Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) (36 page)

Silver squirmed wildly, her cheeks aflame. “They did! Every single one! You simply — took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But now you’re right where I want you. And a highwayman always takes advantage of his prize.”

He caught up a handful of lavender sprigs, his eyes burning.

Purple buds went raining across her heated skin. “And I have a pressing urge to taste your lavender.”

Silver’s breath caught as he bent toward her. His face was burned to deepest gold. His mouth was hard. His nose was proud, with a bit too much arrogance.

It was a warrior’s face. A brigand’s face.

The face of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and took it.

Right now Silver had the dizzy feeling that
she
was the only thing in the world that this highwayman wanted. If so, she had no more strength to deny him.

“Soft and fine, Sunbeam. Your taste is as sweet as your lavender.”

Silver made a breathless sound as his lips met the curve of her shoulder, then her rib, and then the lower swell of her breast.

He moved carefully, leisurely, tonguing every inch of her like the lazy connoisseur he was.

Her need grew to a fury. She was breathless in a second, wild in five, and clinging blindly at ten.

But he did not hurry. Smiling darkly, he broached the shadowed triangle at her thighs. He ignored her husky cry, sliding the fragrant petals back and forth across her hungry skin.

“No, Luc! That is, surely not there—”

And then her breath tore free. He found her, circled her, stroked her wetly. Ever deeper he swept, understanding her body better than she did, drawing the fire far inside her.

She cried out wildly. Overhead the starlit sky seemed to spin and sway. “Luc, I can’t—”

“You can, my love. And now you will. It is the highwayman’s command.” He laughed darkly, showing her that indeed she could, again and again, while his hard arms held her granite-safe inside the storm.

The world went dark. Light and form were sucked away like beach sand caught before a rising wave. And then the great tide struck.

Her back bowed. Her body tensed. Pleasure slammed through her, full and rich and heavy. She gave a breathy cry of wonder, flung into glinting currents, her nails digging at Luc’s shoulders. And as she did, Silver felt him drive his mark upon the curve of skin caught between his teeth and hungry tongue.

She exploded to a second crest of pleasure.

Luc laughed huskily, his hands slow and soothing as he watched her drift back to him.

When finally she could speak — when her body took on solid form once more — Silver’s eyes opened, all emerald and smoke in the aftermath of her passion.

She pushed to one shoulder, a faint grin on her beautiful mouth. “Is that perhaps a felon’s brand you’ve laid upon me, rogue?”

His eyes were wickedness itself. “A lover’s brand, more like. Do you dislike it greatly?”

For answer Silver pulled him down to her.

She couldn’t let the bloody man think that he knew
everything.

Her lips sought his. Skimming, tugging, she turned the highwayman’s own skills against him.

By the time she was done, he was iron jawed, white faced, the pain at his groin nigh to unbearable. “I rather think we may count your lessons complete, spitfire,” Luc growled.

“Not yet…” She bent her head. With her hair a russet veil, she nipped his neck and planted a love mark of her own against his bronzed skin. “There. How does it feel to wear
my
brand?”

The throbbing in Luc’s blood became a savage thunder. “Most arousing, my lady.” His hands slid lower, curved around her hips. He drew her closer, his hungry blade wedged against her silken curls. “And I’ll wear anything else you choose to offer me.”

Silver smiled, a thing of aching beauty. “Will you?” She twisted, fitting herself to the awesome length of him. “Even this?”

Her scent was rose and lavender and the fit was perfect — as close to heaven as Luc had ever thought to rise.

But he found out he was wrong when Silver brought him yet another inch inside her.

“Slow, my love,” Luc grated, his face taut with the effort to stay still. “You are very small, and I don’t want to hurt you this first time.”

Silver’s eyes widened. “You knew? But—”

“Of course I knew, Sunbeam. One touch of you, so tight and small, belied all your boasting.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Then why—”

Luc couldn’t bear another word. Not when she was hot and lush as honey against him. “Hush, beauty. No more talk, or not with words. Listen to me — with your body. Talk back to me just the same. Shout at me. Growl at me. Whisper hot and slow to me. Let me hear what all those sweet curves have to say.” His voice broke, hoarse with his effort at control. Every muscle throbbed, screaming at him to forget subtlety. To pin her down and impale her, fast and deep and fierce, then ride her to his own release.

