Pure Temptation (9 page)

He spotted Moira immediately, in the arms of the tall, resplendent Russian prince. They complemented each other perfectly, Jack thought jealously as he watched them whirl about the floor. Suddenly the prince waltzed Moira out onto the balcony, and Jack felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck. Did the little fool have no sense at all? Was it up to him to save her from her own passionate nature? How did she expect to land a husband if she insisted upon behaving shamelessly?

Jack noted that Victoria was speaking with another woman and took advantage of her momentary distraction to hurry after Moira and the prince.

“Are you cold, mademoiselle?” Prince Gregor asked as he gallantly removed his jacket and placed it over Moira’s shoulders. “In Russia, this is mild weather. You would love Russia, and I would love to show it to you.”

“I doubt I will ever see your country, Prince Gregor,” Moira said wistfully. “Though I am certain I would like it.”

“Then we will see that you are given the opportunity to visit,” Gregor said with feeling. “As my…special guest, of course.”

Moira had an inkling of what he intended to say and sought to turn his mind in another direction. “Have you ever been to Ireland, Prince Gregor?”

“Never, but perhaps we could go together one day.”

Moira groaned in dismay. How did one gracefully refuse what she knew the prince was going to offer? “That is unlikely.”

Not one to be denied, Gregor turned Moira to face him. Then, placing a finger beneath her chin, he lowered his mouth and kissed her with an expertise that left her breathless. It was nothing like Lord Renfrew’s sloppy kisses, or the mesmerizing, soul-destroying ones Jack gave her, but Gregor’s kiss was rather pleasant in an unexciting sort of way.

“I fear my ward is unfamiliar with the rules of propriety, having been born and raised in the country. Please forgive her for acting improperly.”

Moira groaned in dismay. For the second time tonight, Jack had caught her in a compromising position. And neither time had the man’s attentions been invited.

Prince Gregor did not look at all embarrassed, which sent Jack’s temper soaring. “Your ward is delightful. Again I ask your permission to call on her tomorrow.”

Jack sent Moira a piercing look. “Permission denied. We both know nothing can come of it. Come, Moira, ’tis time we left.”

Prince Gregor took Moira’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I deeply regret your guardian’s decision.”

Jack’s tightly clenched fists were the only signs of his anger. That and the hard glint in his eyes. Aware of Jack’s annoyance, a small rebellious thought took flight in Moira’s mind. Jack was becoming entirely too protective. Not one of her suitors pleased him. He wanted her to marry, yet he found fault with every man who expressed interest in her. What did he want from her?

Tearing her gaze from Jack, Moira smiled at Prince Gregor and said, “Thank you for the dance, Prince. It was most enjoyable.”

The prince sent Jack a fulminating glance as he kissed Moira’s hand again, then reluctantly released it. “The pleasure
was all mine.” He nodded to Jack and said, “I congratulate you on the charm and beauty of your ward.”

“Don’t forget your jacket, Prince Gregor,” Jack said as he whisked the garment from Moira’s shoulders and thrust it at the prince.

A tense silence ensued after the prince’s departure. The silence between them lengthened, until suddenly Jack let out an explosive breath, grasped Moira’s shoulders and gave her an angry shake.

“What in the hell is the matter with you? Are you deliberately trying to destroy your reputation? Two men in one night is too much. Have a little regard for propriety. I know you’ve been indiscreet in the past, taking lovers indiscriminately, but that was before you made your debut as a lady. The least you can do is act with decorum until you land a husband.”

Moira’s Irish temper exploded. “The hell with you, Jack Graystoke! I don’t need a keeper. The only reason I went along with this harebrained scheme was because…because…” Her words skidded to an abrupt halt. She didn’t trust Jack enough to tell him that she was a candidate for Newgate prison.

“Because what, Moira? I always suspected you were hiding something from me. What is it?”

Her lips clamped together stubbornly. “Nothing. I went along with your scheme merely to prove to you that I am capable of acting like a lady. And…and marrying a rich man appealed to me.”

“As well it should,” Jack said sourly. “More the reason for you to act with proper decorum until you land the right man.” He grasped her arm, escorting her back to the ballroom. “Come along. I think it’s time we left. I’ve had enough of these macaroni dandies for one night.”

As luck would have it, Victoria was dancing with Spence and did not see him leave. Jack left a message with the footman for her and hustled Moira out to his carriage.

Huddled inside, Moira fumed in impotent rage. She had no idea what was wrong with Jack, or why he seemed so upset with her. She was doing what he wanted, wasn’t she? What more did he want from her?

