A Kiss of Lies (27 page)

He could never live with himself if he promised her the protection of his name only to discover that his name was now not enough to save her.

Despite all this, he could not live without her. He knew that much. He had to think long and hard before deciding on a course of action. Her life, and therefore his own, depended on the decision he made.

Lifting her tense hand from where it lay on his chest, Christian bent his head, closed his eyes, and slowly kissed it. He heard the unsteady inhalation of her breath as her tears fell upon
their joined hands. Her tiny sob melted his heart, and he covered her hand in kisses, every movement strengthening his resolve to reach deep within himself and protect her for the rest of her life. She would not end up dying young because of the brutality of her husband.

She was not alone, unlike his mother had been.

“We will think of a way to clear your name. For more than anything in the world, I want you to become my wife and the mother of my children. I love you, my beautiful girl.” He rested a hand on her belly. “You might already be carrying my child, and I want that more than anything.”

She put her hand on top of his and leaned in to press her lips to his scarred cheek. As she drew back she said simply, “I love you too.” At his look of disbelief she added, “Truly. It’s as if I’ve always loved you.”

“I don’t care about the past, Serena,” he whispered in a surge of fierce loyalty. “I want you to forgive yourself for what happened. God must agree you’re innocent, because he was helping you when he brought you to me. And I will lay down my life before I see you hurt further. We will work out a way to set you free. But I need time, time to consult with my lawyers and to build a substantial case. I’ll not reveal your identity until we are ready to win.”

“What if we can never prove it?” she asked in a subdued voice.

“Then we will retreat to Henslowe Court and live our lives in secret. I’m not giving you up, not ever. If we have to flee to the ends of the earth in order to stay together, we will. You, me, and Lily.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I’d die for you!” he exclaimed passionately.

“Even knowing what I have done and that I deceived you?”

“Yes,” he answered. “You’re not a murderess. You’re a survivor. A woman who was brave enough, and clever enough, to escape her fate. For I’m sure that had you stayed with Peter Dennett, he would have eventually killed you, just like my father killed my mother.”

“Brave? I’m not brave. I was petrified of him. The things I let him do to me …”

She looked at him with overwhelming self-hatred burning in her eyes.

“You’re brave because you took the risk of trusting again. You trusted me. I’m still humbled by that honor. You didn’t let a man like Peter Dennett destroy you or your life. What’s more, you have faced your fears. You let me into your bed. You trusted me with your body, and
after what you’ve been through, that is quite an accomplishment. It’s something I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life.”

“Thank you. Thank you for believing in me.” She hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position. Perhaps it would be better if I left, just walked away forever. What will Lily think when she hears I killed my husband?”

“We will explain everything to her. Like you say, women should not be kept in the dark about men such as your husband. A woman shouldn’t have to defend herself against such violence. There is no excuse for Dennett’s actions, but there is for yours.” They held each other tightly. “You gave yourself to me and you are mine, mine to protect and to love.”

She leaned closer and kissed his brow. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” She trailed soft fluttering kisses across his forehead, his eyelids, and his aristocratic nose. “I love you, Christian Trent. I hope you won’t live to regret this.”

“I’d regret it more if I let you go. I’ve wanted you so badly these last few days, I thought I’d combust.”

She moved to sit astride his lap. He’d believed her without any proof. He had accepted her deception as her right, given her situation. He still offered her his protection, and, most of all, he’d told her he still loved her. She wanted to prove how much his love and support meant to her. He had healed her and she was going to spend her life healing him and proving to him just how attracted she was to his radiant beauty, both internal and external. No man had moved her as much as he had. And no man had made desire flare with simply a smile. The pleasure he gave her when he worshiped her with his body, she would never take for granted. Tonight she wanted to make love to him. She wanted to give him untold pleasure with no thought to hers.

She captured his glittering gaze and with trembling hands freed his thick straining phallus from the confines of his breeches. His breathing grew ragged as she stroked him with her hands. She briefly left off her ministrations and untied her robe, shaking it off. Grabbing her night rail, she lifted it over her head.

He groaned and lowered his mouth to her breasts. She quivered as his warm hands clamped atop her thighs. She rose to her knees and guided him into her body. Her instigation of lovemaking, her willingness to take the lead, ignited something wild in him, just as his passion had set her soul on fire.

“I would never let any other man be where you are now. I’ll never love anyone the way I
love you.” She set about proving how much he meant to her. She hoped by demonstrating how willing she was to make love with him, by loving him utterly, he would feel like a whole man again after the shattering blows to his pride of having not only his body but his face mocked and pitied by others. Each time she said she loved him she saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. She wanted him to know her heart and know she spoke the truth.

She rocked slowly upon him watching the emotions play across his face. She loved the way he cupped her breasts; they fitted his hands perfectly. When he stroked her hardened nipples, she shuddered. He leaned forward and suckled each breast reverently. She rose to tease the tip of his cock before plunging down until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

He leaned back, his head resting on the back of the chair, and closed his eyes in bliss. “This is heaven. I never want to be anywhere else.”

His hand sought for the space between their bodies to find some part of her to pleasure, but she wouldn’t let him. “This is for you. I want you to enjoy me and think of yourself only for a change.” With lowered lashes, he accepted his gift.

His hands gripped her hips, and he couldn’t help but begin to thrust up into her. He let out a deep groan. After a few more slow teasing strokes, he gripped her harder, holding her so he could thrust just the way he wanted. She let him take control, for this was for him.

She could feel his breeches rubbing against her bare skin but did not dream of stopping him. Never in her life had she imagined that giving herself so completely to a man in this way—body and mind, heart and soul—could feel so wondrous.

She watched him, drinking in the beauty of his tense face, observing how the muscles in his neck corded with the tension of his desire, and how his eyes were hazed with passion and need.