But he didn’t.

Luc had waited far too long to rush through this moment. Were it possible, he’d make it last forever.

But waiting was definitely not going to be easy.

Especially when the woman was reckless, with wild, carnal ideas of her own. She pressed against him, taking him deeper.

“Damn it, Silver, you can’t. You shouldn’t.” Luc’s jaws locked as she sank another hot, velvet inch around him. “I don’t think I can bear it…”

He found out that he could, of course. Even though his breath was ragged and his body was sheened with sweat, he loved every second of her silken torment. She pressed against him, all warmth and light and life, a magical being sprung from his deepest dreams.

And when Luc felt a faint tremor snake through her, he smiled crookedly. Even if he could wait, he wasn’t sure that
she
could.

Her eyes were closed. Her pulse was racing. And she was struggling to bring him even closer.

But he couldn’t go any closer. Not yet. The fragile barrier lay stretched between them.

Luc eased his big hands around Silver’s hips, holding her still. “Listen to me. Sunbeam. I’m deep, as deep as I can go, love. Not without hurting you.”

Luc wasn’t sure she heard him. “Silver?”

Her hands dug into his shoulders. She twisted restlessly.

“Silver, listen. It’s not going to be the way you think it is.”

One eye opened. “Is that a promise — or a warning?”

“A bit of both, I think. And I’m sorry. I wish it weren’t.”

She shivered. Her body moved longingly against his, wanting all of him.

“Tell me now. Sunbeam. It won’t be easy, but I’ll stop. Now, if you want it. But not later. Oh, God, not later…”

She shuddered. “Now, Luc.” Her body whispered, teased, pleaded. Luc groaned as he read the meaning she was too lost to voice in words.

He eased from her, wishing he could make it different for her and knowing he couldn’t.

Fast. It had to be fast.

In one swift surge he laid her bare. Driving deep and hard, he pierced the fragile membrane of her maidenhood. He cursed as he felt her stiffen and though she would have squirmed away, he held her still, knowing movement would only add to her discomfort.

His fingers splayed open. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to move, to drive, to fill her deep and fast. But he waited, only held her, only let her come to accept the size and heat of him inside her.

Her eyes opened. She swallowed. “Blast you,” she said raggedly. “If it feels like
this,
why do you call it pleasure? And why were those women smiling like well-fed cats at that bloody house of assignation?”

He couldn’t hide a smile. “You’ll see, sweeting.”

“No, I won’t!” She squirmed, trying to push him away. “That
hurt!
And none of this makes
any
sense at all.”

Luc smiled lazily. “But it will make sense, my sweet. Because it won’t ever feel like that again. Not for you. And I’m going to prove it to you now.”

Silver pursed her lips, staring down at their locked bodies, clearly unconvinced.

At her measuring glance Luc felt his muscles leap and pulse inside her.

“Oh.” Silver’s voice was shocked. “How did you do that?”

“I really have little choice in the matter, temptress.
You
do that to me. You’re more potent than any witch’s brew.”

She frowned, her eyes dark with confusion. “Then — there’s more? It wasn’t over when you did — well,
that?”

Luc had to fight back a laugh. Or it might have been a groan. He was too far gone to know. He would never have a moment’s peace with Susannah St. Clair, but neither would he know a second of boredom.

He found he liked the idea. Immensely.

“Oh, there’s a great deal more. Shall I show you now?” As he spoke, Luc eased his fingers between them, teasing past the silken curls to find the hidden bud of nerves beneath.

She gasped.

“It starts here, my love. With this. And with this.” When he felt her open, Luc moved against her, fingers slow. His thighs tensed, sliding deeper as the tender skin parted to sheathe him.

And there was nothing between them this time. Only heat. Only skin like wet silk. Only endless, howling pleasure.

He was dying, he thought. Any second his heart would give way and he’d gasp out his last breath, in extremis.

But he had his heart back. He felt it beating; he knew its sure heat and steady hunger. She had done that, and truly, there was only one way he could reward her.

He moved again, much deeper. “No more protests?”

Silver’s cheeks were faintly flushed. “That was … rather nice.”

“Rather? Is that all you have to say? I wager you’ll like
this
even more.” He braced his arms and gave her his whole length, one long, perfect jolt of heat.

