Andrea Kane (40 page)

“I am going to enjoy every moment of this,” he muttered, releasing one button at a time, his fingers unsteady from the large amount of alcohol he had consumed. “You have quite a body, my dear Alexandria.”

There was no escape. Alex froze as Sebastian’s swollen manhood sprang free, lurching toward her cringing flesh. The paralyzing realization of what was to come exploded through Alex like gunfire.

Sebastian was going to rape her … now.

The shrill, heartrending scream began deep inside her and split the eerie silence, vibrating through every corner of the room.

“Shut up,” Sebastian hissed, crushing her face with his hand. Alex felt as if her jaw might snap.

“Drake will kill you for this, Sebastian,” she choked out, fighting to keep back the tears.

He lowered himself to her, his words muffled by her hair. “You have that backwards, my fiery duchess. It is I who will kill—”

The end of Sebastian’s sentence was lost in a crash that exploded through the room, followed by a bloodcurdling roar of anger.

“Sebastian, you filthy bastard, get the hell off my wife!”

D
RAKE CROSSED THE ROOM
in three strides, tore Sebastian off Alex, and flung him against the wall. Sebastian crumpled and sank to the floor.

Alex cried out Drake’s name, gathering herself into a small protective ball, her eyes wide with shock and horror.

Drake was shaking with the fierce primal rage of a wild animal, the sound of Alex’s scream still echoing inside him. Every muscle in his body was taut, sweat gleaming on his face, as he crossed the room and yanked his unsteady brother to his feet.

“You miserable son of a bitch!” Drake slammed his fist into Sebastian’s jaw, sending him back to the floor with the impact. It was still not enough. Drake fell upon Sebastian, blinded to anything but the explosive need to kill. His hands closed around Sebastian’s throat.

But Sebastian had recovered sufficiently to defend himself. Using the full weight of his body, he rolled Drake off him, then sent his fist into his brother’s stomach.

Drake groaned, doubling up in pain, but refused to release his death grip on Sebastian’s throat. Panting, Drake rolled Sebastian beneath him and, holding him down with one hand, delivered blow after blow to Sebastian’s face.

Blood spurted from Sebastian’s lips and nose, but all Drake could see was the red haze of anger that clouded his vision—a vision of Sebastian raping Alexandria. He wanted his brother dead.

Alex’s voice broke through his frenzy.

“Drake, that’s enough! Don’t kill him! He’s not worth it!”

Still holding Sebastian by the throat, Drake turned his head slowly, really seeing Alex for the first time. She was naked, with only the sheet wrapped around her, her small body trembling, her eyes wide with terror. She swallowed convulsively, clutching the sheet that sheltered her from Sebastian’s hateful touch.

“Please …” she begged in a pathetic voice.

Drake turned back to look at Sebastian. His brother’s eyes were glazed from too much brandy, his entire face splattered with blood. He was a useless excuse for a human being, and his very presence sickened Drake.

“I want you out of my sight, you worthless bastard.” Drake lifted his brother by the throat, crossed the room, and kicked open the door. With a feral growl he tossed Sebastian into the hall. Several frightened, gaping servants, awakened by Alex’s scream, stood gathered in the hallway as Sebastian landed in a boneless heap.

“Take this slime away!” Drake ordered the stunned footmen, his emerald eyes ablaze. “I don’t give a damn what you do with him; just remove him at once!” He looked down at Sebastian. “If you
ever
so much as
look
at my wife again I will kill you with no questions asked.”

He strode back into the bedchamber, slammed the door, and turned to his wife.

Alex stared at Drake, white-faced, her body still shaking uncontrollably. She was at her breaking point, but at the same time, she was very much aware of the importance of this moment. Would Drake believe she was innocent or would he again believe the worst of her and assume that she had seduced Sebastian?

She waited.

Drake crossed the room and sat down on the bed, gathering Alex’s quaking body in his strong arms.

“It’s all right now, princess,” he murmured softly, kissing her hair and tucking her head beneath his chin. “I’m with you, and I swear that he will never come near you again.”

He paused, needing to ask … dreading the answer. “Did he hurt you, sweetheart?” he questioned at last, his voice raw. “Did he …” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

Alex shook her head against his chest. “No,” she whispered in a tiny voice. “You got here just in time.”

