A Taste of Sin (31 page)

Sinjun’s face hardened. “Are you going to deny me?”

A glance at Sinjun’s inflexible features made her want to lash out at him. “Damn you, Sinjun! Where is your heart? What about love?”

“Love?” The word seemed to stun him. “Love means nothing to Lord Sin. Love is a fairy tale, Christy. Some might take love seriously, but I consider it a fantasy, reserved for innocent children like Niall.”

“At least you admit to loving your son,” she said quietly.

“Aye, Niall is too young to lie to me.” He sighed and pulled her closer. “The lack of love between us doesn’t mean we can’t give each other pleasure.”

Christy said nothing as the pain inside her became unbearable. She ached for Sinjun, for the unrequited love she bore him, and she ached because she would never know his love.

“Do you feel nothing for me?”

“I remember…” Abruptly he fell silent, as if fearing he would say something he’d regret later.

“What do you remember?” Christy prodded.

His expression hardened. “All your lies, the fabrications, the duplicity, those are the things I remember.”

“Go away, Sinjun,” Christy said on a sob. Of all the things he could have said, those words hurt the worst.

“Soon, but not now.”

His hands meandered down her thighs, and when they rose again they brought the hem of her nightdress with them, baring the silken whiteness of her limbs to the firelight. She gave a cry of dismay when he lifted her shoulders from the mattress and whisked the nightdress over her head, tossing it into the corner.

“You’re very good at seduction,” she said on a shaky sigh. She couldn’t think with his heat searing her, his scent surrounding her, filling her, teasing her senses.

“We were always good together,” he whispered against her lips.

His mouth closed over hers. He kissed her deeply, roughly, demanding a response she tried to deny and failed. Her mind spun dizzily, her body was aflame. A trembling cry escaped her lips when his mouth left hers to trace a fiery path down her body. When he eased her thighs apart, she braced herself for his entry, and was shocked when his head dipped down between her legs, his mouth nuzzling the bright triangle of curls. Her hips arched upward, into the heat of his mouth as his tongue flicked and swirled around the tender folds and swollen peaks. A cry wrenched from her throat and she surged upward into the most intimate of caresses. He explored the sleek, sensitive depths thoroughly, probing deeply, then laving the hardened bud of her femininity until shivers ran down her spine and desperate need vibrated through her.

He played her like a skilled musician, building toward a shattering crescendo. A flick of his tongue, an intimate caress, again and again, until she was trembling violently. He held her firmly against the heat of his mouth, driving her to that lofty place where she no longer had control of her body. It was his to do with as he pleased, to lead, to guide, to send soaring upward on multihued wings of splendor. She clung a blissful moment to the edge, then tumbled over.

Clutching the sheets in her hands, she rode the waves of pleasure shooting through her body as Sinjun crouched over her, watching, his erection pulsing against her belly. Pleasure was still vibrating through her when he spread her legs and drove deeply inside her. He was thick and full; her muscles clenched tightly around him and he groaned his appreciation. He wasn’t gentle, riding her hard and fast. She arched upward, moving with him, against him, the sheer heat of their bodies and his hard thrusts propelling her toward a second climax. A sound arose, a cry that came from deep in her throat, and she shattered.

Sinjun drove on, his expression intense, his concentration total. Bands of ropy tendons popped out on his neck and shoulders. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his body. After several deep thrusts, he stiffened, groaned, and spilled his seed hotly inside her. Long minutes passed as he held himself rigidly over her, pumping everything he had into her. Then he collapsed and lay still.

Flushed with sweet languor, Christy accepted his weight until she feared her lungs would collapse, then she pushed against his chest. Sinjun stirred and slowly eased himself away. He lay down beside her, saying nothing, not even looking at her, the breath whooshing from his lungs in short, explosive gasps.

Limp and sated, Christy stirred and looked up when Sinjun left the bed. His face, clearly outlined in the firelight, was hard and expressionless, but it was the look in his eyes that made the breath catch in her throat. They blazed with an emotion that defied logical description. Without uttering a single word, he rose from the bed, picked up his robe, and returned to his chamber.