Her eyes widened, locked to his. “Most … encouraging,” she managed.

“I’m vastly thankful.” He eased back, smiling when she resisted, groaning when her woman’s muscles tensed to hold him still. “And I’m only too pleased to demonstrate how … thankful I can be.”

He did.

She urged him on.

It was heaven.

They reached out, clung and strained, there against the green grass. Breaths wild, they took and gave in matching measure, their bodies sheened with heat beneath the dancing wind.

An owl whooshed through the roses. The moon floated over swaying fields of lavender.

They never even noticed, heart to heart, passion-blind, love-lost.

Silver buried her fingers deep in Luc’s hair. “Take me, Luc,” she whispered. “Take me now. Take me fast and deep, anywhere you want to go.”

She offered him the shimmering depths of her soul then.

He offered her the mysteries of his, troubled dreams, dark deeds, and all.

She smiled and took all he had to give her.

Her face was innocent; her thighs moved with luscious, wanton abandon. The combination nearly killed him.

“Then so I shall, my heart,” Luc growled, pinning her to the damp earth, driving hard and deep and fast.

She rose against him, clenched him fiercely, their bodies stretched in a silken counterpoint of passion.

His forehead fell to hers. He shuddered when he heard her cry out his name and convulse around him. In that instant he drove inside her, deep, so deep, claiming her, needing her, filling her with his hot, potent seed.

She wrapped her legs around him, taking all, holding firm, her body convulsed in pleasure anew.

And her eyes, Luc could have sworn, flashed solid silver at the crest of her passion.

~ ~ ~

Down the hill Tinker threw his arm over Bram’s shoulders. “Told you she’d go up to him.”

“And I told you she wouldn’t come back down if she did.” Bram frowned suddenly. Beside him Cromwell gave an expectant bark. “But what are they
doing
up there, Tinker?”

The old man’s eyes seemed to narrow on the high fields. He smiled faintly, then spun Bram about and set out for the path to the cottage. “That’s quite enough questions for you tonight, boy. Off to bed with you. And take that great flea-bitten creature with you.”

Cromwell thumped his tail happily, hearing his name mentioned.

“Come along, Cromwell. No one seems to want us about.” Bram sighed, stroking the sheepdog’s head.

It was really most peculiar how adults behaved, snapping one minute and beaming the next. Perhaps this stuff of growing up was going to be more tricky than he’d thought.

“Why didn’t you say good-bye?”

They lay entwined, Silver’s hair an auburn cloud across Luc’s chest, her hands nestled in his.

“Because my wound was better.” Silver touched his face gently. “And you’d made it very clear that you wanted me gone.”

“It was the
last
thing I wanted, but there seemed no other choice,” Luc said grimly. “You know I have nothing to offer you, Sunbeam.”

“I need nothing more than this.” Silver traced the faint scar above Luc’s full, sensual lip. “You helped me save Lavender Close. What more could I ask of you?”

The scent of late spring was all around them, clinging to the growing flowers and newly turned earth as Silver pushed Luc down onto the soft grass.

He retaliated by planting tiny, heated kisses over her shoulders and neck until she wanted to scream with pleasure. But there were questions that had to be asked first. “Tell me about this man you were following, Luc.” She toyed with a strand of his hair, her eyes thoughtful.

Luc frowned. “Later.”

“
Now
.”

“First pistols, then rapiers, now orders. Very well, hellion, I shall tell you.” He stared down at her, his eyes hard. “I must find this man. I’ve tasted hell because of him. He sent me and countless others to Algiers without a shred of remorse and when I escaped, I vowed that he would send no others to such a fate. I must see this done, Silver. Otherwise it will always haunt me.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to betray a vow. At least now I can understand why you take such terrible risks. But where will you start?”

“By the old mill. I suspect it’s some sort of meeting place. Not that I know who is involved yet.” He cupped her cheek. “I have more reason than ever to find this man and see my task complete. When that’s done, I can finally start to live again. To breathe again. To think about having a future.”

Silver closed her eyes, knowing the awful danger before him. If he was caught, the penalty would be hanging.

Silver refused to let that happen.

But she didn’t tell Luc that, of course. She only slid closer and ran her hand along the faint scars along his back, smiling when she felt him shudder.

