Heartless (20 page)

“Isn't this the wrong direction? If I remember correctly, Cadamon is the opposite way.”

A corner of his mouth inched up. “We're going to Tunbridge Wells. It's a charming little town, very quiet, very pretty. I thought you might like to see it.” She looked lovely today, in a plum silk traveling dress trimmed with ecru lace. The color was high in her cheeks, and her lips still looked a little kiss-swollen. He had done that to her, he knew. And it was only the beginning.

She gave him a brilliant smile that made his body tighten and sent a rush of pressure to his groin.

“Oh, yes. I've read about Tunbridge. I should very much love to go there.”

“Happy birthday, Ariel.”

Surprise widened her china blue eyes. “This trip is my birthday present? I didn't think you knew when it was.”

“You didn't? You received the gifts I sent you. You thanked me in your letters.”

She flushed prettily, and her gaze swung away. “Yes, I did. But I thought you paid someone at the school to buy the presents in your name.”

Justin didn't answer. Of course she would think that. He had written no personal message, just left it up to the headmistress to tell her that they were from him. “So … how does it feel to be all of nineteen?”

She smiled. “Not much different than being eighteen, except for—” The color deepened in her cheeks and he knew she was thinking of last night. His arousal throbbed almost painfully. He thought of pulling the curtains and taking her there in the carriage, but this was all very new to her and perhaps a little frightening. He didn't want to scare her with the true extent of his passion.

“You're a woman now,” he said mildly, fighting images of her naked, of the newly awakened passion that he had so easily aroused. “I suppose that changes a number of things.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

“When we return, I shall find you a place of your own. A small town house not far from Brook Street. You'll be more comfortable there and we won't have to deal with gossiping servants.”

Ariel studied him from beneath her lashes. “I would rather we didn't discuss the future until our return, if you don't mind. Today is my birthday and I shouldn't like any sort of disagreement to spoil it.”

Disagreement? What could they possibly have to disagree about? She had come to him, made love to him as he had wanted for so long. Now it was time he made arrangements for her future. But he didn't say that. As Ariel had said, today was her birthday. Practical matters could wait until their return.

“How old are you, Justin?” Her question caught him off guard.

“Twenty-eight.” But there were times he felt the weight of a hundred years pressing down on him. “You look surprised. Did you imagine that I was older?”

“At times I did. But there were other times when I looked at you and thought you weren't much older than I.”

He scoffed at that. He had left his youth behind years ago … if he had ever had one.

“You look younger when you smile. Did you know that? You don't do it nearly enough.”

Justin didn't answer. What could he say? That he used to smile all the time, but it was so long ago he could scarcely remember?

“What makes you happy, Justin? What things give you joy?”

He frowned at the absurdity of the question. “I don't have time to worry about that sort of nonsense,” he grumbled, but it occurred to him that
she
brought him joy. Even now as he looked at her, wreathed in a beam of sunlight slanting in through the window, tendrils of silver-blond hair escaping from her bonnet, something sweet blossomed inside him. It warmed his cold heart, made him feel an odd, inexplicable yearning. For what he couldn't say. He had thought that once he'd had her, this yearning would go away. Instead, each time he looked at her, each time she smiled at him in that soft, sweet way, it seemed to light up the darkness inside him and the yearning grew more fierce. He wondered what would make it fade.

“When I was younger, I used to love storms,” she said. “I used to climb up on the roof of our cottage and watch the heavy black clouds rolling in. I loved to watch the lightning, to listen to the thunder rumbling all around me. It was dangerous, I know, and yet it drew me, that turbulence, that encroaching darkness. I wanted to reach up and touch those clouds, find out what they were made of.”

Perhaps she still did, he thought, thinking of his own personal darkness and the way she seemed able to reach inside him.

Ariel fell silent when he made no reply. Her attention turned to the window, and Justin was content just to watch her. The yearning rose up again, along with the aching lust for her that had become all too familiar since her arrival in London.

