Come the Dawn (22 page)

“Do you really think so?” Her head slanted, her eyes agleam. “For myself, I can’t agree at all. I believe I would enjoy myself very much.”

“I’m trying to
protect
you! Why do you make it so difficult?”

“Maybe because … I don’t want to be protected.”

He gripped her shoulders. “I must have that stone, India. It is important — more important than you can know.”

“Why, Dev? What is so special about that particular gem?”

Devlyn bit back a curse, knowing he had already revealed too much. “I-I simply don’t care to see a jewel of that size lost.”

“I don’t believe you. There is something you’re not telling me. Quite a lot, I suspect.”

His eyes hardened. “The only thing I’m not telling you is what we both know. We are not right for each other. Why can’t you accept that?” His hands slid along her bare arms and then cupped her waist. His jaw tightened as he brushed the slope of one breast, his actions in direct opposition to the force of his own words. “If this is a game, you’re going to be damned sorry for playing it.”

“This is no game, Dev. Of course, if I knew what you were really doing here and why you were so interested in that diamond, I might be more inclined to help you.”

Thorne’s eyes glittered as he pulled her back against him and ran his long fingers along the translucent silk. “I want that jewel.” Beneath the cool fabric he felt the lush crests pebble at his touch. A dark groan gathered in his throat.

Dangerous, fool. Too soft — too tempting. Too close to everything you’ve ever wanted.

“India?”

No answer. Nothing but softness and heat. Nothing but danger.

At her slightest resistance, he would have let her go, but there was none. Her body was all suppleness and giving, and she knew it perfectly. It was that stubborn arrogance, coupled with her skill at knowing him even better than he did, that made Thorne respond in kind, planting his long hands around her creamy skin. There he found not diamonds but treasures of a more tormenting sort, their velvet heat more perfect than any of the hot fantasies he had brought back from Europe with him.

He felt her shiver against him. “Have you had enough?” he whispered hoarsely. “Say the word and I’ll stop, India.”

But she only laughed darkly. “Don’t you know we Delameres never stop? It is not in our nature. Any hint of opposition is like a red flag to us.” Her eyelashes veiled her smoky blue eyes. Slowly her back arched. Ever so gently she drew her body closer against his probing fingers.

That single seductive movement very nearly drove him over the edge. A thousand fantasies whirled through him, each one intensified by the knowledge that they were standing in a place of shadows and silence, a place meant for the baring of flesh to flesh. One movement and she would be his, lovers cushioned on the soft leaves while their bodies met in blind need. Devlyn Carlisle was too experienced a connoisseur of women not to recognize all the symptoms of her racing pulse, husky voice, and unsteady breath.

But damned if he was going to give up all reason again. Brussels had been one thing, the whole city swept up in madness. Then Devlyn had had an excuse for his blindness, but now—

Now he had no excuse for wanting her until he thought the pain would shred him up into tiny little pieces, no excuse for needing to hear her quick, sudden laughter and yearning to feel her lips trail slowly over every inch of his hungry body.

He looked down, scowling to see her dress lowered and one taut crest trapped beneath his fingers. “This is madness, India. Sweet madness, but very dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

Outside the boxwood hedge voices drifted through the night. “But I’m certain I saw him over here just a few moments ago.” There was no mistaking Helena Marchmont’s high-pitched complaint.

“Perhaps you were mistaken. It is very dark along these walks, my lady.” Ian Delamere spoke loudly as he walked beside the countess.

As Ian had planned, his words carried to India. She struggled to move away, but Devlyn held her still, pulling her toward the back of the bower.

“As you can see there’s no one here.” Ian’s voice held a trace of lazy mockery. “Perhaps I should escort you back to the refreshment area?”

“That will hardly be necessary,” the countess snapped. “And I
will
find him, you may count on that.”

Her slippers crunched away over the gravel. After a moment Ian’s soft laughter heralded his own departure.

India felt silence press around her. Then Thorne’s voice moved like wind through a spring meadow. “I need you, India. God help me, but I do. You give me life when I think it is lost. That is your sweet power.”

Dimly India heard the break in his voice. And then his fingers tightened.

