Heartless (19 page)

“It will only hurt for an instant,” he said. “I'll try to be as gentle as I can.”

She hadn't known it would hurt and unconsciously she stiffened. Then he started kissing her again. Outside the window, the storm crackled loudly. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Justin was equally relentless. He filled her mouth with his tongue, filled her heart with love, filled her mind with thoughts only of him. Then he pressed home.

Her sharp intake of breath was muffled by his kiss as he slid into her completely, impaling his hardness full-length. Ariel clung to him, trembling, trying to adjust to the strange sensation. Holding himself in check, Justin braced himself on his elbows above her, his concentration so fierce that beads of moisture broke out on his forehead.

“Are you all right?”

“I … yes. It wasn't … wasn't all that bad.”

Relief made his beautiful mouth curve up. He kissed her very slowly, very thoroughly; then he began to move. Ariel sucked in a breath at the pulsing sensations that began to pour through her. The rigid blade of his shaft slowly drove into her, filling her in a way that made shivers rush over her skin. Heat exploded inside her, burned like a wildfire through her blood. Ariel clutched his neck, her nails digging into the muscles across his shoulders, her body arching upward of its own accord. Harder, deeper, faster, the rhythm seductive, absorbing her mind and body, promising … promising …

Her body tensed, tightened around his hardened length. A jolt of heat roared through her, as white-hot as the lightning outside the window, and she shattered, bursting like the raindrops that splintered against the panes.

“Justin…!” Ariel clung to him with all her strength, afraid to let go, certain if she did she would be swept away. She felt his body stiffen, felt something hot and wet spilling in her womb. With a groan he slumped forward into her arms.

For long moments they lay there, listening to the sounds of the storm and the rhythmical beating of their hearts.

I was right to go to him,
she thought.
Nothing wrong could ever feel so perfect.

Justin softly kissed her. Easing himself away, he stretched out at her side and drew her into the circle of his arms. “I didn't hurt you too badly?”

Ariel smiled into the darkness. “I loved it.”

She saw the edges of his mouth curve up. “So did I.”

“As much as you imagined?”

“More. A thousand times more.”

She relaxed against the pillows, agreeing with him completely. She thought that they would sleep now, but lying beside him as she was, tucked beneath his shoulder and against his side, her hand resting lightly on his chest, she could feel his muscles expanding as he breathed, feel the slight indentation of his ribs. She traced a path there, outlined each one, and felt an inward ripple of the same tingly heat she had felt before.

“You're playing with fire, little girl.”

There was mischief in his voice, something she had never heard, and that small achievement thrilled her. She brazenly ringed his nipple with the tip of her finger. “Am I?”

Justin caught her wrist, dragged it down his stomach, and wrapped her fingers around his arousal, which was hard again and pulsing into her hand.

“Oh, my.”

She heard him chuckle and liked the sound. She began to test the size, discover the length, which was every bit as big and hard as it had felt when it was inside her.

“I warned you,” he said, his voice a little gruffer than before.

“So you did,” she said, but she didn't stop touching him. She was feeling that same hot restlessness she had felt when they were making love. Now she knew it meant she wanted to feel him inside her.

Ariel gasped as he came up over her, parted her legs with his knee, and slid himself in with a single smooth stroke. “You shouldn't have done that,” he teased. “Now you're going to get burned.” Lowering his head, he kissed her.

Ariel kissed him back and inwardly she smiled. Tomorrow would be her nineteenth birthday. As a child, she'd been taught to stay away from fire. Not tonight. Tonight, she wasn't going to mind getting burned.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

Tomorrow is my birthday. I shall be sixteen years old, though in some ways I feel much older. The other girls' parents send them gifts to celebrate, but if I were to choose, I would rather have a picnic, or perhaps take a lovely trip somewhere. I have always loved visiting new places, though I've rarely had the chance. I can hardly wait to see London. I just know that I shall love it. It must be quite wonderful indeed.