Now was for silent vows and forging impossible dreams. Now was for lovers who had stolen joy from the very jaws of fate.

“And what of you, Susannah St. Clair? Do you mean to tell me what put
this
here?” As he spoke, Luc stroked the white hair at Silver’s forehead.

“It happened when my father died.” She swallowed, needing to tell him some of what she had discovered. “Only, he didn’t die. He was murdered. Before his death he wrote in his journal that men were pursuing him, men evil enough to want him dead because he refused to help them. And I’m afraid they finally succeeded.”

“My sweet love,” Luc whispered, pressing his lips to the pale strands. “No more tears,” he said roughly. “Only joy, my heart.” Silver’s breath caught as he found her and claimed her, and her desire was as sharp as his when their bodies met. Tumbling over the soft grass, thigh to thigh, they kissed in reckless haste and swept to a breathless, searing release.

Even when they slept Luc held her close, locked against him, one hand molding her hip.

And while the moon sailed the Norfolk night and the roses danced amid ghostly banks of honeysuckle, a nightingale seemed to sing just for them.

~ ~ ~

“Where will you start?”

Overhead dawn was streaking the eastern sky. Silver lay with her head in Luc’s lap, while he sat against the ancient oak.

He deliberately chose to misunderstand her question. “I believe I’ll count the freckles here on your shoulder.”

Silver tugged on his hair. “Be serious, Luc.”

“I am. It’s no easy task in this half-light, I assure you.”

“Insufferable man!
Tell
me. I’ll worry far more if you don’t.”

Luc felt the now familiar heat begin to pound through him. His body hardened, desperate for her again even after the long hours he’d spent in her arms. “Very well,” he said, his eyes searching her worried face. “I won’t lie to you. There will be danger. And I’ll need documents to prove my suspicions.”

“But the risks…”

“You’re
my greatest risk, woman. First pistols and then rapiers. Whatever is proper English womanhood coming to?”

“I’m serious, Luc. Let me help. I can go where you can’t. I can—”

“Out of the question. I want you well away from this,” he growled. Then he told her briefly about the old mill and his belief that it had a hidden entrance. He had to find out its secrets.

Silver bit back a protest. She knew that on this point he would never bend.

“Never fear, my love. I’ll be back.” Luc traced the pale, moon-sheened outline of her hip. “Meanwhile, I have the very thing to keep your mind on happier subjects.”

She managed a smile. “Do you indeed, rogue? Or is this just more of a highwayman’s bravado?”

“For that remark you’ll pay, my beauty.” He caught her beneath him. His eyes aglint with gold, he tongued the satin of her belly. “Not bravado, my sweet. Just a warning. I’m bound for treasure tonight, and I’ll find it at all cost. No matter what obstacles lie before me,” he added darkly.

Her locked fingers lay in his path. He nudged them free, then made his way to his shadowed goal.

“Your eyes are most fascinating, my lady. Their color, changeable always, seems to suit your mood. At the moment of your passion they almost seem to go silver. Something,” he said hoarsely, “that I have had occasion to observe several times now.”

Silver flushed. “You needn’t remind me of my shameless behavior.”

“Not shameless, but entrancing. An impossible challenge. A man finds himself dreaming of all the ways he will put that flash of silver in your eyes again.”

And then he did just that.

Silver cried out as he found the heart of her and brought the sweet, fierce fire deep inside her. Her fingers clenched in the cool, dark grass and her toes burrowed into the rich, sweet earth.

While the fire still burned, while her heart still raced the heavens, he came to her with all his steel and need.

She didn’t think twice.

She didn’t look back.

She only caught him close, denying him nothing as she matched him in his fierce pleasure.

~ ~ ~

When the sun crept over the eastern hills, Luc finally pulled away and helped her dress. Even then his hands lingered on her gown, on her shawl, on her glowing cheeks and burnished hair.

But night was gone. The sun was up and prying eyes might be watching. It was no safe time for a highwayman to be abroad.

As she watched him go, Silver formed a reckless resolve.

~ ~ ~

“Bram, wake up!” Light was streaming through the cottage window as Silver shook the sleeping figure half burrowed beneath his blankets.

She would not change her mind. She could not let Luc take such reckless risks. She would have to save him. Men might talk of their vaunted honor, but what good was honor to a
dead
man?

