Going Rogue (24 page)

Her breath caught at seeing him without a shirt for the first time. A light smattering of hair covered his chest, which led to a trail of soft hair down the center of his torso—a path that would undoubtedly lead to her corruption. He was all hard muscle and sinew, superbly sculpted from a life of physical labor. Unable to stop herself, she reached out to touch the lowest region of his stomach, the smooth skin a stark contrast against the hard planes.

He shut his eyes at her touch, quickly reaching out to capture her wrist. After a moment, he reopened them, his blue eyes made stormy from desire. He leaned down into her, pushing her against the bed, the delicious weight of him covering her completely.

They resumed kissing, their tongues tangling together. The palms of his hand roamed over the generous swelling of her breasts, kneading the soft flesh. His fingers found the tight bud and rolled her muslin-covered nipple, teasing it into a hard peak.

His knee nudged her thighs apart. She could feel her core growing warm and wet. She wanted more of him. Soon she was rocking against him, the friction of his breeches against her sending surges of heat down her thighs and throughout her belly.

He was everywhere now, his lips leaving a trail of heat as he worked his way down the column of her neck. He continued on, using his hands and lips in unison, exploring every inch of her flesh. She was grasping at his back, desperately clinging to him, afraid to let go.

He was between her thighs now, his hard length pressing against her, as he sucked and licked at her nipples. The sensation of his warm tongue over the thin fabric sent ripples of pleasure washing over her.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he moved further down her body, lifting the hem of her chemise at the same time. His nose nuzzled the curls at the apex of her thighs, his mouth moving lower, his warm breath warming her slick center.

She clenched her eyes shut, uncertain of what to expect.

Then he parted her thighs, revealing her most intimate parts. His fingers ran feather-light touches down the sensitive skin, then settled at her center, traveling over her, exploring freely.

She opened her eyes, unable to resist the urge to watch him. His blue gaze burned into hers, and he smiled roguishly before bending his head down and taking her into his mouth. Her head fell back against the pillow, the world ceasing to exist.

She heard herself moaning as his tongue danced over her. He held her hips firmly to him as she writhed and twisted under him. He was alternating the speed in which he licked, the pressure, learning what she liked, what she didn’t.

He inserted first one finger and she cried out. The pressure inside her belly was building, pushing her closer to that edge.

“Do you like this?” He teased in between darting licks. “Or shall I stop?”

“No!” she yelled out. That had been enough. The wicked nature of his words sent her spiraling down, her body thrusting against his hand.

“Meredith,” he said, making his way back up to her mouth, kissing her again. She could still taste the slight musk of her on his lips. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long . . .”

His words sent shivers down her spine. “Was there anything else you wanted?” she whispered. She swept her hand down his body, her fingertips brushing the top of his breeches.

He chuckled, his voice husky. “You have no idea.”

“Then show me,” she said, nipping at his bottom lip.

She cupped him in her hand. She had no idea what had come over her, but she was overcome with the desire to give him the same pleasure he’d given her. She wanted to feel him, to taste the salty sweat off his chest, to weave a trail of kisses down the ripples of his abdomen, and then finally to take him in the way he’d taken her.

Everything they’d shared up to this point left her wanting only one thing. For him to be inside her.

He carefully rolled off her, removing her hand and cradling it close to his chest. “Not today.”

“No?” She was immediately all too aware of her wanton behavior.

“Not that I don’t want to,” he added, his voice strangled. “Surely, you must know that I’ve wanted you forever.”

She found the notion difficult to believe. “You wanted me like this? Even then?”

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Did I ever! Do you remember when we used to go swimming?”

“In your pond? Of course I do. I loved our summers spent in the water.”

“Well, I remember once when I was ten and six, I stripped down to nothing and jumped into the water, not thinking anything of it. You hid behind the bushes to remove your gown, and I’d promised—solemnly swore—
not to look
.”

“You didn’t!” She sat up, leaning against the wall. “You mean you peeked?”

