Nicole Jordan (32 page)

“Thank you, Mrs. Leale, but I am not at all hungry.”

“I can only imagine, after your ordeal,” the housekeeper said kindly. “What you need is rest. I’ve laid a flannel nightdress of mine on the bed for you to wear. The size should fit, although I’m sure the quality is not what you’re accustomed to.”

“What I need is to borrow a gown and cloak to go home—”

“Lord Thorne informed me you would be staying the night.”

Just then Thorne himself knocked and entered the room, followed by another maid carrying a tray laden with covered dishes, which she set on the small table in the sitting area before the hearth.

When he abruptly dismissed his female servants, Diana noted his high-handedness but waited until the door had shut before protesting. “I shouldn’t stay the night at your house, Thorne. It would provide too much fodder for scandal.”

“I don’t give a damn what the gossips say,” he retorted mildly, removing the covers from the dishes. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I can ensure your safety. And you need to rest. My servants are completely discreet, I promise you.”

After turning out the final lamp to leave the room cloaked only in firelight, he gestured at the two armchairs flanking the table. “Now, come and eat. We both need sustenance. Too much brandy on an empty stomach can confound your senses.”

She did feel woozy, whether from the spirits she’d consumed or the nerve-racking tension of the past two hours, Diana couldn’t say. Either way, she was too weary to argue with Thorne about propriety just now. More crucially, she didn’t think she could bear to be alone tonight.

Keeping the quilt wrapped around her, she crossed the room and sat in one of the chairs, waiting while Thorne settled in the other. After a moment he handed her a plate of succulent roasted chicken, tiny new potatoes in cream sauce, and fruit compote spiced with cinnamon. There was wine for her, too, but Thorne poured himself another brandy.

Diana was hungrier than she had thought, and the meal was delicious, yet she mostly picked at her food. Her thoughts kept straying back to the shooting, the wild ride in the coach, and Thorne’s desperate gamble to save them. He could so easily have been killed, trampled beneath the galloping hooves and crushed by the carriage wheels. Or shot. The ball that had been deliberately fired at his head had barely missed him.

“It wasn’t simple robbery, was it?” she said finally into the silence. “They tried to kill us.”

It was the question Thorne had been expecting—and the main reason he had joined Diana for a quiet supper. He suspected her nerves would need soothing after the traumatic events she’d suffered. She doubtless had never been exposed to such danger in her life, and now that it was over, he knew the shock would set in.

He also knew she needed to regain her sense of safety and security, or the suspense and fear would fester inside her like a putrid wound.

As for her question about the holdup, he’d debated for the past half hour what answer he would give her. He was certain the attack hadn’t been motivated by robbery. His town coach was well known and provided no anonymity with his crest emblazoned on the door panel. And the highwaymen hadn’t demanded money or jewels before they began firing.

What particularly galled Thorne was that he’d been caught unprepared and failed to anticipate their murderous actions. Yet he tried to keep the fury out of his voice as he answered Diana. “No, in all likelihood robbery was not their intent.”

“So someone tried to…murder us?”

“Me, love. You were not the target. I was.”

Diana searched his face for a long moment. “You said Venus may have killed Nathaniel. Do you suspect her of seeking your death, as well?”

She had leapt to the same conclusion he had, and there was no use denying it. Diana was no fool, and would certainly see through any reassuring lies he tried to offer. Besides, she deserved some measure of honesty, and the truth would serve him better in this instance. At least a partial truth.

“I think Venus may hold a grudge against certain members of the Foreign Office, over something that happened many years ago. We’re continuing to investigate, but at the moment, her desire for revenge seems the most feasible explanation for why Nathaniel was killed. Venus may wish me dead for the same reason. Regardless, I want you to have nothing more to do with her. Now that her portrait sittings are over, I don’t want you to see her ever again.”

Diana nodded slowly, concern still darkening her eyes. “But what about you? What will prevent her from attempting to kill you a second time?”