And to the woman who loved him?

No, let the men talk of honor; it was the women who would keep the world running smoothly.

“Wake up, sleepyhead, we have work to do.”

A pair of emerald-green eyes peered owlishly from beneath the bedclothes. “Syl, is that you? Blast, it’s barely dawn.”

“Don’t I know it,” Silver said. For a moment there was a husky catch in her voice. “But we have work to do. Come, up with you. Aren’t you the one who is always telling me I’m too coldhearted to that highwayman you idolize?”

“You mean Blackwood?”

“None other.”

Young Brandon sat up abruptly. “He’s not taken, is he? Good Lord, Syl, the magistrate and his men haven’t run him to ground, have they?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Silver tossed her brother his boots. “But he will be, if we don’t help him. The man is too reckless by half.” But tenderness edged through her voice.

“I don’t understand.” Bram’s voice was muffled as he tugged on his clothes. “How are we to help him?” The boy’s head appeared from his shirt. “Are we to accompany him on a midnight foray upon the heath, armed to the teeth while we help him hold up a carriage? That would be capital fun!”

Silver shook her head, laughing. “It’s bloodthirsty you’ve become, Brandon St. Clair! Too much time spent around the highwayman and that dour servant of his. No, of course we’re not going to accompany Luc upon the heath. We have something far more important to do.” Silver’s eyes narrowed for a moment as she remembered Luc’s explanation of his aborted midnight search at the old mill. “He’s been looking for information, Bram, something about the man who was involved in his kidnapping five years ago. You and I are going to find that information for him,” Silver finished tersely.

Bram’s smile wavered. “Does Luc know about this?”

“Of course he doesn’t. That’s the whole point. If the man insists on traipsing from one end of Norfolk to the other, he’s
bound
to be captured.” Silver crossed her arms atop her chest. “Our job is to find the man and bring Luc the information he so desperately needs.”

Bram did not look quite so confident as Silver when he grabbed up his jacket and followed her out the door.

~ ~ ~

The old white mill was just where Luc had told Silver, beside the turning of the creek where it flowed south to Kingsdon Cross. The building was half covered by willows that skirted the stream. There appeared to be no sign of life at this early hour.

“That’s it?” Bram said, scoffing. “Looks like nothing but a silly old mill to me.” The boy shoved his glasses up on his nose, frowning at the path rising before the house, half hidden between steep hedgerows. It looked far too normal, far too mundane, for the swashbuckling scenario he had been imagining. “You must have got the location wrong, Syl.”

“No, that’s the place. See, there’s the elm tree cut in half by lightning just where Luc said it would be.” Silver gnawed at her lip for a moment, feeling a chill at her neck. “Luc told me he thought a traitor was using this place for a lair. He almost caught the man too.”

“What happened?”

Silver flushed, unwilling to tell Bram that Luc had failed because he’d been distracted — distracted by memories of
her.
“The man was too clever. He must have had a secret exit.”

“What’s our plan?” her brother said eagerly. “Maybe we should break down the door and drag the villain out. Or should we set fire to the place and smoke him out?”

Silver gave her brother’s hair a tug. “What a villain you’ve become! We do neither. We wait. And we watch both entrances. Our job is to find the man’s identity and discover any documents he might be carrying. Then as he’s leaving we shall simply divest him of those documents.”

“We will, will we?” Bram gave his sister an appreciative look. “And how are we to do that?”

Silver raised the hem of her riding skirt. Bram grinned down at the little pistol tucked inside her half boot. “Very persuasive, Syl. Which side shall I take?”

“The front, I think. I’ll watch the rear, overlooking the river. I suspect he might have a secret entrance there. If so, the fellow could try to make his way to a boat moored downstream.” Silver frowned. She wished they might have brought Tinker along to help, but she knew he never would have permitted the St. Clairs to face such danger.

So it was up to her to keep Bram safe.

Her brother, meanwhile, had nothing but delight for the plan. “Capital, Syl! We’ll manage perfectly by ourselves!”

~ ~ ~

The morning passed, but there was absolutely no sign of activity in the little white mill. Three boats made their way down the river and several riders crossed the narrow bridge to the south. About noon a farmer thundered by with a wagonful of corn bound for King’s Lynn, but there was still no sign of movement in the mill.