Wolfsgate (44 page)

“No,” she replied. “I know that’s what you want.” But she wanted the last word.
Just this once.
“The answer to your first question, William, is also no.”

His eyes glittered over her. “No?”

“We don’t think of you at all when we’re fucking.”

William’s eyes widened, his brittle laughter ringing out in the hallway. “Oh, Tina. You are remarkable indeed.”

“Get away from my wife,” Brandon’s growl rose from the other side of the hall.

William turned to face his cousin, his neck stiffening. “There you are. The money?”

“There is no money for you, you bastard. Not ever.”

William’s face darkened. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“I know what it means for Amanda,” Brandon said. “This has all been about Amanda, from the beginning. Her pleasures, her debts. No more. Find a way to take care of your wife’s little problem on your own.”

William’s hand passed over his waistcoat. “There is no problem.”

“I’ve seen the bills, cousin, looked into the rumors. There’s a big problem.”

“You did what?” William’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, then, of course, there are her things with other men.”

“Things?”

“Sorry, did I say ‘things?’” Brandon smiled. “I meant flings. Your wife’s flings with other men.”

William’s face turned hard as stone. “You bastard!” He launched himself at Brandon.

Brandon pushed Justine out of the way and shoved William back against the wall. “Yes, William. While you’ve been working hard to save her reputation and your own by clearing her debts, the ungrateful bitch has been entertaining herself with other men. I suppose you’ve been too busy to notice? But you noticed how much she wanted me, didn’t you?”

Justine gasped. “Brandon, stop!”

William sputtered and flung himself at Brandon once again, and Justine stumbled back. William punched Brandon in the chest, but Brandon’s fist landed on the side of his cousin’s jaw, knocking him back. William grunted with the pain and staggered to the side.

“What is this? What is going on?” Amanda rushed into the hall, her eyes wide, her cape in her arms. “What are you two doing? This is ridiculous! Thank God everyone’s left and no one’s here to witness it!”

Brandon burst out into laughter. Justine slipped an arm around his torso, the other at his chest.

William stiffened his shoulders and glared at his wife. “Wait for me outside.” She only stared at him, her cheeks flushed. “Do as I say! Go!” Amanda turned on her heel and sped out the door.

William wiped at the side of his mouth. “All I ever wanted was to protect this family.”

“No, you wanted to protect your interests, your name,” Brandon said. “Our definition of family, cousin, is quite, quite different.”

“Is everything alright, milady?” asked Lizzie as she relieved Justine of her gown. “That was quite a to-do before.”

Justine kicked off her shoes and rolled down her stockings, removing them. “Everything’s fine.” She entered the bedchamber and caught her reflection in the large looking glass over the chest of drawers. She still wore the jewelry. She worked the clasp of the bracelet, and the door flew open. Brandon stood in the doorway, his eyes on Justine. Lizzie swept through the room and stopped abruptly.

“Go,” Brandon said, his voice low, his eyes blazing.

Lizzie’s bowed to both of them and darted from the chamber.

Brandon shut the door behind her, pressing his hand against it as if to make sure it was secure. His necktie hung loose, his shirt open, revealing his bare chest.

“Did William upset you?” he asked.

“No.”

He came up behind her. “He has a peculiar way of speaking to you.”

Justine returned her attention to the bracelet. “He always has. I don’t think that will ever change.” The clasp finally unhooked.

Brandon breathed deep and leaned closer to her, his gaze on her reflection in the mirror. “He called you Tina.”

She lay the bracelet on the marble top of the chest. Brandon trailed a finger down her back, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

“He seems to know how to hurt you, and I want to hurt him for it.”

“Brandon—”

“I know. You don’t want me to go after him.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t.”

“I won’t. I won’t break that promise because it’s important to you. You are important to me.”

Her hands went around her neck to the clasp of the necklace, but he stopped them, his fingers wrapping around hers. “Stay with me, Jus. You must. Let me take care of you now.”

“I’ve lied to you,” her voice shook as she spoke. “Surely you must feel contempt for me, a measure of disgust.”

He released her hands. “Don’t ever use that word again.”

Her brow knit together. “It’s true—”

“No, it’s not. That’s not what I feel when I look at you. I admire you, Justine. I love you.”

“Brandon—”

“I love you.”

She gripped the edge of the chest, her body swaying slightly.

“Look at me.”

She raised her head and caught their reflection in the glass again.

“Only you,” he whispered. His fingers traced a line across her shoulder, up her neck to her ear. He tapped the rubies and diamonds that hung there. The earring swung, and he unscrewed it from her lobe and let it drop from his long fingers, crashing onto the marble top. The tip of his tongue traced a line of wet fire up her neck to her other ear, and there he bit the soft lobe, eliciting a whimper from her. Brandon released the other earring, and it too plummeted to the table with a crash.

“Only you.” His eyes darkened. “Look at us.” He leaned his head close to hers, and his fingers drew her face towards the glass once more. “What do you see?”

Her lips parted, but she did not speak. A tear spilled down her cheek.

“You see it, Jus. You feel it between us. So do I.”

She swallowed, her eyes glimmered with wet in the dim light of the candles.