A kiss? Never so tame, this thing he gave her. The force of his body drove her back against the hedge, her back arching like a bow over his arm, her lips parting beneath the force of his possession. She did not try to fight him, knowing it was beyond her willpower. Instead she drove her body closer while his control was tested as surely as her own. India knew that he would never hurt her. The anger radiating from his taut body was all for himself, for being unable to curb his desire.

And at that moment her only thought was heightening the desire he struggled to deny. Only in that way could she have honesty from him at last.

Her neck arched. She touched her tongue to his and instantly his fingers tightened. Skin met, fought, joined, until India thought she would die of the melting heat that surged through her body. She wanted him and was too honest to deny it. Every harsh line of his own body told her that he was feeling the same need. With a stab of woman’s instinct she saw that something beside his lack of memories held him back from her.

Some new and dangerous mission that he had been called to fulfill?

Her eyes darkened as she used her very best weapon to answer that question. Her head fell back, offering him the sleek curve of her throat.

“India, don’t. I’m trying to stop. For
both
our sakes.”

“No.” Her hand brushed his lips. “Not yet.”
Not ever.

His fingers tightened and he kissed a fierce path along the naked skin she had offered. He hesitated only a moment at the creamy expanse of her breasts and then his lips closed over the thin barrier of silk. Around them the night was rich and dark, all sound lost in the fierce thunder of their hearts and the pulse of their heated blood.

India didn’t care about secret missions or convoluted responsibilities that would endanger Devlyn’s life. All she cared about were his hands sliding over her. All she wanted was to know that he remembered what they had once shared and to find out whether they could share such joy again.

Clearly he wanted her.

Clearly he needed her. Equally clearly, the man was as honorable as both her brothers and as stubborn as they were too.

She smiled darkly when she felt his fingers inch beneath her gown and ease lower.

Silk trembled, giving way to heated skin. She would have her answer at last, India thought. There would be no more lies between them.

And then she gasped. The rogue had found the edge of the diamond, hidden deep in the gusset beneath her arm. Damn the man! “Devlyn, stop,” she said hoarsely, fighting the rush of blood and heat.

But he didn’t. His lips opened, searching her mouth while his tongue tangled with hers. His body was a fierce, unbroken line of need against her while his heart beat in wild thunder like her own.

Then his fingers closed and the jewel was his.

At the same instant his other hand covered the naked thrust of her breast.

India went entirely still, her body trembling, her whole soul shivering in a wild rush of anger and need and confusion. How did he always manage to kindle such a storm of emotions? With any other man, she was cool and calm and detached.

His lips toyed with the sensitive skin. He laughed softly. “It seems I have found my treasure,” he murmured. “And now I think it’s time I had a better look.”

With one final tug the silk slid free. Cool air swept over India’s trembling skin.

“Beautiful.” His fingers traced the perfect coral thrust of her. “I’d forgotten—” He breathed harshly, whispering low, raw words of praise.

She swayed, her hands buried in his hair as his mouth slid over her.

Heaven — and aching torment as memories washed over her.

“They must be here!” Feet crunched over gravel. “I’m sure I remember the turning.”

“You can’t even remember where you’ve left that doll of yours.” This voice, drifting over the boxwood hedge, could belong only to Andrew.

India tensed. The children! She could not allow Devlyn to discover that they were here.

But it was too late. His body had hardened and there was a slow flare of anger in his eyes. “More of
your
work?”

“No, I—”

“Then they have disobeyed me on their own. They will soon know the penalty, I assure you.”

India caught his arm desperately. “You mustn’t be angry with them. They came because Alexis was convinced I was in danger. She saw that man, the one that she has dreams about.”

Devlyn’s brow hardened. “She has many nightmares after Waterloo. We all do,” he added. “But I cannot allow them to endanger themselves this way.”

He pulled away from India, distracted, and in that moment his fingers lost their grip on the diamond. “It seems that you have bested me yet again, but now I know where your treasure lies.” There was a sensuous undercurrent to his words that made India’s cheeks flame. “You may count on the fact that I shall remember — and be back to reclaim it.”

Then, with a whoosh of greenery, he disappeared out the front of the bower.

India stood, breathless, letting her heartbeat slow. Beyond the high hedge the whispered voices moved away. Devlyn hadn’t found them yet, but what he said was true. The children were in grave danger here.