As Justin continued down the stairs, his mouth curved faintly at the memory of Ariel's letter. The date she referred to was October 27. He distinctly recalled the day, having made certain thereafter that she had received a gift on that day each year, a pretty blue fringed cashmere shawl the first year, a pair of expensive kid gloves the next. He couldn't take her on the outing she had wanted back then, but today he meant to remedy that situation.

The amusement he was feeling changed to something else as he thought of the night he had spent making love to her. She had been all that he had imagined and more, her innocent passion more alluring than the skills of the most practiced courtesan. They had made love twice during the night and again just before dawn. Afterward he had carried her sleeping form back to her bedchamber to protect her from embarrassment when the servants arrived in the morning.

Warmed by the memory, he reached the bottom of the stairs to see Knowles hurrying forward. The tall, bone-thin butler made a slight bow of his shiny bald head. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning, Knowles.”

“Your carriage is ready and waiting to depart for Cadamon, my lord, as per the instructions you left yesterday.”

“Yes, well, there has been a change of plans.”

“My lord?”

“I'll be traveling to Tunbridge Wells instead of Cadamon, and Miss Summers is going to accompany me.”

If Knowles was surprised he didn't show it. “Yes, my lord.”

“Have Miss Summers's maid pack a trunk for her. She'll need several evening gowns along with her other garments. And have one of the footmen bring down my traveling valise. He'll find it packed and sitting at the foot of my bed.” He didn't have a valet, had never gotten used to another man performing such intimate duties.

“As you wish, my lord.” Knowles hurried away on his scrawny bird legs, not the most attractive of butlers but certainly one of the most efficient. Justin made a mental note to give the man a raise on his return from Tunbridge Wells.

He headed into the breakfast parlor, his mind on the upcoming journey, sat down in his usual place at the head of the table, and motioned for the footman to pour him a cup of coffee. He was eager to see what Ariel thought of his plans. After what had happened between them last night, the notion of a trip out of London had descended upon him like a revelation from the gods. He wanted to spend time with her, wanted her to have a chance to get used to his lovemaking and accept the future he had planned for her.

Tunbridge Wells seemed exactly the place to begin. It was close to London yet far enough away that they could be private, and there were a number of entertaining things to do. Tunbridge had a number of fine restaurants, shops, and theaters, and there were lovely out-of-the-way cottages to rent. This time of year it wouldn't be difficult to find one.

The thought of being alone with Ariel, of making love to her without the restraint he had shown last night, made him go instantly hard. Sweet God, taking her three times hadn't begun to satisfy his appetite for her. He wanted to make love to her in a hundred different ways, and he wasn't sure even that would be enough.

Wishing he could simply return upstairs and climb back into bed with her, he gave up a sigh of resignation and contented himself with visions of the passion they would share in Tunbridge Wells.

*   *   *

Ariel stretched lazily beneath the sheets, winced at the stiffness in her muscles, the aches in places that had never ached before, and her eyes popped open. Frantically she glanced around the bedchamber, then relaxed when she discovered she was back in her own room and Justin was nowhere around.

Justin.
Dear God, it was impossible to believe she had gone to him last night, that she had asked him to make love to her. It was incredible to imagine the intimate things they had done. And yet she was glad it had happened. She wouldn't have missed those hours in his arms, in his bed, for anything in the world.

Not even if it meant an end to her dreams.

The notion made her uneasy. She buried the thought beneath sweet memories of Justin. Later she would think about the future. Not today.

She stretched again, covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. She glanced at the clock on the mantel, saw it was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning, and, with only a minor wince, swung her legs to the side of the bed. Hearing Silvie's familiar knock, she called for the girl to come in, hoping her little maid wouldn't notice her slightly kiss-swollen lips or the pink, roughened skin on the side of her neck left by Justin's late-night trace of beard.

“Good morning, miss.” Silvie bustled into the room with her usual hum of energy. “His lordship's asked me to pack you a trunk.” She smiled. “Apparently you'll be taking another trip.”

