The Silver Coin (28 page)

Her smile was tremulous. “I’m glad.”

“Are you?” It was a lost cause, and he knew it. He was already reaching around to dispense with the buttons of her gown, frantic to have her in his arms, under his body. “First, we should be talking about the future. What you need, what you deserve”

“We’ll do that later. What I need now is you.”

Something inside Royce snapped.

He swept Breanna up into his arms, placed her on the rug in front of the fire, and followed her down. His mouth devoured hers, leaving it only to blaze kisses down her throat and neck to the top of her bodice. His fingers finished their task, and he tugged down her gown, his mouth continuing its journey even as his fingers shifted to the ribbons of her chemise.

His lips surrounded her nipple, and he tugged at it, first through the barrier of her chemise and then beneath it. He lost himself in her flavor, his tongue lashing across one hardened peak and then the other, and he reveled in her cries of pleasure, the uninhibited motions of her body.

His hands were shaking as he dragged away her clothing, tearing the delicate material in his frantic haste to have her naked.

When he finished his task, he sat back on his heels and stared.

She was breathtaking, more beautiful than even his fantasies had evoked. There were no words profound enough to express his feelings, so he settled for making love to her with his eyes, drinking in the glow of her skin by firelight, the perfect curves and hollows that she’d offered only to him.

God, he was blessed.

“Royce?” She reached for him, not with uncertainty, but with eagerness. “Please—”

“Have you any idea how beautiful you are?” he choked out, letting his hands explore her, stroking upwards from her legs to her hips, then higher to cup her breasts, whispering over the tender points of her nipples. “Any idea?” He absorbed her quivering sigh, his hands retracing their journey, this time pausing to caress her thighs, to part them to his touch “You humble me.” He brushed the auburn cloud that beckoned him, first lightly, then more intimately, his fingers opening her, gliding inside to explore the velvety folds.

She was so perfect, Royce thought he’d die from it. He repeated the caress, and Breanna cried out, arching against his hand, her entire body responding to the new, unbearably erotic sensation.

Royce’s fingers slid deeper, pushing into her gradually, his entire body pulsing with a need so acute, he actually wondered if he might spill himself before ever getting his breeches off.

Breanna provided that answer.

When she inadvertently tightened around him, warm and wet, tiny tremors shimmering through her, he regained control—only to feel it slipping away again.

Shoving himself to his feet, he tore off his clothes, scarcely giving her time to breathe before he covered her body with his. He moved against her, torturing himself with the motion, then kissing her fiercely as he repeated it.

Breanna undulated beneath him, rubbing her breasts against his chest, urging her lower body up to his, and wrapping her arms around his back.

“Don’t.” He shuddered. “God, Breanna, don’t.”

“Why?” she whispered breathlessly. “It feels so good.”

He tore his mouth away, stared down at her through a red haze of passion. “Because I want you too much. I’m not going to be able to hold back.” Another shudder. “I already can’t hold back.”

“I don’t want you to.” She caressed his spine, traced the taut muscles of his back. “Please, no holding back.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

“No you won’t.” She arched restlessly beneath him. “Tell me what to do.”

“Just… yes …” he grated out, as her thighs parted beneath him. He nudged them farther apart, settling himself in the cradle between them, his rigid shaft finding the heated entrance to her body.

“Like this?” she whispered, raising her knees to hug his flanks.

“God … yes.” He was already crowding into her, his hips moving reflexively, blatantly ignoring the dictates of his mind, which warned him how small she was, how delicate and tight. As if to further test him, Breanna melted around him, hot and clinging, stretching to take him deeper, her soft moans of pleasure obliterating any hope his mind had of regaining control. “Sweetheart…”

“Make love to me,” she breathed, her hands gliding down to the base of his spine, as if that motion alone would be enough.

It was.

Cupping her bottom, Royce pushed into her, reached the barrier of her innocence, then thrust beyond it. He sank into her, sweat drenching his body as he buried himself inside her the way he’d burned to do from the start.

Breanna tensed, instinctively biting back her cry of pain—which gave Royce the strength he needed to wait.

