The Love Affair of an English Lord (31 page)

At last he moved over her. His own need had grown too great to control. He heard her whispering his name, her body straining. He caught her hands over her head and stared down into her eyes. She bit the edge of her lower lip.

“What are you doing to me, Dominic?”

“Whatever I feel like. Any objections?”

She closed her eyes, gave a breathy sigh. “None at all.”

He eased the thick head of his shaft into her cleft. She was so dewy and warm he almost exploded on the spot. He arched his back and drove inside her passage with a powerful thrust.

“Dominic.”

She caught her breath. He thrust again, deeper, deeper, until there was no breath left in her body. She surged upward, meeting him, only to subside with a gasp of pleasure. He drove his tongue into her mouth to deepen their kiss, pumping himself into her wet sheath with abandon. She locked her legs around his hips, absorbing the impact of his body. He could not stop himself. He was impaling her to the bed, lost in her, his hips flexing in a relentless rhythm.

He had never needed her more than he did now. Her body not only welcomed him, but encouraged him, gloving him so perfectly that he had to slow his movements or he would tear her into pieces. This was elemental, a storm out of control and yet in harmony with all of nature, a beautiful fury. He fought to keep himself in check.

“What a woman you are, Chloe,” he whispered hoarsely, lifting her legs up over his shoulders to give him better access.

“Your woman,” she whispered back.

Her voice, husky with pleasure, urged him to bury himself even deeper. When she began to move against him, he wanted to growl with pleasure. He threw back his head and braced his body for a climax that seemed to be wrung from his very soul. He could feel her splintering beneath him, feel the damp suction of her squeezing him dry.

He heard her sweet cry of pleasure as he poured his seed into her. She looked so beautiful, gave herself to him so unhesitantly that he would have moved heaven and earth to keep her. He loved her so much it frightened him, and yet the thought of not having her in his life was unbearable.

She smiled up at him, tendrils of damp black hair caressing her cheeks. Her vibrant blue eyes reassured him that she shared his intense feelings. They had been meant for each other. Finding her had been the one good thing that had come out of the tragedy of Brandon and Samuel's brutal deaths.

“That was quite a lesson in seduction you learned, Chloe Boscastle,” he said softly. “Remind me to thank Audrey later.”

Chloe could not even find the strength to tease him back. The dark passion in his eyes, the love, immobilized her. She felt his burning gaze to the core of her being. He made no secret of his desire, his emotions, and even now she could feel herself responding to him all over again. That was how it was between them, would always be. One look from Dominic, and she came apart.

He was different than when she had first met him. He had changed. They both had. He had risked his life for what he believed in; she had risked her reputation because she believed in him. Tonight she could even feel the difference in the way he had made love to her. He was stronger, more sure of himself. He would never completely return to acting the perfect gentleman who lived within the rules of Society. There would always be a little wildness, a rebel, in both of them. But only with Dominic could Chloe at last begin to find peace from her own restless nature and the spells of sadness that had overshadowed her in recent years. They deserved the happiness that awaited them.

“So thoughtful, Chloe,” he said quietly, rolling onto his side to look at her. “I didn't hurt you, did I? For a while there I lost complete control.”

She sighed in contentment, snuggling against him as if she could stay in his arms forever. “I'm fine, Dominic. Are we going to sleep here tonight?”

He subjected her to a rueful smile. His body was hardening again as he held her. He could not get enough of her, and knowing that she would soon be at his side night and day only intensified his need for her. He sucked in his breath as her hands began to explore his body.

“You aren't sleeping here at all, Chloe. At least not tonight.”

Her hands stilled their arousing quest. “Why not?”

“Because, my darling temptress, I made a promise to your family only this morning that I would protect you, and so far I fear I have fallen short of that goal.”

She gripped his hips in her hands, her blue eyes narrowing. “Are you really going to make me leave?”

The possessiveness of her touch sent a thrill of heat through him. “I'm afraid I am.”

“Right now?”