“A trip?” Ariel's head snapped up in surprise. “But where are we going?”

“His lordship didn't say. It's hardly likely he would tell his business to me.”

Ariel sat down on the slightly worn blue tapestry stool in front of the mirror and began to pull the brush through the tangles in her pale blond hair. Cadamon, of course. Justin was supposed to leave today. A slow, secret smile played over her lips that he had decided to take her along.

“Oh!” Silvie hurried toward her. “Bless me, I nearly forgot. A servant came to the back door this morning looking for you.” She dug into the pocket of her skirt and dragged out a folded piece of paper. “He left this message. Said no one was to get it but you.”

Ariel frowned at the expensive white stationery sealed with a drop of red wax. Then she smiled. Perhaps Kitt had returned. If ever Ariel needed to see her dearest friend it was now. Hurriedly she tore the message open.

It wasn't from Kitt, and reading the name scrawled in blue ink at the bottom of the page made her hand shake so badly she nearly dropped the paper.
Phillip.
Dear Lord in heaven, Phillip Marlin was the very last person she wanted to hear from. She began to scan the message:

My darling Ariel,

You cannot imagine how worried I have been. I pray that whoreson Greville has not harmed you in some way. I must see you. I must know for certain you are safe. There is a small hotel in Albermarle Street, the Quintain. Meet me in the café at three o'clock this afternoon. If you value our friendship, if you care for me at all, I beseech you not to disappoint me.

Yours ever faithfully,

Phillip

Ariel crumpled the message in her palm, grateful Justin hadn't seen it. As she thought of Phillip, a sliver of guilt ran through her. She had never meant to hurt him. She was actually a little surprised that she seemed so important to him. She had made no promises, never pledged herself to him in any way, though there was a time she'd believed that was exactly what she wanted.

Ariel sighed. She couldn't meet Phillip this afternoon—she would soon be leaving town—and yet it wasn't fair that he should worry.

It wasn't right that she continue to lead him on, to let him believe she still had feelings for him when she knew her own heart so clearly now and, in truth, felt nothing more for him than friendship.

“I'll need pen and paper, Silvie. I should like you to deliver my reply to the gentleman yourself. Make certain it gets directly to Mr. Marlin and no one else.”

“Yes, miss.” Silvie fetched the small portable writing desk from its place on a shelf in the armoire, and Ariel penned her reply. When she finished, she folded it, sealed it, and handed it to Silvie with instructions as to where Phillip lived.

“Wait until we've gone. Then see that it's properly delivered. And keep this to yourself. There is no reason to upset Lord Greville.”

“You needn't worry about me, miss,” Silvie said.

Ariel hoped not. She knew the way Justin felt about Phillip Marlin, though she didn't believe Phillip was as bad as Justin made him seem. It was merely the fierce animosity between the two men that colored Justin's perception of the man Phillip really was.

She wondered what had happened between the pair to create such a strong dislike. Perhaps on the journey she could convince Justin to tell her.

“Shall we braid your hair today, miss? It would probably hold up better on the trip.”

“Yes, thank you, that's a very good idea.” And so she sat fidgeting while Silvie plaited her hair, pinned it in a coronet on top of her head, then settled her plum silk bonnet in place and tied it beneath her chin. All the while, her mind kept returning to Justin and their passionate lovemaking last night.

In the mirror, spots of color appeared in her cheeks as she thought of him naked, his beautiful body moving over hers, his hardness buried deep inside her.

Knowing he meant for that to happen again tonight.

Then she thought of Phillip, thought of Justin's fury at the mention of his name, worried what might happen should the earl discover Phillip's continuing pursuit, and a niggling premonition of trouble began to gnaw at the back of her mind.

*   *   *

Justin lounged against the seat of the carriage, watching Ariel from beneath half-lowered lids. She frowned as the conveyance reached the outskirts of London and turned south instead of continuing northeast on the road to Cadamon.