“This is us.” Brandon’s voice was gentle. “No one and nothing can take that away, sweet thing. Not ever. Not things that happened in the past way before us, not people’s poisonous tongues today nor even tomorrow. Nothing.” His lips brushed her cool cheek and her chin lifted. “You have to believe in it, Justine. I do. You made me believe. With your goodness, your strength.” He turned his face into her neck and drank in her rose scent once more. “Let me be strong for you now, as a husband should. You need me to be,” he murmured against her skin. Her lower lip trembled slightly.

“I love you, Jus.” Brandon swept her hair from her neck and his fingers traced a feather-light line down her shoulders. “I’ve never felt this before. Never,” he whispered against the side of her throat. Justine inhaled his words.

He glanced up at their reflection in the looking glass, soaking in the silken pools of her brown eyes. “Let us have this. Do we not deserve it?”

Her chin lifted, her body suddenly stilled as if a new thought had occurred to her. She pulled her chemise over her head, freeing her body from the fine material and let it drop to the floor. The energy in the room changed, and the charge bolted through his chest. Justine stood naked before him except for his necklace glittering at her throat. Her sober gaze was pinned to his in the glass. His heart pressed against his ribs.

“Take me, Brandon,” she said in the half shadows. “Right here, I want to watch us doing it.”

The air was sucked out of him as if a tightly wound string that bound him had snapped, and he was let loose. Her fingers clutched the ends of the dresser as he unfastened his breeches. He raised her hips and slid his cock inside her silky wetness slowly. She let out a low moan, and he leaned over her back, planting a kiss on her soft skin.

“Justine…” It came out as a warning, because he did not think he could hold himself together too much longer. The blood pounded in his head and in his cock. He was fucking starved for her.

“Fill me, Brandon,” she whispered.

He drew himself up, and his one hand dug into her hair pulling it back. She gasped, her head arching up, her eyes melding with his in the looking glass. He rocked inside her as fully as he possibly could, yet every particle of his being cried out for more, more of his Justine. His eyes shut for a blinding instant.

“Look at me,” her husky voice demanded through his carnal fog.

Brandon raised his hooded gaze to hers in the mirror. Her lips were parted, her velvet eyes swirled in desire.

Desire for him.

“This is our revenge,” she whispered. “Our satisfaction, together.”

Brandon’s chest burst. He drove into her slickness and buried himself to the hilt, then pulled out slowly, relishing every sensation that ripped through him.

“Give me all of you, Bran. I want to feel you everywhere.”

He plunged back inside her. A grunt escaped his chest and he lost the last scrap of control he had left. He wrenched her hips higher and thrust deeper into her, moved faster, his eyes never leaving hers in the glass. She gasped for air as she pushed back into him. The necklace on her throat made thudding sounds against her chest as he slammed into her over and over again. The ruby earrings and the bracelet shook over the marble surface of the dresser before them. Justine yielded fully to his violence, welcoming it, needing it just as much as he did.

“Only you, Jus. Tell me. Tell me you believe me.”

“Brandon!”

That desperate, wild sound blasted the ache in his chest and vanquished it once and for all. He drove even quicker now into her shuddering body until the rising tide of sensation overwhelmed him. He gave himself over to it, to her, and came hard and fast inside his spectacular wife.

“
WHERE IS SHE, MOLLY? WHERE THE HELL COULD SHE BE
?”

Molly’s face creased. “I dinna see her, sir.”

The sun was setting and a harsh wind battered the window panes. Justine had not been seen all afternoon. It had been hours, in fact. “Where’s Simms?” Brandon asked his lips set in a firm line.

“I haven’t seen him either.”

Brandon had just come back from the stables, the freezing air still stinging his face. Justine’s horse, Persephone, was missing.

He cursed under his breath. Had she left him? She was stubborn, but no, no impossible. They had made love last night for what seemed like hours. Talked. Laughed in each other’s arms. It had been perfect. Perfect.

Had that been her way of saying goodbye?

His throat constricted. That trace of sadness, that distraction was still in her eyes. It was something she couldn’t yet let go of, and he couldn’t wipe it away just yet.

He tore up the stairs to their chamber and went straight to her dressing room. The doors to the closet hung open. His pulse thudded as he pushed one door back. Bloody hell. It had been full of frocks and skirts last night. Today it gaped at him, yawned at him half-empty.

No.

He stepped back and darted to the vanity table. The surface was clean, only her two perfume bottles and that small Prussian blue enamel box of her mother’s stood still on the surface. He yanked opened the drawers one after the other and dumped the jewelry boxes on the table, snapping them open. His mother’s earrings, the bracelet, the new emerald necklace. All of it. Still here. Her mother’s ring. The box for the wedding ring he bought her that day in the village was empty. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

His eyes darted to the enamel box. He lifted off the top.
Damn it to hell.
There it was. Justine’s wedding ring. The one he had chosen with her trembling at his side. The one she wore every day. He slumped against the table.

“Milord?” Molly clutched at her hands in the doorway.

“She’s gone.”

“She can’t be!”

“Did she tell you?”

“She said no such thing, she wouldna leave. This is her home!”

Brandon jammed the dresser against the wall knocking over the perfume bottles. The boxes shifted from the pile, tumbling, the diamonds and emeralds spilling over. He charged past Molly out of the room and out of the house.