Though outwardly Sinjun showed little emotion, turmoil roiled inside him. Dammit, he wanted Christy. No matter how he fought it, how hard he tried to convince himself he’d be better off without her, his body refused to listen. He wanted to stop the constant ache that gnawed at him, the tormenting desire driving him. He should have sent her to Glenmoor immediately, he knew that now. It wouldn’t have been difficult to find a wetnurse for Niall. He’d been a fool to let her pleas move him. Though her lies had nearly cost him his son, he hadn’t the heart to separate mother and child.

Bloody hell! She was driving him mad. He wanted her gone. He wanted his old life back. The way it had been before Christy had come to London and disrupted his lifestyle. The only good thing to come of their affair was his son, and he’d be damned if he’d let her raise him in the Highlands with those savages she called kinsmen.

Sinjun remained polite and withdrawn during the following days. Most days Christy didn’t see him at all. Clearly he was avoiding her, for he visited Niall only during those times when he knew she wasn’t with the babe. It was painfully obvious to Christy that he regretted making love to her. The only explanation she could give for his breach was that he’d been drunk. His long absences from home proved that he wanted nothing to do with her.

One day Lord Blakely came to call. Pemburton showed him into the back parlor used for informal visits, and Christy hurried downstairs to greet him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “I went to your lodgings and learned you had left rather abruptly. I didn’t betray you, dear lady. I steadfastly refused to tell Sinjun where to find you, but obviously it didn’t matter, for he found you on his own. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Not physically.
“He didn’t hurt me. Sinjun isn’t a violent man. How did you know I’d be here?”

“I suppose it was a natural assumption.” He searched her face. “You
are
all right, aren’t you? I hope you’re here because you want to be.”

She studied her hands, contemplating her answer. “I’m here because I was given no other choice.”

“I know Sinjun is angry with you but—”

“He has every right to be angry. If you haven’t spoken with Sinjun lately, then you don’t know the entire story.”

“I know about the Cameron chieftain. Sinjun told me that much.”

“Sinjun doesn’t know everything, no one does,” Christy said cryptically. “I was referring to our son. Mine and Sinjun’s.”

Rudy’s fine brow wrinkled. “I’m sorry about the child, my lady. I have it on good authority that Sinjun was quite looking forward to fatherhood. The child’s death was hard on him, and he cast himself headlong down the path to perdition to forget.”

“I wasn’t honest with Sinjun,” Christy explained. “Our son—”

A child’s plaintive cry wafted through the house, stopping her words in midsentence. Rudy’s head shot up, and he stared at Christy, his eyebrows raised in question.

“I … well, you may as well know the truth,” Christy began. “Our child didn’t die. I lied to Sinjun for reasons of my own.”

“Good God! No wonder Sinjun is upset. I cannot believe it of you. What did you hope to gain?”

Christy flushed. Though she didn’t want Rudy to think badly of her, she had no intention of explaining. Sinjun was the only one due an explanation, and he didn’t want one.

“It’s between me and Sinjun,” Christy said, “and he isn’t in the mood to listen. When he learned about Niall he threatened to keep my bairn in London and send me back to Glenmoor. I begged him to let me stay with my son and he agreed. That’s Niall you hear crying. ‘Tis time for his feeding.”

She turned to leave. He placed a restraining hand on her arm. “I cannot believe you’d lie to Sinjun about something like that without good reason. Would you care to tell me about it?”

Tears of gratitude filled Christy’s eyes. Embarrassed by the show of emotion, she buried her face in her hands and quietly sobbed. Rudy was beside her instantly, pulling her gently into his arms, soothing her as one would a hurt child.

“I wish Sinjun were as understanding,” she said on a trembling sigh. “He refused to listen to my explanation.”

“I’ll listen, Christy. May I call you Christy?” Christy nodded. “Whatever you tell me will remain between the two of us.”

