Then came you, by lisa kleypas.txt Page 16

  Deciding to make him more comfortable, she untied his black cravat. The silk was still warm from his skin. Contemplating him silently, she unfastened his waistcoat and the top two buttons of his white linen shirt. Her knuckles brushed the taut skin at the base of his throat. An odd, pleasant shiver went through her.

  Wonderingly she touched his golden cheek, the stern edge of his jaw, the silky curve of his lower lip. The growth of his night-

  beard had begun to show, turning his jaw and chin into scratchy velvet against her fingertips. No fallen angel could have

  possessed a more compelling mixture of darkness and light. She saw the strain on his face, a tenseness that remained even in slumber. Too much drinking, too little sleep. And grief from long ago had cast its indelible shadow on his features.

  "We're alike in some ways, you and I," she murmured. "Pride, temper, and obstinacy. You'd move a mountain to get what you want . . . but you, my poor brute, don't even know where the mountain is." She grinned as she recalled the way he had tossed

  her clothes out the bedroom window.

  On a sudden impulse, she bent over him, gently pressing her lips to his. His mouth was warm, unresponsive. She thought of the crudely intimate way he had kissed her in the library. Lifting her head, she stared down at him with her nose almost touching

  his. "Wake up, sleeping prince," she murmured. "It's time for you to realize what I'm capable of."

  * * *

  Alex drifted slowly into wakefulness. Irritably he wondered who was pounding on a drum nearby . . . thump . . . thump . . . reverberating in his skull. He winced and turned his aching head against a cold, soothing pressure nearby. "There," came a low voice. "There, you'll be all right." Alex squinted his eyes open, and saw the outline of a woman's face above his. He thought he must be having another dream about Lily. Those were her eyes, the spicy color of gingerbread, and her mouth, curved into a disarming smile. He felt her soft fingertips trace over his cheek. "Damn you," he mumbled. "Will you haunt me forever?"

  Her smile deepened. "That's entirely up to you, my lord. No, don't move, you'll dislodge the ice. Your poor head. I tried to hit

  you as gently as possible. But I had to do it hard enough that a second time wouldn't be necessary."

  "Wh-what?" he asked groggily.

  "I hit you on the head."

  Alex blinked in dawning awareness, beginning to understand it was no dream. He remembered tearing into her house, coming

  to her room . . . the blow to his head. He gave a muffled curse. Lily was sitting cross-legged beside him. He was stretched

  out full length on a bed. For all Lily's show of calm concern, there was a victorious look about her that caused his nerves to crackle with warning. "Henry—"

  "Don't worry, he's fine. Absolutely fine." She smiled reassuringly. "He's staying the night with a friend of mine."

  "Which friend?" he demanded. "Who?"

  Her gaze turned wary. "When I tell you, don't jump to conclusions. If I had the slightest doubt as to his well-being, I never

  would have—"

  He struggled to sit up. "Tell me who has him!"

  "Derek Craven."

  "That underworld swindler who surrounds himself with whores and thieves—"

  "Henry's absolutely safe with Derek, you have my w—"

  Lily broke off with a gasp, leaping from the bed as Alex reached for her with a snarl. "You bitch!" He was caught short by ropes that bound his wrists and ankles to the thick bedposts. Sharply his head snapped from right to left. He saw what she

  had done. Shock froze him from the inside out. Then he roared and began to tug in a storm of fury, causing the massive bed

  to tremble and creak. He fought the ropes like a wild beast experiencing confinement for the first time. Apprehensively Lily watched him. She relaxed as she saw that the sturdy bed frame would withstand the ferocious punishment. Finally Alex's struggle subsided. His lean frame was racked with labored gasps. "Why?" he demanded. "Why?"

  Lily eased back onto the bed and looked down at him, her smile a fraction less confident than before. In spite of her triumph, she didn't like the sight of him bound and helpless. It seemed unnatural. And the ropes had already chafed his wrists—she

  could see the redness his tugging was causing. "I've won, my lord," she said calmly. "You may as well accept it with good grace. I admit my tactics lacked sportsmanship . . . but all's fair, as they say." She rubbed the sore muscles at the back of

  her neck and yawned. "As we speak, Zachary Stamford is at Raiford Park. He'll spirit Penelope away to Gretna Green

  tonight, and they'll be married. I volunteered my services for the task of detaining you. By the time I release you, it will be too late for you to do anything. I couldn't let you have Penny, not when Zachary loves her so. He'll make her happy. As for you . . . your damaged pride will soon recover." She smiled into his bloodshot eyes. "I told you that you'd never have her. You should

  have taken my warning seriously." Her head tilted coquettishly as she waited for his response. Perhaps he would acknowledge it had been a game well-played. "Well?" she prompted, wanting her victory tribute. "I'm interested to hear your opinion of all this."

  It took Alex a long time to reply. When he did, his voice was nothing but a scratching rumble. "My opinion? You should start running. And never stop. And pray to God I never catch you."

  Only Alex Raiford could seem so menacing while tied hand and foot to a large piece of furniture. It was no idle threat. His words were laced with deadly purpose. Lily dismissed it blithely, deciding she could handle whatever trouble he might pose. "I've done you a great favor," she pointed out. "You're free to find someone else now. Someone far more suited to you than Penny."