He wanted her, wanted to lose himself inside her. Wanted to feel that moment of brilliant burning sunlight that he had glimpsed before. It was a hunger that rarely left him. It rose now with maddening force, making him hard inside his breeches. As soon as he reached Tunbridge Wells, he would rent a cozy little cottage, carry Ariel off to bed, and make love to her until his body was sated with her warmth. Until the darkness was eased from his heart and, for a while at least, he felt the glow of sunshine coming from deep inside him.

It wouldn't last, of course. Nothing could erase his true nature for long. The darkness would find him, descend again like a monster from the deep, dragging him down, wrapping him in its shadowy tentacles.

It would happen again as it always did, but not now. For now there was Ariel and she was a beacon in the darkness. For a while, at least, he intended to bask in the warmth.

*   *   *

The journey passed swiftly. Justin worked to make polite conversation and even smiled on occasion, but beneath his casual demeanor Ariel couldn't miss the hot, seething hunger in his eyes. He didn't try to disguise it as perhaps he might have but allowed her to glimpse the powerful effect she had on him. Seeing his blatant desire for her, feeling his barely leashed restraint, made her stomach muscles tighten, set off a warm little trembling in her limbs.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached Tunbridge Wells, Justin's mood growing steadily darker, becoming an urgent restlessness that Ariel was feeling as well. He stopped at the office of one Harry Higginbottom, Estate Manager, whose name Justin had acquired in London, a man who handled the rental of properties in the area. Arrangements were made to rent a cottage that was actually a fairly large house with servants' quarters and a stable in the rear. It sat at the end of a tree-covered lane at the outskirts of town, the two-story structure enveloped by a curtain of ivy. It overlooked a lovely little meadow ringed by trees decked out in bright fall colors.

“It's charming,” Ariel said as he led her into the parquet-floored entry, then took her on a quick tour of the ground floor while the footmen carried their trunks upstairs. Though fashioned of stone, the house was nothing at all like the mansion in Brook Street. With its small, well-appointed parlors, colorful rugs, and dozens of sparkling mullioned windows, the house exuded warmth and charm.

They returned to the entry, Justin holding her hand. He glanced toward the curving staircase. “Shall we see what's up there?” There was a husky edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. When she looked up at him, she saw that his eyes had grown dark. There was heat there, and so much hunger that an answering warmth curled in her stomach.

“Upstairs? Yes, I … I think that's a very good notion.”

They hurried up the stairs to the second floor hand in hand, both of them laughing like playful children by the time they had reached the heavy wooden door that marked the master suite. She had never heard him laugh so freely. She wouldn't have believed the sound could be so rich and warm. They stared at the door and slowly, their laughter faded.

“Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”

Ariel wet her lips, her eyes clinging to his, unable to look away. “Why don't you show me?”

A muscle leaped in his cheek and his jaw flexed. Then he was lifting her up, opening the door, and striding in, kicking it closed with his foot. He set her on her feet, framed her face between his hands, and took her mouth in a ravenous kiss. It was deep and thorough, turning her stomach to liquid, sending a soft melting heat out through her limbs.

She wanted to touch him. She had to. With hands that suddenly trembled, Ariel shoved his jacket off his shoulders, dragged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches. His skin felt like soft, warm glass as her palms slid over the ridges of muscle across his back.

Justin worked the buttons at the back of her gown, and in minutes he had stripped her naked. His mouth found hers. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, and she opened to him, welcoming an even deeper kiss. He found her feminine softness, palmed it, stroked over the tiny nub in the middle. Ariel moaned and hurriedly began to unfasten the buttons closing the front of his breeches. He paused only long enough to tear away the balance of his clothes; then he carried her over to the bed, which was big and soft, and she sank into it beneath his weight.

“Ariel…” There was a note of reverence in his voice. His hands moved over her breasts—skillful, relentless, determined—wrenching a soft moan from her throat. He found the entrance to her passage, settled his hard length at her core, and drove himself deep inside.

A great shudder rippled through him and for a moment he went still.

