Twice the Temptation (43 page)

At that moment, Catherine didn’t know if she could speak had she been on fire. Dread washed over her in the form of trembling appendages. Bile rose in her throat. But she was frozen like a rabbit in the presence of a wild, ravenous carnivore that had it in its sight. 

Oh dear Lord oh dear Lord oh dear lord.
 

“He relayed a story to me that held some intriguing similarities to that of my brother’s encounter with
your dear friend,
Lady Meghan. How the event played out was nearly identical except you were cast in the role of Lady Meghan.” He paused and then said, “Does none of this sound familiar as I’ve already grown weary of reciting it?” 

Chills racked her person like some virulent disease. Her heart thudded heavy in her chest despair pounding with every erratic beat. 

He knows. He knows.
 

If she was more a strategist, she might have responded differently. Thought about it in the silence thick enough to choke the elephant perched happily on her chest. But like with too many things, she didn’t think first—or well enough. 

“We would not have done it if we had known Mr. Templeton was your brother.” It came out rushed, breathless, pleading. 

His expression grew even harder and his laugh was so far from amusement, it was laughable. “I’ll be certain to tell him that. I’m sure your reasons will go far in fixing things between he and Miss Shipley.” 

Each barb hit a nerve and she smarted from the blistering sting of it. “That did not come out—I mean, that wasn’t what I meant to— No, I mean—” 

“Oh believe me, I fully understand your meaning. He may have been spared this exercise, may have evaded the trap you set for him had you known his relation to me. But other men wholly unrelated to myself would not have been spared your false attentions.” He gave a harsh laugh. “It is funny, is it not, that not even I was spared your game of deception, and me you profess to love.” 

“Lucas—” 

“So tell me, was Miss Shipley an accomplice in all of this, or was she a victim as well?” 

The last thing Catherine wanted to do was to acknowledge Miss Shipley’s role in it but the lie she would have had to tell got stuck in her throat, making her initial silence her answer. 

“Hmm.” He shook his head. “It would seem maybe my brother is better off without her.” 

“Is it so wrong to want a man to prove himself,” she protested, his dig on Miss Shipley inspiring her to defend, not only the girl, but herself. Get him to see the motivation behind their actions. 

“Not if it calls for trickery,” he bit out, his cheeks flushed in anger. 

“The men aren’t being forced to do anything they don’t want to,” she protested. 

Lucas reared back and then his gaze narrowed down at her. “Men? Are you telling me you and your friends have made a sport of this? So it’s not just Landry and Patrick? How many have there— Oh my God,
Billings
,” he exclaimed softly when it finally dawned on him. 

Catherine cringed and her recent defense of their actions was washed away under the tidal wave of his anger and her tremendous guilt. In that instant, Lucas managed to make her feel all of two feet tall, his disapproval and disgust twisting his mouth as he hardened against her. 

Silence descended. 

Catherine dropped her gaze, wishing the floor would open and swallow her whole. But she could not wallow in silence. Not again. And after everything that had happened and all that he now knew about her, he deserved nothing but absolute honesty for he didn’t know the worst about her yet. 

In a shaky voice, she lifted her head, stared him directly in the eyes, and began. “I know you disapprove of my role in this and I can hardly blame you for that, he is your brother and you love him very much. I can honestly say I did not know anything about the wager. If I had, I certainly would not have participated, though that may not be of any consolation to you or your brother. But while our methods may not have been the best, we did this with our hearts free of malice. To many women, fidelity is as coupled with love and marriage as the wedding vows they will take. For them, this gives them peace of mind and allows them to trust the man they hope to marry. I hope we can agree that your sister is better off without Lord Billings.” 

Lucas let out an audible breath and briefly raised his gaze skyward. He appeared exasperated, as if he was battling with himself. 

“But I have done something of which I am truly ashamed. My actions, I believe, you will find much more egregious than what you already know and have learned about me.” 

His eyes narrowed and darkened, and he grew eerily still. 

Catherine fought to hold his gaze but it was difficult given what she was about to confess. Now he would know how selfish and dishonest a person she could be and the things of which she was capable. “When we first met in London, I confided to you that I felt responsible for my sister’s flight from England. Those were not mere words. I meant them because it was the truth. I was responsible. I sent her a letter that threatened to make our heritage public if she went through with her marriage to Alex.” 

Catherine held her breath and steeled herself for his reaction, certain the disgust he had for her would only increase one hundred fold. 

He regarded her steadily, his expression inscrutable. He spoke after a silence that seemed to go on for days. “And you did it because you were terrified of losing her. You thought you’d already lost her, is that not it? You were jealous of Alex and desperate to hang on to the one person in your life who meant everything to you.” 

Catherine’s mouth fell open and a breath escaped. She became light-headed. 

“I quite shamelessly blackmailed your sister into telling me when she came to see me after I left the house party. But I suspected your involvement in it long before that. I did not know the exact nature of it but I always sensed that you were anguished by what you had done and carried the guilt of your actions every day since. I also know that your sister and brother-in-law have forgiven you. Indeed Charlotte was most eager to share the blame.” 

Tears pooled in her eyes and her hand fluttered at her throat as she swallowed hard. 

“I did not say anything to you because I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me yourself. You see, a folly of youth I can understand. But you aren’t a girl anymore,” he said, his tone hardening. “I cannot condone what you do now. You and your friends are responsible for ruining my brother’s chance of happiness with the woman he loves. I cannot forget or forgive that.” 

