Notorious Deception (12 page)

“Oh, my God,” she whispered brokenly, curling her fingers around him.

Derek let out a loud groan at her innocent touch, and she instantly jerked her hand away.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

He gave a small laugh that sounded more like a moan. “If you hurt me anymore, I shall disgrace myself, sweetheart.”

Diana giggled nervously, not completely understanding his remark. She snuggled close to him, rubbing her cheek against the fine hair on his chest. He was being so patient with her, so gentle and loving. Her heart swelled with emotion.

She lifted her chin so he could kiss her mouth, and he willingly complied. She could feel the change in him as he kissed her. His mouth was hot and demanding, while his hands were bolder, more insistent, as they swept her body.

His mouth burned a path down her throat to her breasts and his lips fastened hungrily on her nipple. He suckled gently, kneading and stroking with his tongue until her nipple was hard and erect. Then he turned his attention to her other breast, while his hand traveled down her soft belly to the delicate triangle of blonde curls between her thighs.

She stiffened instinctively and tried to clamp her legs together. She had no idea he would want to touch her
there.

“Derek, please, no . . . no . . . I—”

“It's all right, sweetheart,” he murmured soothingly. “I won't hurt you. Just relax.”

He pressed soft kisses along her cheek and murmured sweet endearments against her ear. Diana listened to his beloved voice and gradually overcame her trepidation. His fingers returned to her thighs, gently probing, until he found her. She was slick and hot, and he skillfully slipped his forefinger inside.

A bolt of pure sensation speared her body at his touch. She moaned loudly, arching her back at the explosive warmth in her belly. Diana felt overpowered by the intense sensations claiming her. She had never imagined anything could be so incredibly pleasurable. What was he doing to her? She lifted her wide and questioning eyes to Derek's face, needing to know if he too felt this intense heat and tension gathering deep within his own body.

Derek looked down at her, his eyes glazed with desire. He could barely control himself. She was so sweet, so trusting. His fingers stroked her rhythmically, and he could feel her stretching to admit him. She was very small. He sucked in his breath. She felt hot, moist, and incredibly tight. He could wait no longer.

“I am going to come inside you now,” he whispered hoarsely.

Diana trembled at his words, hovering on the edge of her own passion, and she willingly opened herself to receive him. Derek covered her body with his own and Diana welcomed his weight. She felt his manhood probing her; then he reached down and parted her softness. He entered her forcefully, thrusting deeply into her dampness.

When he surged into her shivering body, he heard Diana's strangled cry of pain as he ripped through a strong, thick membrane. Derek instantly froze. It was her maidenhead.

She was a virgin! But that wasn't possible. She had been married for more than three years. His eyes flew to her face, the questions flooding his mind.

Diana's head was back against the pillows and her eyes were shut tight. Her lips were pressed together in a thin white line, and he could see she was in pain. All questions quickly vanished as his thoughts turned to her.

He carefully brought himself up on his elbows. He felt himself throbbing deep within her, but he forced himself to ignore his own passion.

“I hurt you,” he said in a quiet voice.

Diana blinked up at him, but didn't answer. She felt oddly apart from herself and more a part of him since their bodies were joined together. The stinging pain she first felt was fading, replaced by a throbbing discomfort. He was so very large that she could feel her body stretching to hold him. She had been startled, especially after he'd said he would not hurt her, but the pain was lessening. She wanted more of him.

“The pain is not so bad now,” she assured him, involuntarily squeezing the muscles that held him so firmly inside her.

“Christ!” Derek groaned loudly at her action, his control slipping.

Diana could feel him shuddering as he fought to regain control of himself. She lightly stroked his back, feeling the need to comfort him. “Please don't stop now, Derek,” she pleaded, in a raspy voice.

He could not resist her. Derek withdrew slightly, then plunged deeply into her, trying to go slowly, but she was so small and tight he was nearly beside himself. He heard her groan, and he immediately stopped, thinking he was hurting her. He waited tensely for her reaction; then she experimentally moved her hips up to meet him. His rod swelled even larger, and he began thrusting powerfully inside her warm, moist sheath.

Diana answered his thrusts by moving her body in unison with his. With her acceptance of his flesh, the pace of Derek's lovemaking increased. Diana clutched her fingers frantically about his shoulders, as the tempo quickened and the twisting, tightening feeling deep within her lower body grew more intense.