“Stop pouting, Moira,” Jack said, still irritated over the kisses Moira had shared with Renfrew and the prince. He should have known an immoral creature like Moira would enjoy enticing men until they were wild for her. Who knew better than he? He could still taste her kisses. The memory of them was as vivid as heaven’s brightest star.

“I’m not pouting,” Moira declared. “I’m angry. You have no right to treat me like chattel. I’m through with this charade. I’m tired of you telling me what to do, how to act, whom to offer friendship. You’re not responsible for me, Jack. I can take care of myself.”

Jack spit out a string of oaths that stung her ears. “Oh, you can, can you? If I hadn’t walked in on you and Renfrew, you’d have found yourself on your back with your skirts over your head and your legs spread.” His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps that’s what you wanted.”

His brutal accusation stunned her. “For your information, Lord Percy offered for me tonight.”

Jack went still. “He
offered you marriage?”

“Isn’t that what you and Lord Spencer were hoping for? Are you suitably amused? Passing me off as a lady and watching your dandified friends vie for my attention must have given you hours of entertainment at my expense.”

“Did you accept?” Jack asked tightly, unable to think of anything but that bounder Renfrew taking from Moira what he’d dreamed of taking for himself.

After a long, drawn-out pause, Moira said, “Not yet. I’m to give him my answer next week. But I see no reason to refuse. His offer is an honorable one. He’s in line for a dukedom, and I’ll be a countess one day. I’ll have the means to help Kevin and his family.”

“Which is more than I can give you,” Jack returned shortly. “What about the prince? Do you intend playing one man against the other?”

A slow heat crept up Moira’s neck. He was accusing her unjustly. “Prince Gregor is a charming man, but I know better than to expect an honorable proposal from him. ’Tis best I marry Lord Renfrew.”

“Like hell!” Jack thundered. “Percy Renfrew isn’t the right man for you. He pretends to be a gentleman, and few people are aware of his true nature. You’re marrying no one without my consent.”

“I don’t understand you, Jack. I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me so you can wed Lady Victoria.”

“The hell with Victoria!” Jack ground out harshly.

Jack lapsed into a moody silence. Damn Lady Amelia for her interference, damn Spence for suggesting this charade, and damn him for going along with it! What had at first promised to be an amusing venture had turned into a debacle. If he’d had the slightest inkling he would find the Irish wench so bloody irresistible, he would have left her lying in the gutter.

Wanting Moira had turned his life upside down. He ached with the need to make love to her. She filled his senses; the sound, the touch and the scent of her fed his hunger. Since meeting Moira, he’d lost all interest in gambling and drinking, and Lord knows he had no desire to bed Victoria, his intended bride. Moira’s entrance into his life made him question his own sanity.

He’d been foolish not to partake of her charms, he reflected. He should have taken what he wanted when the need was upon him instead of denying himself. Had he done so, she would be out of his system by now and he could get on with his life. It wasn’t as if Moira was an innocent. She’d freely confessed to having at least one lover, and only the good Lord knew how many others there had been. What would one more hurt?

When the carriage rattled to a halt before Graystoke Manor a few minutes later, Jack was still in a fine fury. He climbed down and reached for Moira. But instead of helping her alight, he whisked her up into his arms and carried her to the house. Pettibone opened the door before they reached it.

“I told you not to wait up, Pettibone,” Jack said as he swept past the flabbergasted servant. “Go to bed. I’ve no further need of you tonight.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Pettibone asked with quiet dignity. “Perhaps I should see Lady Moira to her room.”

“Stop meddling, Pettibone,” Jack said from between clenched teeth. “I’m quite aware of what I’m doing.”

“Well, I’m not!” Moira countered. “Put me down. I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

Jack’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Our argument is far from finished.”

“It is as far as I’m concerned,” Moira said with rising panic. What did Jack intend? He appeared too angry to listen to reason.

He took the stairs two at a time, unaware that Pettibone was following close behind until the man said, “You’re angry, Sir Jack, and you know how your temper can get you into trouble. Let me call Jilly to see to Lady Moira.”

“Go to bed, Pettibone,” Jack repeated. “Moira doesn’t need Jilly tonight. If you’re worried about Moira, don’t be. I won’t hurt her.”

“Very good, sir,” Pettibone said, flapping his hands helplessly as he cast one last glance at Moira. He was gone by the time Jack reached Moira’s room.

The door to Moira’s chamber was open, and a branch of candles lit all but the darkest corners of the room. A cheery blaze in the grate chased away the chill. Jilly’s doing, Moira supposed as Jack slammed the door behind him and set her on her feet.

If Moira expected Jack to turn and leave she was mistaken. “What are you going to do?” She was trembling, and not from cold. Could it be from anticipation?