She sprawled back against the pillows, deliberately inviting, testing her power over him. His throat tightened as he stared at her invitingly posed body, studying her through heavily lidded eyes. Her desire for him inflamed him. What man would not respond to her lush sensuality?

He moved over her, kissing her breasts, then her quivering belly, the tangled curls of her sex. He felt her resist this new invasion, raising her hips off the bed, but he was faster, pinning her down easily with one hand. He nudged her completely open with his other hand, blowing lightly against her swollen cleft. Chloe trembled uncontrollably, twining her fingers in his hair. Her excitement intoxicated him. When his tongue penetrated her sensitive folds of flesh, she gave the sweetest groan he had ever heard.

The taste of her, her honeyed moisture, made him hungry for more. He buried his face between her legs, pushing her knees farther apart, licking her.

“Dominic,”
Chloe said in a strangled voice, twisting futilely against the hand that held her down.

He nibbled tenderly at the nub of her clitoris, his tongue stabbing deeper and deeper inside her passage. Chloe had subsided back onto the bed with her face in the pillow. Her entire body trembled with pleasure until the moment when he pushed her over the edge, and she convulsed in helpless abandon against his face.

“God help me, Chloe,” he muttered, dropping his head down on the bed. If he did not take her home soon, her family would be at the door, demanding her safe return.

She sat up, looking dazed, tousled, her black curls damp around her face. “What did you just do to me?”

He grinned up at her. “Didn't you like it?”

“What do you think, you devil?”

He reared up, his erection painful. “It's a damn good thing I have work to do tonight. I won't be able to sleep after this.”

“Are you really going to take me home?” she demanded.

“I shall deliver you safely to the doorstep.” He slid off the bed to struggle back into his pantaloons. “Put your dress back on, Chloe.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Then I shall have to throw you over my shoulders as you are and let your brothers figure out how to dress you.”

She threw a pillow at him. “That's a nice way to restore our respectability, parading me bare-bottomed through the streets of London.”

Yet less than an hour later Dominic made good his promise to take her home, and Chloe stood, fully dressed, in front of him on the doorstep of Grayson's elegant mansion. Apparently accustomed to situations that would shock the average servant, the Boscastle butler did not blink an eye.

Nor did Heath, who sauntered out of the library to greet his sister, a book in hand. “Ah, Chloe. Our black lamb home at last.” He glanced up past her to the dark figure who stood behind her like a sentinel. “Thank you, Dominic.”

Dominic nodded, reading approval for bringing her back in Heath's eyes. “I'm sorry if you were worried.”

“Actually, I wasn't. I knew she was with you and that you would bring her home in due time. Do stay a while. I have a few things I'd like to talk to you about alone.”

Chloe looked indignant. “How did you know where I was? Did Jane spill the soup?”

“Of course Jane did nothing of the kind,” said the marchioness herself from the middle of the staircase. “I would not betray you even under penalty of torture. The coachman, however, is another matter.” She swept down the remaining stairs in a silver dressing robe and pearl-seeded slippers. “So, Chloe, how was your visit with dear Aunt Rosemary?”

Chloe hid a smile as she slipped around Heath. “The poor thing was exhausted by my company. She begged me to leave so that she could rest.”

Dominic's eyes widened. The shameless little baggage, mocking his virility to the world. As if Heath and Jane had no idea who “Aunt Rosemary” was and exactly what Chloe had done to overexert the old dear. He would show her overexertion the next time she came to his bed.

Jane's eyes danced with delight. “Do come up and share your visit with me. Did you fire off any Congreve rockets?”

Chloe smothered a giggle. “At least one,” she said mischievously as she followed her sister-in-law up the stairs.

Dominic glanced disbelievingly at Heath. “Does that phrase mean what I'm afraid it means?”

Heath attempted not to laugh. “You might have to ask Grayson about that.”

“Yes.” Dominic shook his head in disbelief. “What was it you wished to discuss with me?”

Heath's amusement faded. “Come into the library, Dominic. We can talk in private there.”

