Simply Voracious (4 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance

BOOK: Simply Voracious
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St. Clare’s mouth quirked up at the corner. It was one of the things Constantine liked most about him, his ability to joke about the absurdities of life. “I’m not quite as beautiful as you are.”

Constantine smoothed a hand over the ragged sword scar at his hip. “I’m hardly perfect.” He waited as St. Clare shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat and started on the buttons of his shirt. “May I help you?”

“Of course. Can you undo the cuffs of my shirt? I don’t think you’ll have any problems with them.”

Constantine obliged, and St. Clare pulled the shirt over his head, emerging with his hair sticking up like a blond brush. He sat on the bed and braced his booted foot against the bedpost to remove his footwear and stockings. All that remained were his breeches, which he shed quickly and tossed toward the nearest chair. He was finely built, all slight grace and hard muscle, a sharp contrast to Constantine’s broader frame.

Constantine reached out and touched St. Clare’s back. “Did this happen to you when you were imprisoned? The scars from a flogging always take a long time to heal.”

“I doubt they’ll ever disappear,” St. Clare answered. “And with my disrespect for authority, I’m quite used to being beaten.”

“Your school system is barbaric,” Constantine murmured as he joined St. Clare on the bed. “I’m surprised any of you survived it.”

“At least surviving it meant we were well prepared for the horrors of war. My uncle once told me that the system was based on the Spartan
agoge
.”

Constantine traced a line down St. Clare’s sternum. “With your shield, or on it, eh? That makes a terrible kind of sense.” He bent to press a kiss over St. Clare’s heart. “By the way, you may call me Constantine, or Con, if you prefer.”

“And you may call me Paul.” St. Clare’s quiet chuckle resonated through his chest. “I’m not sure I dare call you by your given name. You will always be Lieutenant Colonel to me.”

Constantine cupped the other man’s balls. “Not if you sell out. I think I’d prefer it if you did.”

Paul sighed. “I might have no choice. My uncle has already suggested it, and with the current peace, I’m hardly likely to be needed unless I go to India or those damned ex-colonies.”

Constantine stroked his thumb along the soft skin on the underside of Paul’s thickening cock. “I’d prefer you to stay here.”

“Still giving me orders, sir?”

Constantine raised himself up on one elbow and licked delicately at the tip of Paul’s cock. “I believe I am. Now perhaps you should lie back and do exactly what you are told.”

3

L
ucky didn’t want to go to the theater, but her mother had refused to listen to her excuses and practically ordered her into the carriage. Sometimes it was easier to obey than to think up another pathetic reason for not wanting to leave the house. At least she might meet with Emily and share her worries without her mother overhearing.

Emily, her brother Richard, and their father were already awaiting them in their box. Lucinda curtsied as Richard bent over her gloved hand and kissed it. He was a pleasant man with a distinct look of Emily and their father, Lord Philip Knowles. She suspected little ruffled Richard’s calm composure, and wondered anew how he felt stuck in the middle of the colorful and often scandalous Delornay-Ross clan.

“Lady Lucinda, such a pleasure.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Are you looking forward to the performance? I understand from Emily that Shakespeare is a favorite of yours.”

“Indeed he is,” Lucinda replied as she sat down and opened her fan. “And I particularly enjoy
As You Like It
.”

“So do I,” Richard replied. “I believe Emily is most enamored of
Romeo and Juliet.

Emily took the seat on Lucinda’s other side. “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, my dear sister, if your idea of true love is a double suicide.”

Emily fixed him with a quelling stare. “It is
romantic,
Richard. Don’t you understand anything?” She nudged Lucinda. “Isn’t it, Lucky. Tell him.”

In the throes of dealing with her own destroyed romance, and realizing that in reality the drama of suicide would only destroy her family further, Lucinda hesitated.

“Lucky!” Emily exclaimed. “How can you not agree with me?”

Richard reached across and patted his sister’s gloved hand. “Mayhap Lady Lucinda has a little more common sense than you do, Emily.”

Emily was staring at Lucinda. “Maybe she has. . . .”