Jack gave her a wicked grin, nearly stopping her heart. “First I’m going to help you undress, then I’m going to make love to you.” In spite of his earlier anger, his voice held a note of sensuality that sent shivers down her spine.

Flustered, Moira retreated several steps. Jack stalked her relentlessly. “It isn’t as if you haven’t done this before. For weeks I’ve watched you flirting with different men, tempting them with your siren’s smile. I’m a man, Moira. I can take only so much. I’ve wanted you from the moment I first set eyes on you, all bruised and battered and covered in gutter filth. I promise I’ll be a patient lover. Your pleasure is as important to me as mine. You’ll have no complaint about my handling of you.”

Moira gulped noisily. “I thought we decided not to become intimately involved. Becoming lovers would only complicate our relationship.” She feared that if she told him she was a virgin he’d know she’d been lying from the beginning. She wasn’t ready to tell the truth, for she wasn’t sure she could trust him. Newgate prison did not appeal to her.

“Ah, love, you talk too much.”

Still grinning, he reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His lips were softly seductive, tenderly persuasive, wonderfully warm. With a small cry of surrender, Moira surged against him. His arms offered a safe haven against the cruel world, his mouth and teasing tongue an invitation to sinful pleasures she could only imagine. He was pure temptation. When his hands moved over her body, Moira felt she would melt into a puddle.

For a long time, Jack simply held and kissed Moira, until the tension in her taut muscles and tendons began to relax. His warmth and desire surrounded her, slowly allowing her temperature to heat to match his. His kisses were more dangerous than she realized, for he made her long to trust and confide. It seemed so natural to be in his arms that she paid little heed to the slither of her dress as it slid down her hips to pool at her feet.

The urge to pour out her fears and soak up his strength was so strong that she nearly forgot that Black Jack Graystoke was a man known to take his pleasure where he found it. The thought jarred her out of her contentment. She broke off the kiss, shaken, and tried to escape his arms.

“This is wrong.”

Jack sent her a lazy grin. “Feels right to me.” His mouth clamped over hers, effectively silencing her protests. The velvet stroke of his tongue made it difficult to recall why she shouldn’t be allowing this kind of intimacy. Her dim pleasure thickened to sharp craving when he cupped her breast and stroked her nipple with his thumb.

His kiss grew bolder, deeper, evocative. He slid the straps of her chemise from her shoulders and untied the laces of her corset, pushing both down past her hips to join her dress and petticoats at her feet. He bent his head and pressed the moist heat of his mouth to her breast, the pounding of her blood matching the rhythmic lapping of his tongue. Her body arched and she pushed upward, guiltily aware that she
was offering him free access to the forbidden fruits of her body.

Jack moaned, sucking her nipple into his mouth and tonguing it to erectness. Moira’s knees buckled. Jack made a growling sound deep in his throat, swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her full length on the soft surface, pausing to remove her shoes and stockings before leaning back to admire her.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he gazed down at her. “But you’ve probably been told that before.”

He cupped her breasts in his warm hands, then leaned forward to suckle them. A deluge of delicious new sensations made her whimper and jerk involuntarily. His hands skimmed her limbs and torso, taking untold pleasure in the fragile flesh beneath his fingertips, so warm, so silken, so utterly enthralling. She couldn’t be called voluptuous, but she possessed more than her share of womanly attributes, Jack thought as his lips and tongue memorized the ripe curves of her breasts.

“Blessed Virgin, what are you doing to me?” Moira gasped, alarmed by her eagerness to participate in Jack’s depravities. Something dark and consuming clawed its way through her fear, heated her blood, sped her heart and speared her body with strange, aching desire for that which she had never known before.

“Making love to you,” Jack whispered huskily. “I don’t want you thinking of any other man while I’m loving you.”

How could she think of another man, Moira wondered distractedly, when Jack was doing such incredible things to her body? Before she knew what he was doing, he stripped off his trousers, hose, jacket, shirt, shoes and small clothes, and was pressing his nakedness against her in fervid longing. Moira made a sound of strangled delight as she felt her muscles surrendering to the melting warmth of his body.

“This is a mistake!” Moira cried out, gathering the last vestiges of her control. “Don’t do this to me.”

He gave her a wicked chuckle. “I wanted to kill Prince Gregor tonight, not to mention Renfrew. Seeing you in their arms drove me wild with jealousy, and I don’t like the feeling. Once I satisfy this craving for you, I’ll know peace again.” For some reason unbeknownst to him, he wanted her with a strong, irrational longing that exceeded his good sense.