“I did. And I’ll probably go to hell for it, but I swear it was worth it. You came out of those bushes and I covered my eyes with both hands. But I could still see through the cracks in my fingers. You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Your hair was hanging down your back and you were completely naked. I’d never seen the female form in all its glory before.”

“You were so lovely, your body—firm in some places, softer in others. Even then, the very sight of your breasts was enough to send me into a frenzy. All I could think about was having your arms and legs wrapped around me. For years it remained my singular fantasy, seeing you enter the water. You were my golden goddess, swimming in that blasted pond.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, embarrassed by his candid confession. She folded her arms across her chest, abruptly aware of just how intimate their positions on the bed were. She’d never felt more vulnerable, sprawled out on the bed next to him. And yet, nothing had ever felt more natural.

“Don’t do that.” He propped himself up on one elbow and pulled her arms away. “You have no reason to cover yourself. I just told you that you were the most beautiful creature in the world. Really, it’s a shame you wear clothes at all.”

She smiled. “Am I to presume that you’re the expert? Having seen so many women naked before.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t mean it that way, but yes, I’ve had my fair share of lovers. I won’t lie to you. I’ve learned a lot in the last five years.”

“You were a virgin before then?”

“I was,” he confessed. “I thought I was saving myself for my wife.”

They both grew very quiet. That horrific day was still sitting between them, like a giant wall they kept coming up against. She’d fooled herself into thinking they could get passed it completely.

“Why aren’t you married?” he asked.

She sighed, surprised it had taken him this long to ask. The question had been inevitable. Meredith swung her legs to the floor, purposely positioning her back to him. She felt him come up behind her, straddling her in between his powerful thighs, his chin resting on her shoulder. His bare chest was warm against her back, and for some reason that simple act of sitting so closely felt more intimate than the passion they’d just shared.

“I told you already, Derek. It was far easier to remain distracted than having to think about serious things like marriage. I did everything I could
not
to think about that.”

He kissed her cheek and her body hummed from the sweetness of it.

With a groan, he removed himself from the bed, grabbing his shirt. “I regret doing this, but I think the storm is moving on. It won’t be long before your friends are upon us.” He picked up her stays and gown from the floor and handed them to her.

She nodded. “I suppose being found with you half-naked would have a detrimental impact on my reputation.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He looked around the room and spotted a pail. “I’m going to find some water to put out this fire.”

Before she could say anything, he’d already left the cottage.

Meredith plopped down on the bed, her head reeling over the day’s events. Had he chosen to, he could have easily had whatever he wanted from her. She’d let her guard down and allowed him back into her life, but the question still remained if he’d finally allowed her back into his.

“I found some water,” Derek announced as he walked back inside the cottage. “I also heard the sound of horses approaching, so I think help is only moments away.”

He doused the fire, then threw the pail in the corner.

There were so many things she wanted to talk about, so many questions she had for him. But with help on the way, there’d be no time.

“We need to talk,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “Not now, but perhaps later this afternoon?”

She stood and turned her back to him, silently requesting assistance buttoning her gown. “At the bench? The one by the fountain . . . I could meet you there.”

He started fastening her dress, each brush of his fingertips against her skin sending shivers through her body. “I know the one.” He’d finished with her, and was busy making himself ready.

She stared at the embers. Their fire had been extinguished, and there was little hope of it ever being rekindled. Would it be the same for them?

Chapter 30

Derek sat in the Marshall’s library and gazed out the window, remembering every moment of the day’s events. He had so many questions—about her mother, about why she’d turned him away if she had indeed loved him, and what she wanted now.

A knock sounded at the door, startling him away from the incessant questions plaguing his mind. “Come in,” he called, expecting Brayan’s large form to come strolling in through the doorway.

It wasn’t his cousin.

Derek jumped out of the chair to his feet.

Lady Cynthia Browning stood before him, undeniably regal despite her slight frame. “Lord Sutherland, I presume?”