  "I wanted your sister."

  "She never would have pleased you. Good God, you don't really want to marry a girl who would always be frightened of you,

  do you? If you have an ounce of sense, you'll choose someone with a little more spirit the next time. But no—you'll probably propose to another meek, gentle lamb. Bullies are always drawn to that sort."

  Alex was dizzy from the ache in his head and the failed attempt to free himself and despairing, incredulous rage. Everyone he loved had been taken away from him—his mother, his father, Caroline. He'd let himself believe that he would never lose Penelope—that, at least, it had seemed reasonable to depend on. He thought he would go raving mad if he had to endure any more. His jaw twitched violently.

  "Lily," he said hoarsely. "Untie the ropes."

  "Not to save my life."

  "It's the only thing that will."

  "You'll be unleashed in the morning," she promised. "Then you'll be free to collect Henry, return home, and plot your revenge.

  Do your worst. I don't care, now that Penny is safe from you."

  "You'll never be safe," he rasped.

  "At the moment I feel quite safe." She smiled impudently. Then she seemed to recognize the emotions that writhed beneath his fury. The wicked amusement in her eyes dimmed, replaced by something softer. "You shouldn't worry about Henry," she said. "He'll be perfectly fine tonight—Derek's factotum is making certain he stays out of trouble." She smiled wryly. "Henry filled

  my ears with praises of you during the carriage ride to London. A man who wins such devotion from a child can't be all that terrible." Watching his face, she put a hand on either side of his lean torso, her slight weight poised over him. "But it isn't

  Henry that's bothering you. What is it?"

  Alex closed his eyes, trying to block out the sight of her, the sound of her voice, wishing to God this were a nightmare that

  would end soon. But she continued to dissect him with her soft words, heedlessly raking over raw wounds.

  "No one's ever forced you to do anything before, have they?" she asked.

  He concentrated on his breathing, making it steady. He tried to block out her voice.

  "Why so distraught over losing
my sister? You can go out and find someone else just like her, if that's what you really want." Lily paused and said thoughtfully, "If you're so intent on having someone who won't interfere with Caroline's memory." She noticed the catch of his breath. "For shame," she said softly, and shook her head. "Few men would mourn for so long. It reflects either on your capacity for love, or your remarkable stubbornness. Which is it, I wonder?"

  Alex's eyes flew open. With a tingling shock, Lily saw that the depths of gray had changed from ice to smoke. She felt an

  odd surge of compassion. "You're not the only one who's lost someone," she said quietly. "I have too. I understand all

  about self-pity. It's useless, not to mention unbecoming."

  Her condescension drove him wild. "If you think losing that snub-nosed little viscount is comparable to what I went through with Caroline-"

  "No, I'm not referring to him." Lily stared at him in mild surprise, wondering how much he knew about her engagement to

  Lord Hindon. He must have gotten it out of Zach. "What I felt for Harry was infatuation. The one I loved and lost was

  someone else entirely. I would have died for . . . this person. I still would."

  "Who?"

  "That's private."

  Alex lowered his head back to the pillow.

  "Perhaps your temper will cool tonight," Lily remarked, delicately rearranging his collar, as if he were a plaything. She knew

  her careless manner would incense him further. "When you think about this sensibly, you'll realize it's the best for all concerned. Even you." Noticing his hands straining at the ropes, she touched his taut arm. "Don't. You'll only end up with blisters. You

  may as well relax. Poor Alex. It must be difficult to accept the fact that you've been bested by a woman." Her dark eyes danced with sympathetic laughter. "For the rest of my life, I'll treasure this memory. The earl of Wolverton, completely at

  my mercy." She leaned over him, her smiling mouth hovering just above his. "Just what would you do if you could free

  yourself, my lord?"

  "Strangle you. With my bare hands."

  "Would you? Or would you kiss me as you did in the library?"

  His eyes flickered, and a flush edged his cheekbones. "Consider that a mistake," he muttered.

  Lily was stung by his contemptuous tone. Her experiences with men—Harry's desertion, Giuseppe's angry disappointment, even Derek's lack of sexual interest in her—had all taught her that she lacked whatever it was that made a woman desirable. Now Alex had joined the list. Why wasn't she like other women? What mysterious thing made her so unappealing? Some devilish impulse urged her to show Alex how powerless he was. She leaned close, her breath wafting over his chin. "You

  had me at a disadvantage in the library," she said. "Have you ever been kissed against your will, Alex? Perhaps you'd like

  to know how it feels."

  Alex stared at her as if she'd gone mad. Smiling impishly, she dipped her head and pressed a light, closemouthed kiss to his

  stiff lips. He jerked his head back as if he'd been touched by fire. She was doing her best to torment him. First a kiss. Next she'd probably start plucking out his chest hairs one by one.

  Lily studied him in the silence. Something had made his breathing choppy. Was it anger? Or was it possible that her kiss had affected him? She was intrigued by the thought. ''Should I consider that another mistake?" she whispered.

  Alex stared at her, transfixed. He couldn't make a sound.