Let her just try,
Thorne thought darkly. He needed proof that Venus had been behind the assault before he acted, but he would get it, even if he had to resort to violence with her. He would have no qualms about locking Venus away in chains if necessary and forcing the truth from her with his bare hands. She had threatened him and his, and he wasn’t going to stand for it.

To Diana, however, Thorne offered a reassuring smile. “I will take better precautions from now on, of course. And I’ll find some means of forcing Venus to show her hand. When she dares make her next attempt, I plan to gain the evidence to expose her.”

“But that seems so dangerous,” Diana said in dismay. “Is there nothing you can do now to stop her?”

Thorne nodded. “Venus employs two bruisers who might have been our highwaymen. I’ll have them watched carefully now. And I mean to install armed footmen and grooms in your house and that of my aunt’s. You’ll go nowhere without protection, do you understand me?”

Diana’s chin rose at his commanding tone. “Yes, if you promise me that you’ll afford yourself the same protection.”

“You may be sure I will,” he said chiefly to ease her mind.

He wasn’t worried about himself. He had no real fear at being a killer’s target. The thrill of danger had always excited him, giving him a heady rush that told him he was alive. He had skated close to danger’s edge countless times, and never had any regrets before now.

But this time he had made Diana a potential target, as well as himself. It filled him with guilt and dread to realize he had risked her life today, not just his own.

Thorne shuddered at the memory of how close that bullet had come to her head. The incident had succeeded in rousing his protective instincts to a fever pitch. He would keep her safe if it took his last breath.

Now, however, what he wanted most was to hold her. Yet he didn’t dare touch her, for fear of losing control.

Involuntarily his gaze traveled over Diana where she sat. She looked so pale and vulnerable and achingly beautiful, with the firelight caressing her face, glinting off the wild tendrils that wisped around her face. The quilt had slipped a little from around her shoulders, allowing him to catch sight of the fresh white bandage and the bloodstained strap of her chemise.

A renewed surge of anger flooded Thorne, while his jaw tightened. “You needn’t worry about me,” he said more grimly than he intended.

Swiftly draining the last of his brandy, he set down the glass and stood. “You should get some sleep.”

At his abrupt and unexpected action, Diana felt a sudden stab of panic. She couldn’t bear for him to leave her.

Quickly setting down her plate, she reached out a hand to him. “Thorne, please…don’t go just yet.”

His jaw hardened even more, if that was possible. He looked supremely dangerous at this moment, with his expression so dark and brooding.

He was capable of violence, she had no doubt; she had met few men more formidable than Thorne. Yet she also sensed his fierce need to keep her safe. Thorne was a protector at heart. He had proved that unquestionably a few short hours ago.

She owed him an immense debt of gratitude, Diana knew. He had saved her life. Yet she was even more grateful that he’d emerged safely. She’d seen most of his valiant endeavors from the coach window, watching desperately as Thorne struggled to stop the panicked team. Fear had risen up to choke her, but it was fear for him, not for herself.

Thorne himself had been fearless, risking injury and even death without hesitation—while even now she was still shaking with the memory and with the sudden realization of how precious life was.

The quilt dropped to the floor as Diana rose, trembling, and slowly moved toward him.

She heard him draw a sharp breath, but she wavered only a moment. Reaching up, she wrapped her uninjured arm around his strong neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “I was so afraid for you,” she whispered.

He gave a harsh laugh and held himself stiffly in her embrace, as if tightly leashing his emotions. When she raised her face to his, his breath fanned warm against her mouth. “Diana…I can’t trust myself if I stay.”

“I don’t care. I want you to stay.”

He was fighting himself, she could tell. He refused to accept her kiss—yet against his will, he tilted her head back, baring the vulnerable arch of her throat, and pressed his lips there. His hot mouth raised chills wherever it touched, at the same time his hands braced against her waist, as if he intended to set her away from him.

“Thorne, make love to me…” Diana entreated.

Thorne filled his lungs with an uneven breath as his entire body reacted to her quiet plea. The need that had gripped him in its talons for weeks now tightened its hold ruthlessly, bursting the bonds of what little self-control he had left.