A string of protests formed on her tongue but the cold glitter in his eyes prevented her from voicing them. Instead she bodily threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She inhaled his cologne and his masculine scent. She reached up, clasped the back of his head with both hands, and pulled his mouth down to hers. Catherine put everything she had into the kiss. Her desperation, her fear, her guilt, her trust, and her love, she gave it all. 

“I’m so-sorry,” she panted against his lips. 

His hands gripped her forearms and she nearly sobbed knowing what would come next. Wailed at the loss that would soon be hers. But instead of wrenching her from him, after long anxious beats, he parted his lips and devoured hers. 

Everything faded around her. Too aroused and grateful to be able to touch him, kiss him, press hard as she could against him, she barely felt the cool air on her breasts until she felt the wet heat of him sucking her nipple into his mouth. She moaned as heat blazed a trail down to her center. 

He’d backed her up against the bookshelf, she realized, dazed and utterly at the mercy of the hunger that held her prisoner. Tipping her head back to rest on the leather bound books behind her, she sifted her hand through his hair as he pleasured her, first one breast then the other. 

She was nearly weeping, her need all-consuming when he tunneled under her skirt and petticoats and divested her of her under garment. Before she could catch her breath, he had released his erection and slid smoothly into her. With a solid thrust he was all the way in. 

Catherine let out a strangled gasp. The books and shelves pressed into her back but the only thing she felt was the thick length of him inside her. And with each delicious thrust, the fortress she hadn’t known she had built around her crumbled stone by stone, wall by wall, until it was nothing but gravel and dust. 

Lucas loved her and he had forgiven her knowing all her sins. 

A ragged groan seemed wrenched from his throat as her internal muscles tightened around him and soon his thrusts became less tempered. The sounds of lovemaking filled the room: grunts, groans, moans, whimpers, and labored breathing, mixed with hard flesh sliding easily into moist giving flesh. Catherine had never felt so full as she edged closer and closer to release. 

With a swiftness that had her head spinning, she found herself no longer pressed against the bookshelf but bent over her brother’s desk, her hands splayed on top. The next thing she knew, Lucas had her legs spread and her skirt and petticoats up in the back. Angling her head over her shoulder, she stared at him through slitted eyes and watched as he stared down at her bottom, which his hands had begun to caress. His touch was almost reverent but the lust in his eyes was all sin. 

He ran the tip of his member down the seam of her sex. Anticipation and desire twisted her insides and had her canting her hips, seeking, searching, desperate for the relief only he could give. Clasping her hips, he held her steady and probed her entrance. The torture was excruciating, she nearly wept with need. 

“Is this what you want?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He teased her, pressing into her only with the tip of his member. 

Catherine let out a whimper and pressed back against him, trying to take him in deeper. 

“Is that what you want?” he repeated, tormenting her with the shallowest of thrusts. 

“Yes. God yes,” she panted, desperate and aching. 

He groaned long and low as if being tortured himself. 

“How deep?” he grunted, one hand kneading her bottom, the other guiding his shaft as he continued his shallow thrusting. 

“Deeper,” she gasped, shameless in her need, thinking nothing but finding relief. 

Lucas responded by pressing deeper into her. Catherine dropped her head, breathing heavily. 

“Deeper,” she said weakly, her arms straining to keep herself up. 

He groaned and went deeper and her inner muscles constricted tightly around him. 

Lucas let loose a string of profanity-laden terms and her arms gave away beneath her, which pushed her bottom higher in the air and brought her cheek flush against the top of the desk. 

That seemed to release whatever tether Lucas had had on his control as he drove into her to the hilt, and then pounded her relentlessly. With her body already on the cusp, her climax came quickly, a kaleidoscope of colors at the summit. Her mind went blank and she stiffened. She knew only an exquisite peak then voluptuous waves of pleasure. Her sex contracted strongly around him, squeezing him, milking him. 

In the midst of her descent from heaven, his hands tightened on her hips and he slammed into her one final time. The pleasure of his release had her peaking again, a mini-climax that left her spent and sated. 

They remained like that for another minute, their chests heaving on labored breaths. Slowly, he dropped his hand from her bottom and slid out of her. Catherine gave an involuntary moan   of distress at the loss of him. 

He pushed her petticoats and skirt back down over her hips and then proceeded to put himself back together, which meant adjusting himself and buttoning his trousers. Catherine stood and held her bodice up against her breasts. 

Turning to face him, she stared deep into his eyes and felt their connection in every part of her. This man loved her and had forgiven her her most egregious trespass. There was nothing that could separate them now. 

“Lucas,” she whispered lovingly. Using her free hand, she placed her palm on his cheek and reached up to kiss him. He swiftly backed away, leaving her hand suspended in the air. 

“What is it?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “I thought…” She gestured helplessly to the desk. 

“That changes nothing,” he stated, his voice intractable. 

Dismayed, heartsick, she shook her head in confusion. “Then why?” 

Lucas regarded her intently, as if memorizing every one of her features. After several beats of silence he stated evenly, “The last time we made love, I would not have known that it would be the last time. This time I know that to be the case.” 

The higher the ascent, the more destructive the descent. Catherine experienced both in a matter of seconds with his words. 

“Lucas—” 

“I think you have done and said quite enough, don’t you?” He paused and then said, “And if there are any consequences, be sure to contact me.” 

This time there was no goodbye. He simply turned, unlocked the door, and disappeared through it before she could think of a solitary thing to say that might have made a difference. 

She stood there holding her bodice up against her chest, tears falling down her face long after he’d gone. 

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY