Addicted (44 page)

Lying down beside her, he brushed her damp hair away from
her forehead, her beauty, and his love for her nearly overwhelming him. An angel lying with the devil. He really was nothing but a beast when he raised her leg and let it drape over his thigh. He slid into her, slowly, gliding himself inside her pink quim. Holding her close, he rocked against her only occasionally, allowing her to sleep. He drifted off that way, too, buried deep inside her, their bodies pressed together, the last remnants of his mistress cloaking them.

Twin cravings, he reminded himself. Oblivion and passion. Stirring, Anais brushed against him, her lashes flickering until she was looking up at him. Her eyes were glazed, glassy with passion. He pressed forward, letting her feel his cock. His finger pressed in, filling the alluring bud between her plump buttocks. Her eyes went round as he matched the rhythm of his cock and finger. Taking her nipple into his mouth, he suckled her, building her up once more. He stroked her hard, filled her up with his finger. She arched and scratched her nails down his shoulders as she cried out in pleasure.

Beautiful fallen angel, he thought, watching her fall apart in his arms. Won’t you stay with me forever?

The sun shone in through the bank of windows. Lindsay winced at the brightness. Why had Vallery not closed the drapes this morning? Bloody hell, he tried to move, but his limbs felt like gelatine, and his head swam with the lingering effects of the opium.

Christ, the sunshine was doing nothing to help his physical misery. His head hurt and his fingers were shaking. He needed more opium.

“Vallery!” he roared for his valet. The stubborn man did not
come to his aid. Instead, Lindsay was left alone to fend for himself. Grumbling, he wiped his face and noticed how sated his body felt. He normally felt very relaxed after a night indulging in opium, but this satiation was something completely different.

He was naked, he realized as he looked down at his body and saw with surprise that he was fully erect this morning. His body was covered in sweat, and the scent of sex along with opium lingered on his skin. Bloody hell, what the devil had gone on last night?

His vision had at last cleared and he turned his head on the pillows only to see a mass of golden hair tangled beneath his arm. His mind blanked and he suddenly couldn’t seem to breathe. As he sat up, he noticed the woman was naked, too, her delightfully rounded bottom calling to his hand.

With shaking fingers, he reached out and touched the woman who lay so still beside him. “Oh, God,” he cried, suddenly moving—thinking.

“Anais!” Pulling her hair away from her face, he revealed her familiar features. “What have I done?” he asked over and over as he searched her body for any signs that he had hurt her. “Christ, what did I do to you?”

He couldn’t bear to think of it. Had that dream of her last night, the hours of lovemaking been real? How could it have happened? Had she been here the whole time, while he had been smoking?

The thought made him bilious. She had seen him at his absolute worst, and he had treated her as though she was one of the whores who worked at Tran’s den.

“Anais, open your eyes, angel,” he pleaded. He noticed how badly his fingers were trembling and wondered if it was the need for opium or fear that had made them shake so badly they were useless to him. She was still sound asleep, even though he cradled her shoulders in his arms. The smoke had made her this way. His habit had done this to her. He held her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. He lay with her, holding her, realizing the worst. Opium had at last won out over Anais.

28

“Why did you do it?”

Anais glanced over her shoulder at Lindsay, who was resting against the wall. He had not used opium since last night, and now, late in the afternoon, he was feeling the effects.

She wondered at his question. Did he want to know why she had made love with him last night, or did he wish to know why she had returned to his house when there had been such a sense of finality between them at the church?

Holding his gaze, she walked to him, dressed in only her chemise. Vallery had sent them in a tea tray with some sandwiches and biscuits. Anais had eaten, but Lindsay had not taken anything, not even a cup of tea.

She poured him a cup, held it out to him. He reached for it, but shackled her wrist, drawing her down so that he could take the cup from her hand and set it aside.

“Why, Anais?”

“Because I promised you to never let the bond that links us
come unchained. Because there are no more secrets between us, Lindsay. Nothing to hide from. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Did I hurt you? Your wrists are red where I held you. I was…rough. Inconsiderate.”

“No, you were passionate. I gave myself to you knowing the depths of your passion while acknowledging mine.”

“You shouldn’t have seen me that way—Christ—”

“Were your desires just the effect of opium, Lindsay,” she asked as she brushed his hair out of his eyes, “or were those true desires for me?”

His gaze lifted to hers. “Do you have to ask? Can you not tell, Anais?”

“That is why I came to you, Lindsay. Because I am drawn to you like a moth is to a flame. My passion for you was real and I knew your feelings were for me, because of what you truly feel, not because the opium rules you. You were so honest in your passion, Lindsay, and you needed it, to be with someone who cares. Someone who desires the man you are.”

He closed his eyes, his hand fisted against his bent knee. “I never, ever wanted you to see me like that. If I could, I would take it all back, even sacrifice those hours we spent loving each other, if I could just wash those memories of me out of your mind.”

“Don’t,” she pleaded, reaching for his hand. “Do not worry about me, Lindsay. Please—”

“I want to stop,” he blurted, “but I…I can’t,” he said, his voice catching. “I can’t stop. Even now, knowing you’ve seen me at my worst, knowing how ashamed it makes me feel, I still find myself looking at the tray, at the pipe. I’m craving it, Anais. Dying for it, that feel of the pipe in my mouth and the smoke in my lungs.”

The honesty he spoke with tore at her heart. When she had told Wallingford and Vallery to lock her in the conservatory with Lindsay, she thought she knew what she was dealing with. Now she wasn’t so certain.

“I need it,” he said through trembling lips. “It’s gone from my body and now I’m shivering and my nose is running,” he sniffed. “I no longer rule the opium, Anais. It rules me. I have to have it.”

“Then have it.”

He looked up at her, his eyes glowing with tears. “You have to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Lindsay. I promised you.”

“Why do this when there is nothing left?” he roared. Jumping up, he paced the width of the room like a caged animal. “Why make me quit when there is nothing to live for?”

“What do you mean? You have a full life ahead of you. A brilliant future in finances and parliament and bettering the country for those who are not as fortunate as us to be born into the aristocracy.”

“Why can’t you see,” he raged, “that the only thing I could possibly quit for is you?”

Silence hung heavy between them. “Do not stop for me. Quit for you, Lindsay.”

“I can’t. Not right now, Anais. I know I have no right to say this to you, not after what I’ve done, but the truth is, the only thing that could possibly bring me out of the darkness is a chance that at the end of the tunnel I might find you waiting there in the light.”

Anais cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “I will be there, Lindsay. I swear to you, I’ll be there, waiting.”

His bones felt as though they were trying to escape the confines of his skin. He was sweating, yawning, his skin was covered in goose bumps. And the cramps, Christ, his stomach was roiling, the pain a constant reminder of what he needed.

He was restless, his mind churning with the craving for opium.

“Tell me how it will happen,” Anais asked.

Lindsay closed his eyes as she threaded her fingers in his hair. He was lying with his head in her lap, trying to stave off the ever-increasing need for opium.

“It will peak in about three days,” he mumbled, trying not to think of the hell awaiting him. “It will not be pretty, Anais. I am regretting my selfish actions now. You should not be here.”

“Don’t be silly,” she whispered. “Why don’t you try to sleep, Lindsay?” she suggested as she rubbed his temples in soothing circles. “I will be here, whenever you need me.”

“I need you now,” he said, feeling another ache in his gut that brought tears to his eyes. “Yet I am afraid of what I might do. I have not been without the opium for many years, Anais. I…I don’t even know who I am without it.”

He reached for her hand and held it in his trembling one. She had bathed in the spring bath, in a soap scented with jasmine. Her skin was soft, fragrant, and he held her palm to his chest, holding her so tight he was certain her skin would be red. With his fingers, he traced the delicate veins of her hand, watching as her fingers laced with his.

“Can you endure this, Anais?” he asked, looking up at her. He was crying, silent tears that trickled down his cheeks. “Christ, can you stand to see me like this, pathetic and weak?”

She brushed the tears away, her strength never wavering as she held on to his hand. “I believe in you, Lindsay.”

He cried in earnest then. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he buried his face into her belly and cried like an infant. “I’m so sorry, Anais, that I am this sort of man. You deserve so much better, and to hold you hostage like this, to force you to stay, to make you promise—”

“Shh,” she whispered, rubbing his back. “I am not a hostage here.”

He looked up at her through the shimmering tears in his eyes. “I do not deserve you, but I know I cannot endure this without you.”

“Lindsay, you deserve so much more. In time you’ll realize that.”

He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t argue with her, either. He just lay there with his head in her lap, the feel of her fingers raking through his hair as he looked up at her. He tried to think of the future and couldn’t even begin to see that far. He saw only as far as the table beside the divan that had once housed his opium.

“I wish I could take back that night, Anais, when I used the hashish.”

She covered his mouth with her fingers. “I wish I could take back my rash decision to lie about going to France. But thinking that way will only eat us up inside.”

He nodded, looked away. They were silent a long while when Anais finally looked down at him and asked, “What are you thinking of?”

His gaze flickered to hers. “Truth?” She nodded. “Opium.” Her eyes saddened, even as he felt the resolve in her strengthen.
“I can’t speak false words to you, Anais. The opium, procuring, smoking it, being lost in its powers is never far from my mind. No matter how enticing the thought of you might be, it is never enough to completely drive away the craving.”

“I understand.”

He nodded, knowing she did understand. He was tired, his mind active with the need to smoke. She was rubbing his temples, and her belly cushioned him. He snuggled deeply into her and closed his eyes, trying to find the inner strength and conviction he had once possessed.

Then he drifted off, trying not to fear what would be lying in wait for him when he awoke.

Anais awoke in the dark to the sound of Lindsay pacing along the tile floor. He was breathing hard and swearing as he stopped to rifle through the drawers of the table.

“What have they done with the opium?” he growled, tossing the empty canister to the floor. It landed with a crack on the tiles. “Gone. All gone,” he growled.

“Lindsay, come back to bed.”

“Where is the goddamn opium?” He had all but roared that question. “Jesus Christ, you cannot expect me to just stop,” he panted. “Please,” he begged, coming to her, pulling her from the divan where they had slept. “It’s not safe, Anais, to just stop. I’m crawling out of my skin with wont for it.”

“It is the only way.”

“It’s not the only way,” he cried. He pushed her aside and started searching through the drawers once more. The delirium was setting in. It was far more frightening than Anais had
thought. What was even more alarming was the fact that she knew it was just the beginning.

“Let me out,” he commanded as he whirled on her. “Just for a few minutes. I need out, need air.”

“There is plenty of air in this room, Lindsay.” She went to light the candlewick so she could see him.

“Don’t.” His voice seemed disembodied in the darkness. “I don’t want you to see me like this…hungry, needy, feral,” he growled as he resumed his pacing. “Just…call for Vallery and let me out. I won’t be gone long. I swear it. I’ll come back.”

“Lindsay, you said you would try.”

“I will. Tomorrow. But tonight…tonight I need it, Anais. I…I can taper off. Come off it slowly. You can’t expect me to just stop like this, Anais. I’m going out of my damned mind! I need opium and I need it
now!
”

“If you walk away from this, Lindsay, you’ll lose everything.”

“Including you, I suppose,” he snapped as he threaded his hands through his hair and resumed his pacing. “Is that what you mean by that? You’ll walk away and never look back. So I am to choose,” he snarled, “which one I need most. You or opium.”

“Lindsay, if you let it win tonight, you’ll never conquer it.”

“I don’t want to conquer it,” he yelled, whirling on her. “Don’t you understand? I want it. I want it in my mouth, coursing through my blood.
I need it!
”

“I know it’s hard—”

“Hard? Christ, what the hell do you know about it? You’re not the one suffering through it. Oh, God, Anais, please. Don’t you understand? Don’t you know how much my body cries out for it?”

“I understand, Lindsay.”

“Then call for Vallery. Please. Call him.”

She nearly caved in when she heard the pain, the anguish in his voice. He was hurting, physically and emotionally, and she didn’t know how to help him.

“Anais?”

“No, Lindsay.”