She lifted her head to stare at him in unguarded surprise. That a womanizer like Jack Graystoke should express jealousy on her account was curious indeed. More than curious—downright strange. But before she had time to explore the possibilities, his hand slid down between her legs, rubbing the heel of his palm against her, slowly, erotically, until her hips arched against his hand seemingly out of instinct and she felt a liquid heat bathe her there.

Dismayed, she cried out, and his eyes seemed to glow pure silver as he watched her, a dark, hungry expression on his face. He was resting against her hipbones, the hard ridge of his flesh gently prodding her between the legs. She closed her eyes, suddenly wanting what Jack was offering though she knew it was wrong, that he was merely using her to assuage his lust. He would add her to his list of conquests and blithely go on to the next, forgetting she ever existed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jack said, sensing her fear. “This isn’t new to you; you’ve been loved before.”

“No…I…” What could she say? That she’d lied to him from the moment she awakened in his bed? It was long past the time for confession.

The moment for truth had passed as Jack lowered his head and kissed her eyelids, feathering them gently. His mouth moved down to brush her lips, nibbling lightly, delicately, stroking his tongue against the seam before urging them open so he could taste more fully of her sweetness. When her tongue touched his, his body tightened painfully, less willing to accept being patient than his mind.

His fingers delved into her slick, hot interior and found
her wet and ready. He probed more deeply, encountering folds of delicate flesh that pulsed against his fingertips, lavishly moist and surprisingly tight. Moira gave a startled cry and buried her face in his shoulder, lost in a haze of raw sensation.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jack groaned in a strangled voice that bore little resemblance to his usual resonant tones, “don’t hold back. Tonight is ours to explore all the ways to make you happy. Just tell me what you like. You’ll find me a generous lover.”

Thrusting again and again, his fingers set up a clamoring in her that built to a shattering crescendo. When he bent his head and licked her nipples, every muscle in her body tightened and she climaxed abruptly, crying out his name in shock and fear. Never had she felt anything so intensely gratifying or frightening in her life! It was almost as if Jack had torn out a little piece of her, a piece that could never be replaced.

She had barely revived from the shock of her very first climax when he grasped her hips to raise her a little as he began to move into her. She felt herself fill and stretch; it was not yet painful, but very close. She grasped his sleek, powerful shoulders to push him away.

“No!”

Jack went still. “No?”

“I…It won’t work. You’re too…too…It won’t fit.”

Jack let out a bark of laughter. “Your other lovers must have been woefully lacking, sweetheart. I’ll admit it’s a tight fit, but you’ll adjust.”

Holding her hips at an angle, he pushed farther into her. He was perspiring heavily from unaccustomed restraint, wondering why he didn’t just thrust himself to the hilt like he wanted instead of taking precious time with a woman who was probably as experienced as he. Truth to tell, he was beginning to grow uneasy at the tightness he was encountering.
Suddenly the tip of his staff butted against a barrier that wasn’t supposed to be there. He paused and frowned, noting that Moira’s eyes were closed tightly and she was biting her bottom lip as if in pain.

“Damn you! You lied!”

But it was too late to pull back now. He was so hard he ached. His body was drawn taut as a bowstring, and if he didn’t find release soon, he’d explode. Still, he didn’t want to hurt Moira unnecessarily. Grasping her legs, he pushed them as far apart as they would go and wedged himself against her.

“I’ll try not to hurt you. You’re very tight, but you’re also very wet.”

Moira held her breath. Jack’s face was stark with need and taut with self-imposed restraint. Looking into her eyes, he drew back and surged into her in one powerful stroke. Shock and surprise slammed through Moira, and she screamed as pain ripped through her. She felt suddenly too full, too tight, too consumed by Jack. He
was all the way inside her.

“Hush, sweetheart,” Jack crooned into her ear. “The pain will last but a moment.”

Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the pain a moment longer, Jack rocked gently back and forth, creating a delicious sensation that sent Moira’s blood singing through her veins and soothing the hurt he’d created moments before. She dug her fingers into the firm muscles of his shoulders and waited for the pain to return. When it did not, she moved tentatively to meet his downward strokes. Jack groaned in delight and urged her on with words of praise. When he grasped her legs and wrapped them around his waist, Moira’s thighs gripped him tightly, rocking with him as he began moving more forcefully, thrusting and withdrawing in a vigorous, jerking motion that sent her senses reeling.

The intimacy was shattering as he moved forcefully within her, his lips capturing hers in a drowning kiss, smothering the cries she wasn’t aware of making, his hands caressing her
breasts, her hips, her thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Jack urged. “You’re doing beautifully.” She arched against him, bringing him even deeper into her tight sheath. “That’s it, arch your lovely body, give all of yourself to me.”