Then slowly he started to move.

She whispered his name as he eased himself out and drove into her again, beginning to move faster, setting up a rhythm, making her own need soar. He gave her no quarter, just took what he wanted, and she discovered that she wanted it, too. Giving in to the deep, pounding force, she let the sensuous pleasure sweep over her, and in minutes she had reached her peak, swirls of sensation rushing over her in waves. Justin came with thundering urgency a few moments behind her, making her peak again.

Ariel clutched his neck as she spiraled down, smiling faintly, thinking how much she loved him. Knowing no matter how old she got, this would be the birthday she would always remember.

*   *   *

Tunbridge Wells, Ariel discovered, was a charming little resort set around the chalybeate springs that had been discovered there in 1609. Medicinal waters from the springs were sold in flasks to travelers, who came to the wells to escape the frantic bustle of London and enjoy the assembly rooms, elegant shops, and theaters that had been built around the wells.

Leaving the house after a night of exquisite lovemaking, Ariel accompanied Justin to town in his carriage. They luncheoned at a tiny restaurant that opened onto the tree-shaded Pantiles walk, then wandered among the shops and stores. They stopped for a while to listen to a concert in the park, then along the promenade watched a group of tumblers, tossing coins to a darling little monkey who scampered among the audience doffing his hat in thanks to the generous crowd.

As the afternoon wore on, Justin took her hand and led her into a shop that handled finely crafted jewelry. A small man, rather nondescript, wearing gold wire-rimmed spectacles beamed at them as they perused the expensive items in the glass case; then Justin asked to see a beautiful diamond-and-pearl necklace.

“Exquisite, isn't it?” the clerk said, handing the expensive jewelry over.

Justin merely smiled. Stepping behind her, he draped the fabulous necklace around her throat. “For your birthday,” he said, surprising her. She had thought they were merely having fun—it never occurred to her he actually meant to buy it for her.

He motioned toward the clerk, whose smile turned smug and knowing as he glanced down at her hand and saw no sign of a wedding ring. Ariel felt a tightening in her stomach, and the smile she had been wearing slowly faded. Justin seemed not to notice, simply continued the transaction, making ready to purchase the extravagant gift as if it were no more than a trinket.

Ariel looked up at him and nervously shook her head. “No, please, my lord, I couldn't possibly.…” Reaching behind her neck, she unfastened the diamond clasp, and the necklace dropped into her trembling hands. It was the sort of gift a man might purchase for his mistress, as the clerk had apparently guessed, and though they had made passionate love only hours ago, Ariel refused to think of herself that way.

“It's lovely—truly it is—but I…” She glanced from the clerk's smug face to Justin's questioning dark expression, her heart beating painfully, praying he wouldn't be offended. “It's kind of you, but I don't … I don't wish for you to buy me such a gift.” His gaze traveled past her, lit on the clerk, then returned to her colorless face. His eyes remained there, knowing eyes, eyes that held a wealth of understanding.

He didn't protest, just set the jewels back in the red velvet box on the counter and returned to studying the contents inside the glass case.

“I'd like to see that one if you please.” He pointed toward a simple gold locket, which the clerk far less excitedly handed over. It was oval, beautifully etched, and a single small diamond glittered in the center.

“Perhaps this is more to your liking.” He settled the locket around her throat and it felt cool and smooth against her skin. “Simple, yet as bright and sparkling as the lady who will wear it.”

Blinking back a sudden well of tears, she flashed him a heartfelt smile. Her trembling fingers lightly brushed the locket. “I adore it,” she said. “I shall treasure it always. Thank you, Justin.”

Something moved across his features. He took her gloved hand in his, turned it over, and pressed a kiss into the palm. Ariel felt that warm touch like wings against her heart.

“The afternoon is waning,” he said. “You must be getting tired. Perhaps we should return to the house.” The heat had returned to his eyes, and it was obvious what would happen when they got there.

Ariel smiled brightly, relaxed once more and definitely liking the notion. “That's a very good idea, my lord.”