He didn’t even remember moving, but the next moment his arms were wrapped tightly around her body and he was kissing her fiercely, slanting his mouth hard over hers, thrusting his tongue deep to meet hers, making her feel his urgent desire. He was on fire, aching with the need to be inside her, with the sheer, overpowering need to mate, to be one with her.

And she responded just as wildly, making soft, pleading sounds as her fingers clutched his hair to draw him even closer.

Their mouths still fused together, he tugged the pins from her dark tresses, so that the silken mass tumbled freely around her shoulders. Still kissing her, Thorne forced himself to slow his urgency long enough to lift Diana in his arms and carry her to the bed. Laying her down, he pulled off her slippers and stockings. Then taking care with her injured shoulder, he drew her chemise over her head to bare her naked beauty to his gaze.

The sight of her kindled a tender ache in his chest, while his body had already hardened with desire. Swiftly, he tore off his own clothes and joined her on the bed.

The simple contact of their heated flesh had a stunning effect: The erotic intimacy made Diana whimper and press full-length against him while she offered her mouth to him once more. But after an intense moment, Thorne left off. He wanted her fully, utterly aroused when he took her for the first time. He wanted to feel the softness of her breasts in his hands, to feel her nipples harden in his mouth while she wrapped her slender legs around him.

Moving lower, he kissed the ivory column of her throat, her delicate collarbone, her sweet, ripe breasts.

She arched her back when his tongue traced burning kisses around her fullness, and gave a soft cry of surrender when his lips closed wetly over her nipple, tugging and stroking fiercely.

She was trembling with desire by the time he reached down between her thighs, brushing the soft, swollen flesh at the apex. Her feminine cleft was sleek with wetness, and she moaned and twisted beneath him as he stroked the soaked bud.

At her eager response, the heat inside Thorne became flame, hot and searing. He was filled with a wild need to mark Diana as his.

His mouth returning to devour hers, he settled himself between her thighs, his erection stiff against her pulsing flesh. But it was with infinite care that he slowly eased himself inside her.

She tensed momentarily, her breath faltering while she grew accustomed to his impalement. After the span of several heartbeats, she instinctively raised her hips, taking his thick shaft even more deeply until she was filled up with him, welcoming him fully.

Thorne shuddered convulsively as her hot, moist flesh sheathed him, for the added tightness only intensified his unbearable arousal. Then Diana began to move against him, as if she shared the urgent hunger clambering inside him, and the spiraling, searing tension ignited in a firestorm.

Fire. Torment. Purest drugging bliss.

Diana felt the same fire, he was certain. Like a woman too long denied, she whimpered feverishly, her nails digging into his shoulders as helplessly she matched the rhythm of his possession.

Moments later, he felt the wild ripple that shook her body, felt the cry that vibrated through her. She gasped his name in a raw, shaking plea, but he never relented. Instead he ground his teeth to hold back the deep, primal sound rumbling in his chest and held her quaking body still for his careful thrusts, using all his skill to prolong the devastating pleasure for her.

She bucked and writhed beneath him as wave after wave of rapture convulsed her slender form. He captured her wild moans with his mouth…until finally he could bear no more. Shaking violently, Thorne gave up the fight and let his own body erupt in frenzied, explosive passion.

In the aftermath, their harsh breaths sounded loud in the silence while the tremors of pleasure softly faded.

Still dazed, Thorne carefully eased his weight from her. Wary of her bandaged shoulder, he gathered Diana’s limp body against his, pressing his lips tenderly against her damp temple. Her dark, fragrant hair spilled over his chest as he simply held her, his chest aching with the maze of emotions that tangled within him.

It had been an irrevocable step, taking her virginity. But since he had every intention of wedding her, her loss of innocence didn’t matter a whit. In truth, their coupling had made it all the more certain she would eventually give in to him.

Their lovemaking had also seemed inevitable tonight. After their brush with death, it was only natural for a consoling embrace to lead to such intense passion. He had offered Diana comfort in the most primal way possible.

His own fierce reaction had been unexpected, though. Her passion had shaken him to his core, the wrenching, tearing, exquisite release more powerful than any he’d ever felt.