold of her wrists when she attempted to remove his shirt. Taking a seat on the stone bench, he pulled her to him, his erection, as always, an impressive sight. She straddled his thighs.

“I want you completely undone.” He reached up and began pulling the pins from her hair.

With a cry of protest, she batted at his hands. “How will I return to the party?” Despite her objections, her hair tumbled, the pearl aigrette falling to the grass. With a sly smile he combed his fingers through her waist-length tresses. His touch was electric.

“Anxious to return to your dance partner?”

Her gaze drifted over his face then focused on his strong, beautiful mouth. “He is extraordinarily handsome,” she said in a breathy whisper. She was dizzy just from looking at him. She ran her forefinger along his sensuous bottom lip.

With a carnal smile, he cupped her breasts in his big hands and swirled his thumbs roughly over her taut nipples. She put her hands on his knees behind her, jutting her breasts forward, giving him more access. He dipped his head. His hot mouth clamped over one of her nipples and sucked hard. His midnight black hair curtained his face. It felt like silk against her skin. He shifted his mouth. His recently shaven jaw smoothed over her breasts, and he pulled the other nipple between his teeth. A soft mewl escaped her lips as her pussy clenched with craving.

He lifted his head and studied her face. Behind the burning desire in his eyes, she thought she detected a flicker of sadness. She clutched his strong shoulders and placed her knees on the stone bench on either side of his muscular thighs. She lifted herself onto