Derek's eyes never left Diana's face as he felt the frantic tension within her cresting, and she moaned his name in a bewildered voice. He was conscious of nothing except her as she shuddered and quivered in fulfillment. Her sweet pleasure brought him to his own release, and he held her tightly, arching his back in primitive surrender, pouring his hot seed deep inside her.

Everything went blank for an instant; then Derek collapsed on top of Diana, his breathing still ragged, his brow damp with sweat. He was embedded deep inside her, his body still enjoying the insensible pleasure she had given him. He nuzzled her neck and sighed with contentment.

Diana answered him with an affectionate squeeze, still too dazed and satisfied to understand what had happened to her. She hadn't known what to expect and could never, even in her wildest dreams, have imagined anything so shattering, so consuming, so complete. She snuggled closer to Derek's hard, damp body.

“I love you.” The words were out before Diana was even aware she had spoken them.

Her declaration was met with total silence. Derek allowed himself only a brief moment to experience the warmth and joy her simple statement brought his long protected heart before consigning it to the back of his mind. Uppermost in his thoughts was the nagging fact that she lied to him, probably from the very first.

She had been a virgin! That fact led him immediately to the conclusion Diana had never been married and was not, as she claimed, his cousin's widow. But who was she? And what was the true purpose of this elaborate hoax? Silently, he cursed himself for being such a fool to be taken in so easily by her beauty and guile.

Diana shifted slightly under him, reminding him sharply that he was still sheathed within the warmth of her body. He could feel himself begin to grow hard inside her, his body hungering again for her sweetness.

Angrily, Derek jerked his hips up, separating himself from her. Rolling over onto his back, he stared gloomily up at the ceiling, trying not to touch her as she lay beside him. Confusion and frustration washed over him, and he spoke at last, his voice cold and sarcastic.

“Perhaps now that we have shared this intimate moment together, you will be kind enough to explain to me, madam, precisely who the hell you are?”

Diana felt suspended in time. She heard Derek's voice, but did not comprehend his words. Her mind and body were still floating on the sensations and pleasures of their lovemaking, and she felt sleepy and deliriously happy.

Sighing contentedly, she turned to Derek, burrowing her face into his shoulder. She missed his warmth, the feel of his strong arms. She threw her arm across his chest and twined her legs through his, moving even closer.

“I'm cold, Derek,” she whimpered when he did not wrap his arms around her.

“Then I suggest you pull up the coverlet.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

Diana lifted her head, suddenly becoming aware of his rigid expression. She felt a prickle of fear clutch her heart.

“Is something wrong, Derek?”

“I asked you a question, madam,” he snapped. “I am waiting for your response.”

Diana shrank away from his coldness, her inside tightening. Something was wrong, very wrong. His beautiful blue eyes, moments before filled with passion and tenderness, were narrow with anger and mistrust. She moved to the far corner of the bed and sat up, pulling the linens to her chest to hide her nakedness.

“I'm sorry,” she said slowly, trying to keep the rising sense of panic from her voice. “I didn't hear your question.”

“I asked who you were,” he responded. “And no more lies, please. I've grown weary of your little masquerade.”

Diana stared at him for several stunned minutes, completely bewildered. Was he jesting? A covert glance at his harsh expression confirmed that he was not. But what did he mean? Tell him who she was? He knew perfectly well who she was.

Diana shook her head in confusion. “I'm sorry, Derek. I don't understand what you want me to say.”

“Telling me the truth would be a refreshing change,” he snapped. “That is, if you think you are capable of it.”

Diana's fear and bewilderment turned to anger at the accusing note in his voice. She might not understand his absurd questions, but she certainly understood he was calling her liar.

“You are being maddeningly cryptic, Derek,” she retorted. “I refuse to be spoken to as if I were a dim-witted child.”

“You refuse! You refuse!” he shouted, rolling suddenly across the bed and grasping her wrist tightly.

Her eyes widened in terror, but she would not be cowered by his brutality. She met his angry eyes squarely, her voice steady.

“Now that you have proven to us both how very strong you are, you may release my arm—unless, of course, you would prefer to break it.”

