One Wicked Night (29 page)

“Why?” he barked again.

Finally, resignation overtook her expression. She swallowed nervously. “I was looking for a lover . . . or at least, I was supposed to be looking for one.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Cyrus wanted me to find a lover to get me . . . with child.”

An icy wave of incredulity rushed through his body. In outrage, he stood. “No. No man of sound mind like Warrington would want, much less
condone,
his wife’s infidelities. I cannot believe he wanted another’s man’s brat running about his house, claiming to be his son.”

“He had no choice,” she implored. “Cyrus knew Alastair would destroy everything he and his ancestors had spent their lives building. His nephew is disturbed.”

Lucien scowled. “So he sent you into another man’s arms? Damn unlikely. Why didn’t he get an heir on you himself? Hell, why did he never try?”

“Because you will not tell me the truth.” He inched closer, closing in on her. “Why didn’t he bed you himself?” When she hesitated, he grabbed her arms again. “Why?”

During the ensuing silence, Lucien held his breath, wishing he could wring the answer out of her pretty little hide. His thoughts raced as he tried to deduce the secret she guarded so diligently. He came up empty.

Lucien stood, amazement rippling through him. Impotent? He paced, realizing her explanation answered many of his questions. But to send her into a stranger’s arms? He turned to face her. “He wanted you to spend your nights in another man’s bed and bear him a bastard?”

“Yes,” she croaked, clutching the blankets in her fists. “He felt he had no choice. And it’s not as if the
ton
, or even the child, would have ever known the truth.”

Suddenly, the devious plan took better shape in Lucien’s mind. A fury as strong as steel, as hot as the fires of hell, roared through him.

He shook her, then pulled her to her feet. “Nor, I imagine, would the child’s true father ever have learned of the babe. Am I right? That’s why you fled my bedroom with such haste.”

“Yes,” she answered, then protested, “No! I was terrified. I was confused. I was . . . ashamed of my behavior.”

She hesitated, seeming to grasp for words, probably fabricating a story, as Ravenna had done after he discovered one of her rendezvous. He released her. “You’ve no need to explain, I understand perfectly. You needed a faceless, nameless man to be your stud,” he growled. “You wanted some unsuspecting
fool
to impregnate you, and you chose me.”

“That is not true,” she protested.

He had to give her credit; she was almost convincing. Far better than Ravenna.

“Why me?” he demanded. She opened her mouth, and Lucien held up a hand to stay her reply. “Never mind. I know. I was the consummate unsuspecting fool. Hell, I was a grieving drunk. The perfect target!”

He strode away. Presenting her with his taut back and shoulders, he spat a litany of curses. Seconds later, he heard her faint footsteps traveling in his direction. She touched a hand to his shoulder.

Fire leapt to life within him. “Damn you. Go away.”

“It was never like that,” she vowed in that husky voice that never failed to make him hard. Christ! He had hoped somehow that she was different. Why did he always have a stiff cock for lovely liars?

Furious with her, and his body’s response, he whirled to face her. “Then how was it? Can you honestly say that conceiving my child
never
crossed your mind that night?”

She paused before lifting her reluctant gaze to him. “It did,” she whispered, then quickly added, “but that is not why—”

“No? Then why did you allow me, a total stranger, to bed you? Are you going to keep telling me the same lie, that you wanted me?”

She held up supplicating hands. “I did! I did not go to Vauxhall that night looking for some . . . some stud. I merely wanted Cyrus to believe that I meant to play along with his plan, but I couldn’t. I never had any intention of taking a lover because I believed in my heart it was wrong.”

“That’s good, sweetheart. Blame a dead man for your sins. Obviously, he’s in no position to refute you.”

“Truly, I would not lie about something this important,” she implored. “And I did not believe you would care about my marital status. Most men would not.”

Her beautiful face was so open, her blue eyes so contrite and earnest, Lucien wanted to believe her.

Believe her after this deception? Lucien didn’t see how he could ever again.

Ravenna had betrayed him by sharing her body with other men. And he had hated her for slurring the Daneridge title, for giving to others what should have been his alone. But Serena held a kingdom all her own in the realm of betrayal. To rob a man of his own flesh and blood, and what was more, never tell him of his child, was unforgivable.

“Goddamn you!” he cursed, then whirled away, stalking toward the door adjoining their rooms.

From behind, she grabbed his sleeve. “Stop! I swear to you I’ve told the truth. I did not tell you sooner because Cyrus was so ashamed of his . . . condition. He disliked being anything less than perfect. As he saw it, this made him not only imperfect, but not a real man.”

His words brushed her trembling mouth. “I understand now. You only wanted me when you wanted to
use
me, could only bear my touch when you were told to. All this week you’ve been putting me off, turning me away, and I thought you merely wanted a gentle seduction.” He snaked his other arm around her waist, molding her against him. “Obviously, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Serena tried to wriggle from his hold, rubbing instead against his aching shaft. Dozens of tingles tore through his belly and streamed down his legs, blurring his anger, blending it with blazing desire.

“You do that well, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, deadly. “Did Warrington teach you that move before he sent you out to find me?”

Serena tried to twist from his grasp. “Let go!”