His hunger for release grew and he thrust hot and hard between her legs, urgent and commanding with long, deep thrusts, almost dislodging her from his lap. She could feel her breasts bouncing with each deepening thrust.

His eyes flew open and he clutched one of her breasts in his hand. “Oh, God, Serena!” he gasped harshly, then went rigid and on the next mighty thrust he was seized by his climax with thunderous force. She leaned forward to clutch his shoulders in order to stay seated. His groan was long and penetrated to her very soul.

Afterward, only his panting filled the silence. He pulled her against him and hugged her
tightly. She stroked his head. “I love you,” she whispered.

Still holding her close, he answered, “I hope you always will.”

She smiled into the dimly lit room at his pensive murmur. “I’ll keep saying it all my life until you believe it.”

Christian’s hand splayed against her back, a finger stroking her spine. “Are you going to marry me, then?”

She leaned back, disentangling from his warmth, and shivered. “Do you still want me, knowing you may never be able to tell the world about me and knowing you may be unable to ever acknowledge our children?”

“I don’t care about any of that. I just want to know that you’ll always be mine.”

“We don’t need to be married for me to promise that.”

“So that’s a no?” She heard the disappointment and sorrow in his voice.

She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “That’s a yes, my darling. I would be honored to marry you.”

She was delighted to see a fragile bud of true, deep trust begin to unfurl in the depth of his eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“No more secrets between us, Serena. Promise me that.”

“You have my word,” she whispered as he gifted her with another kiss. “No more secrets between us, ever.”

Christian awoke the next morning filled with new determination. More than anything, he had to clear his name. If he were to aid Serena, his reputation must be spotless. He could ill afford to have the Duke of Barforte step forward and blemish his character with false accusations, or worse, deliberately set out to hit back at him by ensuring Serena hung.

He left the house early before she awoke, and headed directly to the meeting with John Farnham of the Bow Street Runners.

As he drove through the London streets, he couldn’t get the terrible image of Serena dangling at the end of a rope from his mind. He’d had a nightmare again last night, but this time it wasn’t the smell of burned skin tormenting him.

Serena had been beside him in bed to comfort him, and she gave herself to him to help chase the bad dreams away. Little did she know they were dreams of her impending death. He’d forced from his mind the awful image of her eyes bulging and her legs waving in the breeze as the breath was choked from her body, replacing it with the pleasure he took from her. She’d offered her lush curves and silken skin to him to ease his suffering. She gave generously, whispering words of love and devotion in his ear.

He couldn’t believe he’d found a woman he wanted to share his life with. On the battlefields of France, he’d dreamed of meeting a woman he at least liked the look of, and had hoped they would rub along well enough, and that he’d sire a son to continue his title. But to meet a woman who commanded his heart and soul was completely unexpected, especially considering his burns and hideous looks.

He had recognized from the very beginning in Canada that this woman was different. The minute she’d walked into his study in York and hadn’t flinched when she saw his face, he’d known she was the one. His biggest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to save her. Would fate be so cruel as to send him the woman of his dreams, only to let her be ripped from his arms?

Somehow Serena had given him back to himself. For too long, he’d been pitying himself. So what if his looks were gone? There were others far worse off than him—Serena, for one. At least he was perfectly capable of defending himself, of living a full and deserving life. Serena
had had any chance of happiness ripped from her, first by her grasping father and then by her evil husband.

How shallow he’d become.

He was ashamed of his actions these last few months. He swallowed, deciding he would try to overcome his shortcomings.

He couldn’t fail her. Serena had put her fate in his hands. The last thing he wanted to do was to fail her. For in failing Serena, he’d destroy any chance of his own happiness.

She should be the one scared and unable to sleep, but this morning, in wonder and reverence, he had watched her while she slept. He marveled that a beauty of such tiny stature had so much resilience and strength of character, even after enduring all that she had. He hadn’t hidden the fact that she would have to tell the world her story, and probably bare her back for all to see her whip marks.

For a woman of such a proud and noble upbringing, washing her dirty linen in public would be excruciatingly painful.

A fierce, tangled burning in his chest reminded him of his mission. What he now felt for Serena—the firestorm inside him, a primal certainty that he would walk through the fires of hell for her if he had to—was almost as painful as his burns had been. Her love had determined the course he now took to see her saved.

She was worthy of being saved. And by God he’d shrug off this cloak of self-pity and prove himself worthy of her faith and of her love.

By the time he’d returned from his unsatisfactory meeting with John Farnham, his mood had darkened. The Runner had found no leads regarding who’d killed Carla, but Farnham did know it couldn’t have been Christian. He’d been on the ship bound for Canada at the time of her death. Although, as Farnham rightly pointed out, it didn’t mean he hadn’t arranged for her to be killed in his absence.

Worse, Christian wasn’t looking forward to the opera tonight. He was attending with Hadley, having agreed to accompany him and Sebastian’s two younger sisters. Debutantes! That ought to get the
ton
’s notice. Two Libertine Scholars with debutantes on their arms. A first for both men, and one that he did not welcome.

Seated in the library, he contemplated how wonderful his life had become since Serena
and Lily entered it. He was waiting to say goodnight to Serena before he left to collect the Hawkestone ladies. She was occupied putting Lily to bed. The little girl was coping well with being in a new country and strange house. The resilience of the young was enviable. How he wished for their fortitude and ability to throw off sorrow.

He was on his third brandy. He wasn’t looking forward to this first foray back into society. He would be tormented by the endless questions that would be thrown at him about where he had been and why he had left England. He felt guilty because he was using Lily as his excuse. He would claim that he’d gone to bring home his ward and see to his Canadian business ventures.

He looked up as Serena entered the room. “I wish you could come with me,” Christian said before he could stop himself. “I’d much rather have you on my arm tonight.”