Derek flushed slightly, suddenly aware of his cruelty. He dropped her hand, as if it burned him, and leaped from the bed. Their conversation was going nowhere. He walked over to where his clothes lay scattered on the floor and pulled on his breeches and shirt. Giving himself additional time to calm down, he reached over and lit a hand of candles. Deciding to try another tact, he turned again to question her.

Diana clutched the covers to her breast, her wrist throbbing with pain where he had grabbed her. She felt at an even greater disadvantage, since he was partially clothed while she was still naked. Her unbound hair was falling forward and she distractedly reached up to push it off her face.

As she lifted her arm, Derek caught a glimpse of her naked breast, the soft, pale skin glistening in the candlelight. He felt his traitorous body harden in response. Using iron will to repress his overactive passions, Derek forced himself to view her with contempt.

“Let us begin again, shall we? To start with, I know you were never married to my cousin---or anyone else for that matter.”

“What? ”

“You were a virgin, Diana,” he said evenly, vowing to keep his temper. “Married women are not virgins.”

“How did you know?” she asked.

“The pain you felt at our coupling was caused by your maidenhead, Diana,” he answered. “And this is the final proof.” His hand snaked out, wrenching the covers from the bottom of the bed and exposing bed linen along with a good portion of Diana's shapely legs. The candlelight illuminated the spots of bright blood, mixed with his seed, on the sheet.

Diana yanked the covers back down and scrambled toward the center of the bed, away from him. Her mind was racing as she tried to formulate an answer. How could she possibly explain her relationship with her husband?

“Giles never wanted me,” she said finally, warmth flooding her face.

“Really?” Derek remarked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

Diana looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “It's the truth. On our wedding night Giles became quite drunk and very insulting. He took great delight in telling me he married me only for my fortune and had no intention of being intimate with me. I slept alone that night,”

“That was only one night,” Derek said. “You claim to have been married for several years. I know you stated Giles did not live at your home in Cornwall, but you admit he visited. There were other opportunities.”

Diana lifted her head. Her voice trembled, but she said, “Giles was most adamant in his rejection of me. During those few years that never changed. He reminded me, each time I saw him, how lacking he found me in all the genteel qualities he so admired in a woman. He pronounced me common and physically unappealing.”

Diana closed her eyes, fighting back the tears at her bitter memories, the pain and humiliation of her past consuming her with a vengeance.

Derek felt a sharp twinge of guilt at being the catalyst for her pain, yet he could not credit her story. No man in his right mind could possibly look at her and find her wanting. Derek knew his cousin. Giles did not possess the will to resist such a beautiful female. She had to be lying.

“Tell me the truth, Diana,” Derek said softly. “Who put you up to this ridiculous charade? Was it Marlow?”

“No. No, it was not Jonathan Marlow,” she whispered brokenly. “It wasn't anyone, Derek. I am telling you the truth about my marriage to Giles.”

She turned her pale face up to him, studying him in an attempt to gauge his reaction. His face was set in grim lines; his expression was one of disbelief. She felt her heart turn over. Could this be the same man who had just made love to her, who had initiated her into womanhood with such tenderness and sweetness? No, this cold-eyed stranger was not that man. This cold-eyed stranger was someone she did not know.

“You don't believe me,” she said dully, her voice a mixture of pain and regret. “I don't know what else to do, what else to say. I have told you the truth, yet you refuse to believe me.”

He walked away from the bed, then picked up the remainder of his clothes slowly. He opened the door, hesitating only a brief second before walking through it and slamming it hard behind him.

Diana flinched at the noise. She felt cold and dead inside. The man she loved with all of her heart, the man she had given herself to freely, joyfully, had just called her a liar and could no longer bear the sight of her. But why? Why? What had she done that was so very wrong?

Diana sunk down into the bed, burying herself deeper into the covers. There was no way she could force Derek to believe her. She would simply have to wait until they reached her home and she could produce her marriage lines for the earl. Perhaps then he would finally acknowledge she spoke the truth.

Diana turned her face to the pillow, weeping softly. He didn't trust or believe her. She shifted her hips and felt the soreness between her legs. It was a vivid reminder of what they had shared together, something Diana had felt was perfect and beautiful. Until now.