  Lily moved the necessary half inch to bring her lips to his. Alex inhaled quickly. This time he didn't try to move away. Softly

  she brushed her mouth over his, giving him nothing more than questioning pressure. Alex tolerated her kiss with his eyes

  tightly closed, as if she were subjecting him to some acutely painful torture. His shoulders and chest turned rock-hard with

  the tension of his arms pulling on the ropes. She touched the side of his smooth, hot neck with her fingertips, and he gave a single gasp against her lips.

  Astonished, Lily pulled herself higher onto his chest. She wanted more . . . something . . . but she didn't know what, or how. Then there was movement, his head turning slowly on the pillow, adjusting beneath hers. Lily curved her small hand behind

  his neck, instinctively pressing harder with her mouth. She felt the sleek push of his tongue, and she was shaken by a jolt of pleasure that made her want to answer the silken movement. Alex felt the way Lily shivered, her breath striking his cheek in

  a rush of surprise. Expecting each moment that her lips would be withdrawn, he strained upward in hunger, seeking more.

  But she did not pull away—she stayed against him, open and sweet.

  Alex clenched his fists. He was trapped by her sinuous body and the bed and his own helplessness. Excitement flooded through him, centering in his loins. Nothing would stop the hardening rise of his flesh, coming to life in heavy, twitching surges. He ached and groaned, and damned himself. Ripping his mouth from hers, he buried his face in the perfumed curve of her throat. "No

  more," he said gruffly. "Either untie me or stop this."

  "No," she said breathlessly. She had never felt so daring and giddy in her life. She laced her fingers into his thick hair.

  "I'm t-teaching you a lesson ..."

  "Get off me!" he said fiercely. He almost succeeded in frightening her away—he felt her give a little jump.

  But she persisted. Still holding his gaze, she eased further over him until she was draped on him full length. He shuddered and

  bit his lip. The weight of her body bearing down on his aroused manhood caused him to press upward without conscious thought.

  It wasn't enough. He wanted more—the softness of her flesh surrounding him, the cling and pull of her body as he thrust within her. Somehow he managed to speak very quietly. "Enough. Lily . . . enough."

  She was breathing very fast, looking as reckless as she had during the hunt, hurtling over impossible jumps. Alex couldn't

  fathom what was going on in her mind, until she spoke. "Say her name now," she urged in a thick voice. "Say it."

  He set his jaw so hard that he felt it tremble.

  "You can't," Lily whispered. "Because it's me you want, not Caroline. I can feel it. I'm a living, breathing woman, and I'm

  here. And you want me."

  A thousand thoughts raced across his brain. He searched for Caroline, but she wasn't there . . . nothing but a blur of memories, faded color, muted sound. None of it was as real as the face above him. Lily's mouth remained just above his, close enough

  that he could feel the warmth of her lips.

  He didn't answer, but she could read the truth in his eyes. Lily should have pulled away in triumph, glorying in her victory. She

  was right, after all. Instead she made a low sound and kissed him again. Disarmed, unable to retreat, all he could do was surrender. Her hands were on his face, his neck, exploring gently. Alex groaned with the need to touch her, hold her tight

  between his thighs. Instead he was spread beneath her. It was killing him slowly. The ropes tore at his wrists until they were raw.

  Lily gasped at the rhythmic goading of his hips. She tried to move away, only to find that he had caught her bottom lip with his teeth. "Turn your head," he muttered, his warm breath rushing into her mouth. "Turn it ..."

  She obeyed, and he let go of her lip, his mouth opening to receive the twisting pressure of hers. Lily gave a small sob of pleasure. Compulsively she gathered tighter against him, impelling her breasts against his hard chest, her stomach flat against his. The friction between their bodies caused her gown to ride up to her knees, but she didn't care; she couldn't seem to make herself

  care about anything except the urgent need building inside.

  There was a knock at the door. Lily stiffened at the sound. "Miss Lawson?" came the butler's muffled voice.

  Weakly she dropped her head to the pillow, the puff of her breath ti
ckling Alex's ear. He turned his head against her buoyant

  curls and inhaled the sweet fragrance.

  Burton spoke again. "Miss Lawson?"

  Lily raised her head. "Yes, Burton?" she asked unsteadily.

  "A message has just arrived."

  She froze. That could mean only one thing. Burton would never intrude on her privacy unless the note were from a particular source.

  Alex watched Lily intently. The blush drained from her face. There was a gleam of something like fear in her eyes. She

  seemed dazed. "It can't be," he heard her whisper. "It's too soon."

  "Too soon for what?"

  The sound of his voice seemed to recall her. She wiped her expression clean and rolled away from him, jerking at her skirts. Carefully she avoided looking at him. "I must bid you good night, my lord. I th-think you'll be comfortable here-"

  "Not likely, you little tease!" He watched in fury as she fumbled to restore her appearance and left the room. He shouted a

  few choice obscenities after her, adding, "I'll see you in Newgate for this! And as for your damn butler—" The door slammed,

  and he felt silent, glaring at the ceiling.

  Lily faced Burton in the hall, too distracted to worry about her disheveled appearance. There was a note poised on the silver