Moira couldn’t have held back even if she wanted to. Her body no longer worked in accordance with her wishes. It was attuned to Jack and the incredible things he was doing to her. When she began to shudder and gyrate in a frenzy of need, Jack groaned, grasped her buttocks and drove powerfully, embedding himself to the hilt. To Moira it seemed as if he had been holding himself in check until her own climax began, for the moment she cried out and burst into flames, Jack drove into her once, twice, stiffened and gave a hoarse shout. Then he collapsed against her, breathing hard, his chest pumping furiously.

After a few moments, he pushed himself away and settled down beside her, one arm flung across his eyes. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Moira said, waiting expectantly for the explosion she knew would surely come. She didn’t have long to wait.

Raising himself up on one elbow, Jack nailed her with his silver gaze. “What else did you lie about? Have you told me the truth about anything? Damn you! Didn’t you think I’d know a virgin when I encountered one?”

Moira flinched beneath the fury of Jack’s implacable anger. She deserved it, she supposed, but she owed him no explanation. Since there was nothing she could say, she remained mute.

Her silence only served to fuel Jack’s rage. “Well, have you nothing to say for yourself? You’ve never had a lover, have you?”

When she refused to look at him, he jerked her upright to
face him. Moira looked into the silver inferno of his eyes and knew a moment of panic. “I never had a lover, and I never wanted you to find out this way.”

He gave her an angry shake. “Damn you! Who are you? What were you doing out on the street that night I ran you down?”

“I told you, my name is Moira O’Toole. I’m a domestic servant. I didn’t want to lie, but I was desperate.”

“Obviously,” Jack said with scathing contempt. “Had I known you were a virgin, I would never have touched you.” That wasn’t entirely true, Jack allowed as he silently contemplated his hunger for her. He seriously doubted Moira’s virginity would have made the slightest difference in what happened tonight. This precise moment had been preordained since the day he’d brought Moira into his home. “You owe me an explanation, Moira.”

“I don’t owe you a thing, Jack Graystoke! I told you long ago I absolved you of all responsibility for me. I should have never agreed to stay and engage in this charade.”

“’Tis too late now to change what happened. What’s done is done. Since marrying you myself is out of the question, and I can’t afford a mistress, ’tis my duty to see you properly wed. And that doesn’t mean to Percy Renfrew.”

“His offer was honorable,” Moira spat out indignantly.

“That’s how much you know! His parents gave him an ultimatum: He either had to marry or be disinherited. His reputation is so disreputable that no respectable woman would have him. He was growing desperate until you came along.”

“There are other men,” Moira reminded him.

“Ah, yes, your other suitors. None of them will do. While you remain in my care, you’ll marry someone I approve of. The season is far from over, and there are better prospects than those macaroni dandies.”

Moira stared at him, wondering if he was being obstinate
because he genuinely cared what happened to her or for some ulterior motive she knew nothing about. After what happened between them tonight, she’d be wise to leave this house as fast as her legs could carry her. But where would she go? She’d need to steal money to get back to Ireland, and after her experience with the Mayhews, stealing held no appeal for her. She was already a wanted woman.

Suddenly Moira became aware that Jack’s attention was focused on her breasts and she tried to cover herself with her hands, realizing she was fully exposed and vulnerable to his inspection. Jack stared at her, arrested, his searing gaze shifting downward from her breasts over the gentle rise of her hips to the tangled triangle of red curls between her legs. His breath caught in his throat and his shaft hardened instantly, rising in splendid erection.

Moira couldn’t tear her eyes from that male part of him as she recalled the pleasure it had given her short moments ago. When he reached out and pulled her against him, she felt brittle enough to shatter. She knew what he wanted—and what she wanted as well—and feared she was following Jack to perdition.

“Sweet Virgin Mary,” Moira cried out, swept into the turbulence of his passion.

A bubble of laughter gurgled from Jack’s throat as he bore her down on the bed, covering her with his body. But laughter fled abruptly as his face grew stark and tense with hunger and his eyes became shards of pure silver. “I want you again, Moira.”

Before Moira could form an answer, he rose gracefully, dipped a cloth into the water pitcher resting on a nearby table and returned swiftly to her side. Moira gave a gasp of shock as he spread her legs and proceeded to wash away traces of blood and seed. When he finished, he tossed the cloth aside, lay down beside her and kneaded her breast gently with his palm.
Before leaning over to kiss her, he whispered, “You have the kind of beauty that leads men to madness. I knew you were pure temptation the moment I laid eyes on you.”