 

Dominic cast an appraising glance around the room. Carved rosewood bookcases with brass-trellis doors stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. Rampant lions and plump amorini adorned the gilded stucco. A circular gilt mirror of Greek design hung over the chimneypiece. Below, a modest fire smoldered in the ornate marble fireplace.

He looked at the man sitting opposite him in an armchair. This was a room that suited the vigorous Marquess of Sedgecroft far more than his reserved, quiet-spoken brother. “I assume you have quite a few questions for me regarding Brandon. I shall offer as much information as I can, but I'm afraid I know little more than I have already revealed.”

Heath did not appear surprised. “There are many questions to be answered, yes. But not for you, perhaps. Your part is done, Dominic, and quite effectively, I have to admit.”

Dominic stared into the fire. “Sometimes it seemed I was possessed to the point of madness. I could think of nothing but revenge.” And Chloe, he mused, although this he could not add.

“All with good reason,” Heath said. “But often it takes a man possessed with a worthy objective to see justice served.”

“Which is where you will take over,” Dominic guessed, referring to Heath's involvement in British Intelligence. Was Heath still in commission? He did not ask, suspecting he would receive only an evasive answer. And was his own part truly done? He rather hoped so. He preferred to live the rest of his life in peace.

Heath shrugged. “I don't know whether I shall be involved in a formal investigation. Personally, I have questions that I will seek to answer. Officially, I am not sure whether I will be needed. As close as I was to Brandon, I did not know his involvement in espionage was as dangerous as it was. I suppose he wanted to prove himself without help from his family.”

Dominic reached into his vest pocket. “I appreciate you sending me Chloe's translation of Brandon's coded letter.”

“I should very much like to see the original,” Heath said, leaning forward with his hand outstretched. “Is that it?”

“Yes. I confess I am a better swordsman than cryptographer.”

“And a damn good thing for all of us,” Heath said with feeling as he tucked the letter into his pocket.

Dominic paused. “Where do you suppose the other half of the message is? It ended on a rather ominous note. The more I think about it, the warning could have been meant for any of us.”

“Indeed,” Heath said darkly.

“Edgar could not have worked alone.”

“No. That is the troubling part of what is left on our hands. Perhaps the men who helped him are still in military service. One of my superiors believes there might be a soldier, subaltern, who could testify that he saw Edgar exchange information with a French spy in—”

Heath stopped in midsentence as the door opened behind Dominic. It was Grayson, dressed only in his shirt, pantaloons, and boots, a bottle of brandy in hand. He looked pleasantly surprised to see the two other men sitting alone.

“Stealing a few moments of peace, are we? Not a bad idea, considering how the females of the family tend to dominate our lives.” He looked directly at Dominic. “A fate I suspect you are only
beginning
to learn.”

“Pour Dominic a brandy, Gray,” Heath said with a smile. “He needs a few moments in male company to prepare him for the weeks ahead.”

“The weeks ahead?” Dominic took the brandy glass that the marquess had removed from the lacquered Chinese cabinet. “Is there some sort of secret initiation into the family that Chloe failed to warn me about?”

The two other men chuckled. “The wedding preparations,” Grayson said as he took his chair.

Apparently Heath did not drink. He removed a cigar from his pocket instead. “Emma is in her element planning every last detail. I trust you do not mind.”

“It's Chloe who should be consulted,” Dominic said without thinking. “As for me, I should happily marry her in a meadow.” He looked a little embarrassed when he realized what he had revealed, that he wanted Chloe as his wife whatever he must do to claim her.

Grayson did not seem at all offended. Perhaps he was so besotted with his intriguing Jane that he understood. Heath's reaction was harder to interpret. He did not appear to show his feelings easily.

“Alas,” Heath said, “once the idea of a wedding was put in Emma's mind it ceased to be a matter of what you or Chloe desired.”

Dominic laughed. “Should I be frightened?”

“You should run for your life,” Grayson confided.

“Speaking of running away,” Heath remarked as he lit his cigar, “where the blazes has Adrian gone? I'd only learned he was in England days ago, and now he's disappeared.”