“Thank God,” Drake breathed. He rocked her gently in his arms, unwilling to think of what might have happened if he had arrived one moment later. The thought of Sebastian violating his beautiful, precious Alex made his guts twist.

Alex pressed her face against Drake’s shirt. “Please hold me. Just hold me. Make his horrible touch go away. Please,” she begged, burrowing deeper into Drake’s embrace.

“I’ve got you, love.” He tightened his arms fiercely around her, giving her his strength. “The only touch you will ever know will be mine.” His hoarse, protective vow seeped into Alex’s cold body.

And suddenly Drake’s words, the joy of being safe in his arms, was more than Alex could bear. Succumbing at last to the tears that she had held in check until now, she gasped, “Drake, oh, Drake, thank God …” Her words were incoherent, her body racked with sobs that gave way to a torrent of tears, which spilled down her cheeks, drenching Drake’s shirt.

Drake felt Alex’s pain as his own, felt her tears wash the past away.

“Please, sweetheart,” he implored her softly, “don’t cry anymore. I can bear anything but your tears. Please, princess … no one, nothing, will ever hurt us again. I promise.”

At Drake’s fervent vow Alex leaned back to look up into his anguished face.

“I did not encourage Sebastian,” she stated simply, watching Drake’s reaction. “I fought him off as best I could.”

Drake cupped her face in his hands, stroking the tears from her wet cheeks with his thumbs, his heart expanding with a feeling that he no longer wished to dispel. Smitty was wrong. He
had
been a bastard—a bastard
and
a damned fool.

He gazed tenderly down at his wife’s beloved face, her tear-filled eyes looking more than ever like the wondrous waves of the sea, her rare innocence shining so clearly that it could only escape a man who refused to see its splendor.

And she loved him. It was there in her eyes as they awaited his reply, in her lips as they trembled with hope, in her body as it melded to his in a need and an instinctive trust that told Drake all he needed to know.

Lord, how he loved her.

“You bore the brunt of my brother’s sickness … and my own stupidity,” he told her in a humble, reverent tone. “Can you ever forgive me?”

The tears flowed anew down Alex’s cheeks, but this time they were tears of joy.

“Oh, Drake, don’t you know that I forgave you long ago?” she whispered, reaching up to touch his lips. “I just need to know that you believe me … that you trust me—” Her voice broke.

Drake kissed her fingertips one by one, then pressed her palm to his mouth. “I believe you,” he told her, his breathing ragged. He drew her into his arms, lowering them both to the bed. “I trust you,” he whispered against her mouth. He gazed solemnly into her exquisite face. “I love you.”

Alex blinked, afraid to believe her ears. “You love me … ?” she repeated, in a soft, hopeful voice.

“With all of my being,” he answered, his own voice rough with emotion.

Alex sagged against his powerful body, feeling weak with joy and relief. But it was not over yet. Not until they had talked—about the misunderstandings of the past few days
and
of the past few months. “There is so much I need to tell you, so much you must understand.”

“I know, princess, I know.” He kissed her cheeks, her chin, her soft mouth. “And I will listen to everything you have to say, tell you all that you need to know … later tonight. Right now I need to hold you; to convince myself that you are really here, unharmed, in my arms. Can you understand that?”

Alex gazed up at him with all the love in her heart. “Yes,” she breathed, sliding her fingers into his thick hair. “Because I need that, too.” She tugged his head down to hers. “I need you to take the ugliness of the night and make it disappear beneath your touch. I need you to tell me over and over that you love me. I need you to show me how much.” She brushed her lips against his. “Will you do that … please, Drake?”

He enfolded her against his heart, covering her mouth with his in a tender, passionate kiss that claimed her totally, body and soul. “I love you,” he murmured, sliding the sheet out from between them, shrugging out of his own clothes with determined, hurried movements. “I love you,” he reiterated reverently, melding their naked bodies together. “I love you.” He breathed the words, feeling the familiar sensual magic storm his senses. Familiar, yet so much stronger, so much richer because of the bond that had been forged between them.

Drake rolled Alex onto her back, gliding his hands up and down her bare arms, pausing to intertwine their fingers.

“You are mine,” he told her in a husky whisper.