Diana painfully admitted to herself that, despite her shock and hurt at Derek's behavior toward her, she still loved him. That was one emotion she could not so easily dismiss. But any dreams she might have cherished for a future with him were gone. How could she even consider sharing her life with a man who clearly did not trust her?

Of course, she had no reason to believe Derek would have ever contemplated sharing his life with her. But she had dared to dream and hope. And he had called her a liar and rejected her in no uncertain terms.

Eventually, she would prove to Derek she was telling the truth about her marriage to Giles. Would it make a difference? Not as far as Diana was concerned. Love could not survive without trust. And Derek did not trust her. She could not spend the rest of her life tied to a man who continually doubted her honesty.

Diana felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness and loss. For a brief, glorious moment, she and Derek had captured and held something rare and beautiful. But the moment was gone. Coldness flooded her heart when she thought of what she had lost. Tears fell softly, and as the streaks of light brought forth the dawn, Diana dully contemplated the long, lonely years stretching ahead of her.

Diana awoke late, feeling empty and sad. She ate her breakfast alone, dutifully chewing and swallowing each bite, although she tasted almost nothing of it.

“The carriage awaits you, milady,” the innkeeper's wife said to Diana.

“Thank you,” Diana replied graciously. She finished the last of her meal and wiped her fingers on her napkin. Diana walked out of the inn, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead. Langston stood by the carriage, waiting to assist her inside. She assumed Derek was already seated inside since he was not on top of the coach. She took a deep breath and gathered up her skirts, but stopped short when she saw the coach was unoccupied.

Diana turned questioning eyes to Langston. “The earl?”

“How flattering that you missed me, madam.” Derek's mocking voice sliced through the quiet morning air.

She forced herself to raise her eyes to the sound. Derek was mounted on a large gray stallion she hadn't seen before. His face was unshaven, his hair rumpled, and his clothes, the same from last night, looked as though he slept in them. He was as handsome as ever. Diana's heart skipped a beat as she met his cold blue eyes, but she refused to cower before him.

“Good morning, my lord,” Diana said evenly.

The sight of her standing there so proud and beautiful unnerved him. Her face was very pale, and she had dark smudges under her eyes, attesting to her lack of sleep, but Derek thought she looked as lovely as always.

“I trust you slept well last night,” Derek taunted her, unable to help himself.

He heard her suck in her breath sharply, but she refused to be baited. “How very kind of you to inquire, my lord,” she responded sweetly. “Unfortunately, I did not rest well early in the evening. A constant gnawing sound kept me awake for a considerable length of time.”

“A gnawing sound?”

“Yes,” she continued, her eyes glittering. “I believe it was a rat. Thankfully, it left my bedchamber early and I slept most soundly after that.”

Her barb effectively delivered, Diana flashed a dazzling smile at the earl. She held tightly to Langston's hand and jumped into the carriage.

Derek stared at the closed carriage door, admiring her courage. The only consistent thing about Diana was the fact that she could continually surprise him. He drew alongside the carriage, but Diana pulled the shade down, and he could not see inside. He guided his mount to the road, and the coach dutifully followed his lead.

Diana spent the morning vacillating between self-pity and anger. Seeing Derek again rattled her more than she cared to admit, and she was more determined than ever to exonerate herself. Her pride could not bear the idea that he thought her to be a deceitful woman.

They made a brief stop in the early afternoon for lunch. Diana stepped from the carriage, and she knew instantly she was once again back in Cornwall. Everywhere, the countryside was permeated by the sea. The remoteness and inaccessibility of the area always had something of an otherworldly atmosphere clinging to it, and Diana could feel the very essence of the Cornish coast when she gazed out at the rugged shoreline.

Diana again ate a solitary lunch, but she did not mind. She was only a few hours from home and that knowledge lifted her spirits. After she reentered the carriage Derek opened the door and stuck his head inside.

“There are no road markers ahead. Can you tell us which road to take?”

He moved aside so she could lean out the carriage door to see the road up ahead. She deliberately avoided touching him, not trusting her own reaction.

“The fork to the left,” she informed him. “Tell Langston to have care. The road from St. Ives undulates through bare and rock-strewn moorlands and can be difficult to negotiate for someone who doesn't know it.”

Derek gave his driver the instructions, then joined her inside the coach. Diana was surprised and a bit alarmed, but kept her expression cooly impersonal.