“Isn’t this cozy. How long have you two been carrying on behind my back?”

Rudy’s arms fell away as he whirled to meet Sinjun’s hard glare. “Sinjun. You could have at least announced your presence.”

“In my own home? Not bloody likely. I suppose you have an explanation. What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about Christy.”

“Christy? Are you referring to Lady Derby?”

Furious, Christy stepped between the two men. “Stop it! Lord Blakely was concerned when he learned I’d vacated my house. You two are friends, you shouldn’t be arguing like this.”

“All I want is an explanation I can believe,” Sinjun said, setting her aside. “From Rudy,” he added meaningfully. “I’d be a fool to believe anything that came from your mouth.”

“Now see here, Sinjun,” Rudy said pugnaciously. “That’s no way to speak to your wife.”

“Did my
wife
tell you she lied about our child? I have a son, Rudy. And he’s very much alive.”

“She told me. She also said you were too hard-headed to listen to her explanation. May I make a suggestion?”

“No, you may not.”

“I’ll have my say anyway. Christy is unhappy.”

“How astute of you to realize that, though I cannot imagine why she should be.”

“Dammit, Sinjun, I’ve never known you to be so stubborn.”

“Tell me,” Sinjun said with a sneer. “Would you forgive a woman who has fed you a pack of lies? Keep out of this, Rudy, ‘tis none of your business. And keep away from Christy.”

“Sinjun, please listen, you’re accusing Lord Blakely falsely. You’re the only man I want.” God, she hadn’t meant to say that, it had just come out. She may as well have saved her breath. The determined set to Sinjun’s jaw gave mute testimony to his inflexibility.

Rudy picked up his hat and cane. “I’m sorry, Christy. Give Sinjun time, he’ll come around. I can tell you care about him. Should you need me, send word around to my townhouse.”

“Good-bye, Rudy,” Sinjun said without taking his eyes off Christy.

Sending Sinjun a disgusted look, Rudy strode from the room.

Christy started to leave but Sinjun stepped in front of her. “Are you so hungry for a man that you’d work your wiles on my friend?”

She glared at him. “Perhaps I was hungry for company,” she retorted. “Lord knows you haven’t said a word to me since…” She flushed and looked away.

“I was drunk,” Sinjun returned shortly. “I should have known better. I…” Whatever he was going to say was lost when Niall’s lusty cries echoed through the house.

“He’s hungry,” Christy explained.

“Go feed my son. He needs you,” Sinjun said, his expression softening.

Christy sailed past Sinjun, her narrow shoulders stiff. “Gladly. At least someone in this house needs me.

Her parting shot did not go unheeded by Sinjun. Nor had the intimate scene he’d interrupted between Christy and Rudy. Sinjun hated the notion that his best friend intended to cuckold him, but he’d been riddled by jealousy from the moment Pemburton had mentioned that Christy was alone in the back parlor with Lord Blakely. If Christy was trying to make him jealous, she was succeeding. She belonged to him, dammit! Whether or not he chose to resume an intimate relationship with her made no difference.

Sinjun strode slowly up the stairs to his chamber, his thoughts returning again and again to the intimate scene he’d walked into. As long as Christy resided in his household she had to follow his rules. Perhaps it was time to introduce his wife to society, he mused. He could think of no better way to let all his friends know that Christy belonged to him, that she was off limits to any man with seduction on his mind. He brightened. Aye, that’s exactly what he would do. Introduce his wife to society and make everyone aware that he wasn’t a lenient husband who overlooked his wife’s infidelities.

Sinjun heard the murmur of voices coming from the nursery and knew he’d find Christy inside. He pushed the door open and barged inside.

“My lord,” Effie said, moving protectively in front of Christy to shield her from Sinjun’s view. “As ye can see, yer bairn is feeding right now. Come back later.”

“Leave us, Effie, I wish to speak to my wife. In private,” he added, fixing her with a steely glare.

Effie stood her ground, until Christy gave an imperceptible nod. Then Effie scooted out the door, closing it softly behind her.