Alex felt treasured, warmed by the emerald fire that glowed in Drake’s eyes. “And you are mine,” she replied.

Soberly Drake nodded. “Gladly and forever.” He bent his head to kiss her throat. “Tell me that you love me,” he demanded against the scented hollow.

Alex smiled, giddy with pleasure. “I love you, Captain Drake Robert Barrett, the Duke of Allonshire, the Marquis of Cairnham, the Earl of Laneswood, Earl of Ravleton, Viscount Manvell, and Baron Winsborough. I love you.”

Drake raised his head and, in the light cast by the bedside lamp, Alex saw the laughter on his face. “You are still the most outspoken of women, princess,” he told her tenderly, nibbling on her chin.

“A tyrant, I believe you said,” Alex reminded him, wrapping her arms around his broad back.

He kissed her again, a long, slow exploration of her mouth that left them both breathless, wanting more.

“There are compensations to being married to a tyrant,” he managed, sliding his fingers through the tumbled waves of her hair.

“Mmm,” she agreed, licking lightly at his mouth. “Just as there are compensations to being married to a man who is two different men.”

Drake grew serious. “Just one man, sweetheart. One man who adores you and always will.”

There were no more words as he covered her body with his, blanketed her in his love. He savored the taste of her, touching every inch of her skin with light caresses of his open mouth. Alex sighed, sensual pleasure coursing through her in great, surging waves. Every place Drake’s mouth touched tingled with pleasure, ached for more.

He was more than happy to oblige the silent urgings of Alex’s body. He ran his hands along the perfect contours of her hips and waist, finally cupping her full breasts in his trembling hands.

“Ah, Alex … what you do to me,” he breathed against her mouth. Lightly he stroked her nipples with his thumbs, feeling the breath catch in her throat. He followed his hands with his mouth, circling, tasting, teasing the hardened peaks until Alex moaned, tossing her head from side to side. Drake slid down her body, defining it with his mouth, watching the flickering light cast its golden glow upon his naked goddess. It had been so long since he had made love to her in the light … so long, for until now, he had been afraid of what he would see in her eyes. But no longer.

Down, farther down the bed he moved, lost in the wonder that was Alex.

He reached the slight swell of her abdomen and froze, staring down at the obvious physical change in her body.

Alex felt Drake tense and raised her head to meet his stunned gaze.

“Alex?” He searched her face for the answer to his unspoken question.

Alex smiled, knowing that there could not be a more perfect time to tell him.

“I’m carrying our child,” she whispered, her face radiant with joy.

For a moment Drake just stared at her in utter disbelief. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze back down to the absolute proof of Alex’s words. A baby. Alex was going to have his baby.

He rose to his knees at the foot of the bed, his gaze greedily raking her body for every telltale sign of pregnancy, signs that the darkness had obscured from his view. Transfixed, he stared from the swell of her stomach up to the ripe opulence of her breasts, the darkening color of the nipples that were still wet and taut from his mouth. Alex lay still, watching Drake learn of his child in the most beautiful way possible.

When he once again met Alex’s gaze, Drake’s eyes were damp with emotion. He lifted a shaking hand to stroke Alex’s smooth cheek, lowering himself carefully beside her on the bed.

“When did it happen?” he asked in a raw voice.

Alex smiled, moving into his arms. “Probably on the island. In any case, not long after we were married.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since the afternoon of the ball. I was going to tell you that night, but …” her voice trailed off.

Drake’s features twisted in pain. “But I nearly raped you because of my stupid, destructive jealousy.” He ran his hand caressingly over Alex’s body, pausing where his child was nestled safely within her womb. “Love, I’m so sorry. The thought of hurting you or our baby …” He raised wondering eyes to hers. “Our baby,” he repeated, cupping her belly possessively.

Alex moved closer, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Our baby,” she murmured in agreement. “And you didn’t hurt me, Drake. You’ve never hurt me … not physically, at least.”

“I’ll never hurt you, in
any
way, again,” he vowed, sealing his promise with a tender kiss. He hesitated as Alex pressed her lush, desirable body against his. “Alex, is it all right?” he questioned her anxiously. “The baby—”

“… will be delighted to learn how very much his parents love each other,” Alex finished, running her hands along the muscled planes of Drake’s back.