“Yes.” He bowed. “Can I help you with something?” Derek doubted the woman remembered him from the time he’d arrived unannounced in her drawing room. He looked far different now, not that he could say the same about her. The woman hadn’t aged a day, let alone half a decade.

She smiled sweetly, taking a seat across from him, then gestured for him to join her. “I hope you can.” She held out her hand and opened her fingers. A gold ring with a green center stone sat in her palm.

The ring he’d once given Meredith.

Apparently, the older woman
did
remember. “Where did you get that,” he asked, reaching out and gently plucking it from her hand.

She sat back in the chair and relaxed, as if making herself comfortable for a long conversation. A conversation he wasn’t quite certain he was up to having.

“My niece gave it to one of the servants to sell. Fortunately, that servant brought it to me.”

The words stung, but he tried to appear unaffected. “And how did you know it was mine?”

The woman sighed. “It wasn’t easy. I knew just who it was that had given the ring to my niece, but I couldn’t quite grasp how the boy would have come across something of such worth.”

He smiled ruefully. “Perhaps he didn’t know the ring was valuable when he gave it away?”

“I figured as much,” she nodded. “I can spot a fine emerald at twenty paces. But discovering the origin of the crest engraved on its side—that I had to have some help with.”

Derek held the ring up, examining it in the light. The Sutherland crest was carefully etched into either side of the gold band. “Well, I thank you for returning it to me.” He’d always held onto the hope that perhaps Meredith hadn’t gotten rid of it, especially after finding out the meaning behind it. It was a family heirloom, going back for generations. At least now he knew it was safe.

“It wasn’t long after that when I concluded Lord Sutherland and that boy from Middlebury were indeed the same person.”

He slid the ring over his smallest finger. “That couldn’t have been so difficult. After all, I’ve never kept my past a secret.”

“I can’t imagine you’re particularly forthcoming with it either. It is a bit hard to believe that a young farmer from a tiny village could evolve into such a renowned figure, traipsing around the world, and building a small empire for himself.”

“Stranger things have happened,” he replied, dismissing her comment with a flippant wave of his hand.

“Lord Sutherland—you once loved my niece very much.”

His breath caught, startled by the honesty of her remark. “It was a long time ago.”

“Not so long,” she said. “I wanted you to know that if you did, by chance, still harbor some of those same feelings that I won’t stand in the way of things.”

He took off the ring and wrapped his fist tightly around it. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

She leaned in toward him. “You mustn’t blame her for what happened. She was just doing what she had to.”

Derek stood and raked a hand through his hair. “And what exactly was it she had to do?”

Lady Browning looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. “She is a
Ribbon
after all. Meredith couldn’t very well consent to a man with virtually nothing to his name. She had her reputation to think about and you certainly didn’t have one to speak of . . .”

“I wasn’t good enough.” He finished her thoughts.

She looked up at him. “But things have certainly changed now, haven’t they?”

He sneered. “Yes, they have.”

She smiled again, as if the two were simply enjoying polite conversation over a cup of tea. “And your timing could not have been better. Meredith has found herself in quite the predicament. I’m leaving London soon and she needs to marry before I do. It’s a most pressing matter, I’m afraid.”

“And you thought I’d be just as likely a candidate as any?”

Lady Browning nodded. “If only she would have known what was to become of you, I’m certain she won’t be so foolish as to refuse you again.”

The older woman had just confirmed what he’d feared all along. Meredith’s only motivation before had been fortune and rank—and now he had both. It was never about him, it was about his money.

“I hear you took good care of my niece earlier, when you were both caught in the rain. Nearly an hour, was it?”

The nerve of the woman! “I assure you, Madame, that your niece’s virtue is just as intact as it was before the storm.” He couldn’t help but wonder just what the state of her virtue was. “You’ll have to come up with something better than that if you’re trying to extort me into marrying Meredith.”