Lucinda avoided her friend’s gaze and stared out over the glittering theater. Almost a week had passed since the unfortunate incident at the ball, and she still hadn’t decided what to do about Jeremy. Of course, she’d stayed home like the coward she was, so he’d had no opportunity to accost her anyway. Her gaze scanned the crowds. Was he out there somewhere, just waiting for the opportunity to talk to her?

A loud clashing sound made her jump and look toward the orchestra pit, where the conductor had just taken his place on the podium. The small orchestra started playing and the lights in the theater were extinguished as the curtain rose on an all-too-familiar scene.

Lucinda forced herself to relax. Even if Jeremy was here, there was nothing he could do to spoil her enjoyment of the play—at least until the interval. She snapped her fan shut and placed it in her lap. In truth, she was tired of feeling powerless and hiding from him. Perhaps it was time to be brave and face him after all.

 

When the curtains shut after the first act, she turned to Emily, who was enthusiastically applauding.

“Will you walk out with me? I’m feeling a little restless.”

“If you wish.” Emily raised her voice in the direction of her father, who was deep in conversation with the duchess. “Papa, Lucinda and I are going for a stroll. We’ll be back shortly.”

Before her mother could object, Lucinda headed for the door. The narrow corridor between the boxes was jammed tightly with people either exiting or visiting other playgoers. Lucinda managed to fight her way through the throng to the slightly less crowded landing and turned to look for Emily.

Before she could spot Emily, someone cupped her elbow, and Lucinda had to fight the impulse to shriek and pull away. She looked up into the pleasant face of her rescuer from the ball on the previous week.

“I thought it was you, ma’am. Have you recovered from your ordeal?”

Lucinda could detect no hint of sarcasm or condescension either in his question or in his expression, only a genuine desire to see if she was all right. In the brilliant light from the chandeliers, she could now see how handsome her rescuer truly was, and how young despite the whiteness of his hair. When had his hair turned that color? Why couldn’t she have met him before she met Jeremy? One direct look from this man made her realize how mistaken she’d been in thinking Jeremy was either strong or honest.

“I’m quite well, sir,” Lucinda murmured. “And thank you again for your assistance.”

“It was nothing, ma’am.” He smiled and kissed her gloved hand. “I’m just pleased to see that you are well.” His attention drifted over her shoulder. “Ah, here comes your good friend, Miss Ross. At least I know I am leaving you in good hands again.”

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Emily said cheerfully. “Are you enjoying the play?”

When her soldier turned to Emily, Lucinda was all too conscious of the loss of his warm grip on her hand. How strange that his touch didn’t frighten her, while she dreaded even breathing the same air as Jeremy again.

“Indeed I am, Miss Ross.” He bowed and briefly held Emily’s hand. “How is your family? I understand that your sister has recently married one of my past officers.”

“That is correct, sir. Lisette is currently up in Cheshire being introduced to the Swanfield family estates.”

“Then I wish her and Swanfield much happiness.”

Lucinda watched him smile and envied Emily both her ease of address and her large acquaintance. Before her fall from grace, Lucinda would’ve barely waited until the lieutenant colonel walked away before bombarding Emily with demands for all the salient details about his marital state and prospects. Now it was too late. What would a man like him ever see in her?

He turned back as if he’d sensed her distress. “Well, it was a pleasure to see you again, and in such improved spirits, ma’am.”

“It’s ‘my lady,’ ” Lucinda murmured. “I’m not married.” As soon as she spoke, she blushed at the absurdity of even mentioning such a stupid detail.

He brought her hand to his lips again. “My lady, then, but still a pleasure.” He nodded at Emily. “Good-bye, Miss Ross.”

He turned and walked back into the crowd, leaving Lucinda staring after him. Emily drew her arm through Lucky’s and walked them over to one of the long windows.

“Constantine Delinsky is a lovely man, isn’t he? I’ve no idea why he hasn’t married. He must be past thirty now.”

Constantine
. . . Lucinda sighed. “He is indeed lovely.”

“And not married.”

“Have you set your cap at him then, Emily?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve known him for several years, and he’s never so much as glanced my way.” She paused. “He seemed far more interested in you.”

“Only because he sees himself as my knight in shining armor.”

“I think it is more than that. Would you like me to introduce you to him properly next time we meet? I wasn’t sure if you wished to reveal your true identity.”

