Conspiring with a Rogue (43 page)

“
You wicked little vixen,” he teased. “You’ve forgotten your drawers.”

She blushed furiously and scampered onto the bed. “I didn’t forget,” she said, touching his bandage very lightly. Every time she thought of how he had risked his life for her, her heart clenched. “I had hoped we’d end up here, like this.”

“
And you thought to make things quicker?”

She nodded and reached for the sheet, but his hand stilled her motion. “I think we’ve been hiding long enough.” Drake threw the sheet back and crooked his finger at her. “Come to me.”

She crawled toward him, her hair tumbling forward over her breasts. When she was close, he reached out, grabbed her waist and effortlessly lifted her so she sat straddled across his lap, his hard length pressing at the entrance to her body. Her body pulsed and hummed, her despair of the unknown lending a sharp edge to her passion.

He delved his hands into her hair, his fingers tangling within the mass, and brought her face close to his.

His eyes glittered bronze with his own need. “I love you,” he whispered, staring so fiercely that for a second she thought to blurt the whole truth right then and there. Selfishly, she clenched her teeth on the urge. In case this was the last time he ever held her in his arms, she refused to risk this moment.

Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his. “I love you too. Madly, truly, thoroughly.” She kissed his earlobe. “I love you here.” She trailed hot kisses down his neck. “Here.” She licked a path across his chest, then raised up, took one of his hands and laid it on her breast while placing his other hand between their bodies. “I love you so much.”

She swallowed hard, wanting desperately for him to take her, yet horribly afraid that tonight would bring everlasting separation. Still, she would seize what she could. “Take me,” she whispered hoarsely.

Pushing her lower on his thighs, he delved his fingers into the curls between her legs. When he rubbed gently in little circular motions over her moistened center, she started to melt slowly from the inside out. “I’ll take you,” he promised thickly. “Over. And over. And over again.” Her pulse pounded with each gentle stroke of his deft fingers until her blood sizzled a course of fire through her veins.

She clutched his shoulders, grinding her hips into his hand, wanting him to plunge deep within her and join their bodies as one. He pulled her toward him and took her nipple inside his warm mouth. The friction of his tongue against the peak drove her wild until she ground her hips feverishly against his. No relenting came. Instead, he lavished slow, torturously sweet attention that grew and built until it matched the rapid pace of his fingers.

“
Please, Drake,” she nearly screamed.

“
Almost,” he promised, massaging, kneading, teasing until she thought she would die. When she was about to come undone, he grabbed her hips and surged deep within her only to withdraw in a slow delicious stroke to his tip. Her body clenched with need until he slid in slowly and found a rhythm that brought ripples of pleasure flowing within her, until she was sure her need would kill her.

Finally unable to withstand his pleasurable onslaught one second longer, she pulled him to her until he filled her completely. Her cry of pleasure surrounded her as her body arched forward to meet the final forceful thrust of his hips that pushed them, sweaty and panting, over the edge.

Her mind swirled, her eyes closed and a smile pulled at her lips. Exhausted, she fell against his chest and rested her head, listening to his heavy breathing and enjoying being joined with him. Each pulse of his body within her made her acutely aware this could be a new beginning for them or the end. His hand touched her hair, and he rubbed gently over her head, until his movements eventually stilled and his hand rested heavily on her back.

“
I’m in heaven,” she murmured, listening to the slowing beat of his heart and never wanting to move again.

His answering response was a grunt followed by a swift movement that left her on her side and held snug in the crook of his arm. “Well, my little angel, I’m exhausted,” he said, the evidence of his tiredness in the thickness of his words.

She snuggled close to him, feeling utterly safe in the cocoon of his strength and warmth. Lying as still as she could, she savored the rise and fall of his powerful chest. Eventually, his breathing became slow and deep. A peace she had not felt in ages filled her, and she lay content watching him in sleep, so unaware and peaceful.

His dark hair fell over his forehead and his lips curved in the barest hint of a smile. Pain washed through her at the thought of him possibly leaving her. When the room started to fill with the bright rays of the day to come, she forced herself to carefully roll away from him and creep out of bed. She dressed quickly and then padded across the floor to sit in the chair that faced his bed.

Sitting perfectly still, she memorized every detail of him that she could. Time passed, and bright light filled the room, warming it. Drake stirred in bed, and within a few minutes his eyes opened and his gaze found hers.

“
Why are you dressed?” A smile played at his lips.

God, she loved his smile. She pressed back against the soft cushion of the chair, her heart roaring in her ears. This was it. This could be the last time she ever saw Drake. Her throat constricted, but she swallowed and forced herself to speak. “There’s something terrible I must tell you, and when I’m done I fear you’ll want me to leave.”

“
Never.” He patted beside him on the bed. “Come here.”

She walked to the bed and sat beside him. His arm snaked around her and drew her into the heat of his solid embrace. “Tell me what you fear, and I’ll make it better. I swear it.”