“Don’t,” he said fiercely, raising his head to look deeply into her eyes. “Don’t hide what you’re feeling—not your pleasure or your pain. No holding back.” Deliberately, he repeated the same phrase she’d spoken to him.

Slowly, she nodded, her body relaxing even as she did. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she murmured, wonder in her eyes. “It feels so… oh…” She cried out, this time with pleasure, as Royce drew back slightly, then pressed forward, sinking deeply into her.

“So incredible?” he finished for her.

“Yes incredible.” She urged his mouth back to hers. “Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t if my life depended on it.” He kissed her hungrily, beginning an exquisite motion of plunge and retreat that made the world spin away in a torrent of sensation.

Instinctively, Breanna understood the rhythm, and her hips lifted, undulating to meet each one of his quickening downward strokes.

A roaring commenced in Royce’s head, a passion he’d never known mingling with a love he’d never imagined, his every nerve ending attuned to Breanna, and to the engulfing culmination that hovered just beyond their reach.

“Royce…” She was frantic now, her inner muscles taut, slick with need, her nails scoring his back as she struggled for that elusive peak she couldn’t yet fathom but was desperate to capture.

Beyond conscious thought, Royce simply reacted, hooking his elbows beneath her knees and pulling her legs up higher around him, opening her fully to his possession.

He penetrated her with one deep, inexorable stroke, then another—this time caressing her inside and out, only to do it again and again and again

Breanna plunged over the edge.

She arched wildly, a dazed, stunned look widening her eyes as she reached the pinnacle of sensation, and fell.

Royce covered her mouth with his, swallowing her sharp cry of pleasure and shuddering as her hard spasms gripped him, spiraling out from deep inside her—quickening in pace, intensifying in strength— clenching his engorged shaft until he could take no more.

He climaxed violently, his own release slamming through him with the force of a blow. Biting back a shout, he gave in to the wildness, his hips moving convulsively as he poured himself into her, each burst of completion more powerful than the last.

The moment seemed to go on forever, tiny aftershocks of Breanna’s climax rippling over him, triggering yet another burst of wetness as the last of his seed emptied into her.

Then… peace.

Royce collapsed on top of her, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, his body blanketing hers. The room was silent, but for the crackling of the fire and the harsh, rasping sounds of their breaths.

Sanity returned in increments and, slowly, Royce became aware of his surroundings. Beneath him, Breanna sighed, her legs unclenching and sliding down to sink into the rug, her arms going lax around him. Her breathing was still ragged and, abruptly, he realized she was trembling.

“Breanna?” He tried, unsuccessfully, to lift his head, and settled for murmuring in her ear instead. “Sweetheart?”

“Mmm,” was the muffled reply.

“You’re shaking.”

“And you’re astonishing.”

He smiled at the dreamy quality to her voice. “That compliment belongs to you. I think I’m half-dead.”

“No, you’re not.” Her fingers trailed lightly down his back. “I can vouch for that.”

He kissed her neck. “Am I crushing you?”

“Only in the most wonderful way.”

Forcing himself to move, Royce rolled to one side, taking Breanna with him and keeping their bodies tightly joined. Then, he groped around until he found the blanket he’d seen lying near the armchair, pulling it over them until they were securely covered. “How’s that?”

“Ummm,” she responded, snuggling closer and rubbing her thigh over his with that innate sensuality he found so unbearably arousing. “That’s perfect.”

He cupped her face between his palms, studied her intently. “Does it hurt?”

She shook her head, sending masses of her newly freed hair tumbling about. “Not even a bit. It feels,” she wriggled slightly, taking him deeper into her, “more right than I can say.”

Royce felt his body leap in response—an astounding fact considering that minutes ago he thought himself incapable of moving, much less making love.

More astounding was the emotion that accompanied it.

“Breanna,” he said, determination lacing his words. “I meant what I said earlier. We need to talk. To make plans. The minute I eliminate that bastard who’s after you, I’m dragging you off and putting a wedding ring on your hand.”

She traced his lips with her fingertips. “You’ll get no argument from me.” A pause. “AlthoughIreally meant it when I said I didn’t expect you to decide our future right away. Love is one thing, marriage quite another. You’re a very independent man, Royce. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re sacrificing that independence.”