“I don’t. It’s better if he forgets all about me.”

Emily touched her cheek. “Oh, Lucky, just because you were kissed at the bottom of the garden and ripped your dress running away doesn’t mean you are sunk below reproach. I’ve done far worse than that.”

But it was easy for Emily to say that. With her eclectic family, she wasn’t subject to the same strict rules Lucinda had to abide by. The conduct of the daughter of a duke must be above reproach, and so far she had failed miserably at that.

Emily’s gaze narrowed. “That
was
all that happened, wasn’t it, Lucky? Helene wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Lucinda went to reply and then saw Jeremy gesticulating at her over Emily’s shoulder. Her smile faltered and panic warred with anger at his casual belief that she would come when he called her. But if she didn’t face him now, would he think he had won? She had to deal with him at some point, and now that she knew what his handsome exterior concealed she would be on her guard.

Lucinda patted her best friend’s hand. “We should be getting back. I’ll need to visit the necessary, so I’ll meet you at the box.”

“I can wait for you, if you like,” Emily offered.

“No, I’ll be fine.” Lucinda gathered her skirts and headed for the staircase Jeremy had already descended.

He caught her midway down the stairs and drew her onto a narrow landing behind a curtain that concealed a locked exit door. She had no desire to be alone with him for even a second, but it seemed she had no choice.

“Lucinda, my dear.”

“Good evening, Mr. Roland.”

Lucinda stared up at his familiar face and it was as if the scales had fallen from her eyes. He looked older, anxious, and far less pleasant. Why hadn’t she noticed the tension running through him before, the lack of openness and the calculation in his stare?

“Lucinda, my
darling
.” He reached for her and she took a hasty step backward.

“Don’t touch me.”

He smiled at the sharpness of her tone. “You didn’t say that last time we met. In fact, I seem to remember you begging me to kiss you.”

“I was a fool.”

His smile widened and contained a mixture of triumph and pity that made Lucinda want to slap him. “I understand that you might be feeling a little guilty for throwing yourself at me like that, my love. But there is no need for remorse. I am quite willing to marry you and cover up your indiscretion.”


My
indiscretion?” Lucinda gathered all her courage and forced herself to look into his eyes. She was so glad she’d spoken to Madame Helene. “I’m not willing to marry you at all. In fact, the very thought of it makes me want to puke.”

He studied her for a long moment and then smiled. “I don’t see that you have a choice. Do you want me to broadcast your shame to the
ton,
to your family, to your
father?

“The only thing I am ashamed of is being taken in by you.”

“You love me.”

“I do not.” She steadied her voice. “My father will never force me to marry you.”

“Are you so sure of that? He’s just assumed his new title. I doubt he’ll immediately want to deal with a scandal concerning his only child. It will affect the way he is seen by the elite forever.”

“My father will never force me to marry you.” Lucinda repeated her statement as calmly as she could with a confidence she was far from feeling. “He trusts me.”

“More fool him.” Jeremy gave a harsh laugh, all pretense of civility now gone. “I’ll give you another couple of days to consider your position, and then I’ll meet you again.”

“My position will not change, sir. I can assure you of that.”

“Brave words, my dear, but I’m not convinced you mean them,” he sneered. “I know how much your family means to you, and that you would rather die than besmirch your father’s honor.” He shoved his face close to hers. “And believe me, I’ll ruin you all if you don’t see sense and marry me.”

Even as Lucinda recoiled from the violence in his eyes, he spun on his heel, shoved the curtain aside, and stormed away. Lucinda leaned back against the wall, wiped his spittle from her face, and waited until her knees stopped trembling. The bell sounded, announcing the beginning of the second act, and she took a deep, steadying breath. If she was a true lady, shouldn’t she be swooning at her despoiler’s feet instead of thinking up ways of killing him? In truth, her lack of sensibility seemed a blessing at this moment.

If she didn’t return to the box, her mother would become anxious, and that was to be avoided at all costs.

She started to walk back up the stairs. Jeremy was right about one thing: She would do anything to avoid upsetting her parents, particularly her father. He had so much to deal with at the moment. His new ducal responsibilities and his government appointments made for a heavy burden she had no wish to add to.

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