His words opened up a place in her heart she hadn’t even known was locked. She wanted to place all her trust and hope in him, but she was so scared. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks. That would not do. She reached to swipe them away, but he brushed her hand back and ever so gently ran his thumb over her cheek. “Trust in me.”

She nodded, decided to leap and prayed fervently Drake would be there to catch her. “I left you because Mrs. Blightson threatened to financially destroy you by having her husband call in your note and make sure no other bank would loan you money.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed into two dark slits. “Go on.”

The thread of barely controlled rage in his voice made her shiver. Was the boiling anger toward her, Mrs. Blightson or both of them?

She broke out into a cold sweat but forced herself to continue. “I made a bargain with Mrs. Blightson. If I left you and everyone else I loved and promised never to return, she promised to leave you be.”

“
You little fool,” Drake bit out and rose quickly from the bed.

“
Drake.” She scrambled to her feet, ran to him and put a hand on his arm. He swiveled to her, his eyes burning bright.

“
Don’t.” The word was a hoarse plea.

All her fears crashed down around her, and she snatched her hand away. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“
You’re sorry?” Lines furrowed his brow as he shrugged into his shirt and trousers. “Jesus, Whitney. Sorry is not—”He paused and raked a hand through his hair. “I mean to say the last thing I want to hear you say is you’re sorry.”

Something inside of her withered and died. She reached blindly behind her and found a chair to collapse into. “I didn’t want to burden you,” she whispered, aware of how pitiful she sounded, but she didn’t care. “I tried to offer you money, but each time you rejected me.” If she could just make him understand why she’d done what she had.

“
Stop it.” He pressed his hands to his face and exhaled sharply. Dropping his hands, he stared at her. “I can’t believe what a fool I’ve been. I—that is to say, I mean you—”He exhaled a rush of air. “Stay here.”

Before she could utter a reply he slammed out the door.
Numbly, she sat unmoving. He’d left her. Loving her was too much of a burden after all. He’d not picked her, just like her mother hadn’t so long ago.

Whitney gripped at her seat. How could she make herself go? Her heart raced, her nails digging into the cushion of the chair. She’d made a vow to let him decide. He’d decided. Now she had to leave him in peace. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and concentrated on breathing. It seemed such a strenuous chore.
Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Her life did not make sense without Drake. How could she have ever thought it would?

Hardly able to breathe past his choking anger, Drake rummaged through his study drawer and found his pistol case. He set it on his desk and stared at it. Mrs. Blightson deserved to die. Not because of the threats she had levied against him―being threatened was nothing new for him and the life he led. People like her had never bothered him, but no one had ever dared to threaten Whitney to get at him.

He could picture shooting Mrs. Blightson in her black heart. God, how he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. That did not mean he was not going to make damn certain she thought he was going to. She deserved no less than that.

He retrieved a brass key from his top desk drawer, withdrew a heavy oak box from the left side of the desk and unlocked it. The lid creaked as he opened it. His future lay in this box―a future he had thought lost. He had always assumed the pain of his childhood would be the worst he would ever feel, but he had been wrong. Whitney’s words had come like stinging blows to his body. She thought she was a burden to her family and to him.
Foolish woman
.

How could she blame herself? The blame lay at his feet with his irrational need to never accept help from anyone. His fear had driven her to leave without telling him of the threats, without turning to him for protection and love.

He raked his hand through his hair. All the months, the pain for them both.

Memories of conversations flooded his mind. Whitney had offered to help him financially, and he had refused her offer each and every time because he was afraid. He was so damned set on proving his worth, proving he was not a beggar like his father. What had he proven? Drake slammed his fists down on the desk, the pens on it rattling in protest. All he had proven was that he was a damn fool.

He wasn’t sure he could make up for what he had done. Doubt seized him as he grabbed the black velvet bag and exited his study. He raced out the door and down the hall, almost slamming into Whitney as he turned the corner. Tears rolled down her face, causing his heart to jerk in answer. Without hesitation, he reached for her, delved his hands deep into her silken hair and kissed her.

Half conscious of the primal urges provoking him, he moved his lips down her throat, rubbed his mouth over her hot skin until he found the valley of her breasts, where he inhaled her scent.

Her muffled sob caused a wave of fresh pain to tear through him. Taking hold of his passion and need, he straightened up and stared into her glittering amber eyes. He grasped her hand in his. “I’ve something for you.”

“
You do?” She looked so damn helpless and vulnerable. Had she thought he had left her? He dug in the velvet bag and held up the betrothal ring he had given her so many months ago.

“
This belongs to you.” He slipped the emerald and diamond ring on her finger and kissed her creamy skin. “If you ever take it off again, I’ll wring your pretty little neck.”

Whitney stared at her hand, too dazed to speak. Finally she inhaled a shaky breath, but her heart continued to pound so violently she thought it might burst from her chest. “Are you—I mean to say that is, do you—” Drat it all, her fear was stealing her ability to form a coherent sentence. “Do you still want me?” The question took all her will and left her feeling sick.