He shook his head, his smile thinning into a hard line. “I think not. You see, I understand now that the way to get you back in my bed is not to seduce or cajole. Oh, no,” he murmured, his voice harsh. “You respond better to orders and commands.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Lucien—”

“Warrington told you to spread your enchanting white thighs, and you did. I am your husband now. You’re going to do the same for me.”

Her husky voice rang in his ears, ran through his surging blood to merge with the fury and lust already pounding inside his body. Fire and ice described him perfectly. He was hot; he was cold. He despised her; he wanted her. Now.

“To hell with waiting.”

His mouth captured hers in a savage kiss. She struggled, her bare feet kicking his shins. She pushed at his chest, her nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

His lips never left hers as he cupped her bottom, his desperate hands kneading, pressing her against the granite of his arousal. Against his mouth, she opened hers to protest.

Lucien took advantage of her parted lips by sliding inside to taste her. Her flavor slammed across his senses as he pressed deeper, capturing her kiss with ruthless determination.

Oh, God. She was warm and sweet, exactly as he remembered, only better. He held her tighter, pressing her breasts into his chest, reveling in the heat. He was dizzy with her scent. It wafted through his senses and into his head, muddling reason.

A moment later, her hands relaxed against his chest. She ceased scratching and pushing. She parted her lips further at his urgings. He was lost.

Lucien lifted his head. He stared down into her delicate face, her startled eyes, her flushed cheeks, her lips swollen from
his
kiss. A dangerous need to possess her, claim her, raged through him. He lowered his mouth to hers once more. After a moment of hesitation, she met him with sweet abandon.

He continued his quest, his tongue seeking out the deepest recesses of her mouth. Suddenly, her fingers curled around his shoulders and squeezed, as if she struggled with some inner demon. He gave no quarter.

He delved inside her mouth even more and groaned with the feel of her lips and her body against his, straining against his cock. He was so hard it hurt.

With his hands cupping her backside, he bent until each palm grasped a thigh, fingers curling toward the soft folds of her sex. He lifted her off the ground, then wrapped her legs about his hips.

She gasped. “Lucien—”

He cut her off with another wild kiss.

As his body throbbed with passion, with life, blood roared through his veins, obliterating logic and restraint. Holding Serena against him, Lucien felt the wet silk of her cleft through his shirt, against his belly. Again, the urge to take her here, now, pounded him.

He sank to the carpet on his knees, holding her against him.

Serena clutched his shoulders to prevent tumbling to the floor. He leaned forward, towering over her, until her back landed on the carpet with a muffled thud. An instant later he covered her body with his own, the cradle of her thighs surrounding his hips.

His mouth ravaged hers once more before he nuzzled her neck. He slid further down her body, finding one nipple beneath the linen of her nightrail. His lips took it, his tongue moistened it, his teeth stiffened it. She cried out.

Surrender
, he thought in primitive triumph. He had never wanted a woman more, never felt as if he would burst the instant he buried himself in her tight sheath. This woman was his wife, and she was damn well going to act like it.

His blood raced as he curled his fingers around the edges of her nightrail, close to her neck. Her breathing came fast, hard. Their gazes connected for a suspended second. He gave her a long moment to push him away. She stared back, her face full of breathless acceptance.

He ripped her gown down the length of her torso.

Every inch of her lay naked, exposed to his hungry gaze. The scent of gardenias and the musk of female flesh filled his nostrils, heightening his desire to an excruciating peak. He kissed her neck, his tongue exploring the soft skin there. At her gasp, he cupped one hand about her breast, larger in pregnancy, his thumb hardening the nipple for his pleasure. His other hand delved into the soft curls between her slender thighs, coaxing, arousing, rubbing the tiny bud of her desire. In savage satisfaction, he felt it stiffen between questing fingers.

“Spread your legs wider, Serena,” he heard himself say in a husky, demanding rasp. He lowered trembling fingers to the fastenings of his breeches. In several jerks, he opened his pants, then pushed them about his hips. His manhood sprang free. He pressed against the moist curls between her thighs. “Open for me.”

With his knees, he pushed her legs further apart. “Damn it, Serena, you have too much passion to keep it locked inside, away from me. Share it. Let me give some back to you.”

Before she could respond, he lowered his hand to her entrance. With a gentle push, her body accepted two of his fingers. At his invasion, he heard her breath catch, felt her body tremble beneath him. He caressed her little bud with this thumb. Around his fingers, her flesh was slick and hot and ready.

He lifted his head to gauge her expression. Her languid, now heavy-lidded gaze stared back, cheeks flushed with desire.

“You want me,” he asserted, feeling the proof around his fingers, seeing it in her smoky eyes. “As much as I want you. Whether it makes any damned sense or not.”

“I should not do this,” she repeated, her voice trembling.

He moved his fingertips, teasing her slick inner walls, his thumb still working that sensitive knot of flesh. Her breath caught on a gasp, her legs tightening around his body, keeping him a willing prisoner.

His insides beat with elemental desire. “Shouldn’t do what, receive pleasure? Have the satisfaction your body is screaming for?” He laved her nipple with his tongue, feeling a surge of triumph when she grabbed his head and pressed him closer. “With your husband, you should.”

He wrapped his arms around her sides, his palms slipping beneath her to cup her buttocks. He tilted her pelvis up. Her breathing quickened. He guided the engorged tip of his cock to her wet entrance and paused. Serena closed her eyes and brought her legs up about his hips. His body throbbed with life, with power and need.