“If you’re telling me not to need you, don’t bother. It’s too late.” Royce kissed her fingertips. “I don’t feel less independent. I feel lucky.” A heartbeat of a pause. “And I want to give you everything you deserve.”

“Including a depth of emotion you’re still not sure you’re capable of,” she replied astutely. “Well, you might not be sure, but I am. And I happen to be a very wise woman.”

Royce chuckled, tangling his hands in her glorious auburn hair and kissing her tenderly. “Yes, you are.”

She wrapped her arms about his neck. “I love you,” she whispered.

Royce’s eyes darkened with emotion. “I didn’t realize what I was missing. Now I do.” His palm slid around to caress her nape. “You’re the most beautiful, courageous—”

“Surprising?” Breanna added with a shaky laugh. “I’ve never been so forward in all my life. I still can’t believe I just seduced you.”

One dark brow rose. “Is that what happened? Funny, I recall it being very mutual.”

“But I initiated it. I think there was a part of me that knew it would happen the minute I stepped into the hallway.” She gave a dazed shake of her head. “My heart was pounding when I walked out there. Because I was determined to tell you that I love you. I’m sure you’ve guessed I’m rarely so audacious. In fact, I can only think of one other time I shocked myself as thoroughly as I did tonight.”

“When was that?”

“When I held my father at gunpoint.”

Royce propped himself on one elbow, feeling more intrigued than stunned. “Was that when he was going after Anastasia?”

A nod. “He planned on selling her. He meant to ship her off to some animal named Rouge, who sold women as prostitutes. And he was going to beat me until I told him her whereabouts. I couldn’t allow any of that. Something inside me just snapped.” She inclined her head, gazing thoughtfully up at Royce. “I often relive that moment. And I wonder what I would have done if he’d disregarded my threats and continued advancing toward me. Would I have pulled the trigger? I honestly don’t think I could have—not then. Maybe because he’s my father, and maybe because I hadn’t yet actually heard him hire an assassin to doawaywith Stacie. If I already had, or if I’d seen Father either hurt Stacie or shove her onto that ship bound for Calais, my anger might have won out over my reticence. I don’t know.”

She inhaled shakily. “But with the assassin, it’s different. He’s a cold-blooded killer who’s made it flagrantly clear he intends to murder Stacie and her unborn child. In his case … Royce, I think I could shoot to kill.”

In response, Royce’s jaw clenched. “I know you could,” he replied, that fierce mixture of pride and protectiveness welling up inside him. “But you wouldn’t be able to do it fast enough. I’d beat you to it. Because I’m the one who’s going to kill that bastard.”

A tiny shiver went through Breanna, as if some premonition told her that’s precisely how it would happen.

Blindly, as if to ward off the ugliness of their discussion, she reached up, twined her arms around Royce’s neck. “No more.” She tugged his mouth down to hers, obliterating all talk of the assassin by rekindling the beauty they’d just shared. “No more talk about him tonight” She pressed closer, slurring her hips ever so slightly, drawing Royce into her melting warmth. “Tonight is ours,” she whispered. “I want nothing else to intrude.”

Royce responded with an overwhelming urgency his body hardening to rigid fullness, swelling to fill hers. “It won’t,” he murmured, rolling her to her back, pressing deep inside her. “Not tonight. Notever.”

“You’re saying there’s no connection among the victims, at least notf inancially,” Royce stated, taking a healthy swallowof brandy and leaning against the sitting-room mantel, regarding Hibbert, who’djust returned from his investigative excursion.

“None.” Hibbert settled himself in a chair, and glanced through his notes. “Except that they all lived in London and were all affluent.”

“What about their wills?”

“Four separate solicitors drew them up. I spoke with all of them. They had nothing substantial to offer in the way of information. As for the beneficiaries, none were common among the victims. Each of the wives stood to inherit first. But, in the event the wives died before they did, each gentleman made different provisions. In two of the cases, the estates were bequeathed to grown daughters by a previous marriage, in one case to a grown nephew. In the case of Lord Hart, it was left to a son he’d sired with one of his mistresses.”

Royce frowned. “Nothing to the children they shared with their current wives?”