Nicole Jordan (5 page)

“Please…” she whispered.

Without waiting for him, she ground herself against his muscular thigh, her pelvis thrusting wildly against him in an agony of need.

Compassionately he gripped the firm, sweet flesh of her buttocks and aided her, setting a hard rhythm until she exploded yet again, crying out in rapture and collapsing bonelessly upon him.

Lying there in the painful aftermath, Kell held her exquisite body as if it were fragile glass, as if he were afraid to touch it.

How in hell could shepossibly still be a virgin? With her courtesan’s lashes and sultry mouth and her reputation as a seductress, he’d naturally presumed her carnally experienced. Her desperate lust could be accounted for by the aphrodisiac, of course, but there had been nothing innocent or virginal in her practiced kisses or her bold caresses.

A gamester by profession, he would have wagered half his fortune that she was no virgin. A wager he obviously would have lost.

Devil take it, her eager assault on his manhood suggested clearly that she was no stranger to a man’s body….

Yet perhaps she was indeed carnally experienced but had been saving her virginity for her husband. Hernoble husband. Kell frowned suddenly, recalling that Miss Kendrick was supposed to have wed her duke yesterday. In fact, that celebrated event was what had driven his brother to finally act, to mete out his avowed vengeance.

Kell took a deep, steadying breath, unintentionally inhaling the delicate fragrance of her hair. What had his volatile younger brother gotten him into? And what the devil was he supposed to do with her now?

Just then she gave a sigh and buried her nose in his shoulder, making a mewling sound like a kitten. An odd tenderness flooded Kell—a totally involuntary response that grated on his nerves.

He was still enraged at her for wounding his brother so savagely, yet for the first time, he began to question Sean’s veracity. Sean’s claim that he’d enjoyed her sexual favors, that she had in fact offered her body, was clearly untrue. Was it also possible that Raven Kendrick wasn’t entirely the vicious Jezebel she had been labeled?

Admittedly Sean’s feelings toward her had been warped by his recent brutal impressment. Yet his darker side had fomented long before, Kell knew to his sorrow. Worse, his brother still harbored a simmering resentment againsthim , blaming Kell for abandoning him to their uncle’s perversions more than a dozen years ago.

Kell squeezed his eyes shut at the familiar anguish. Since their mother’s senseless death when he was fifteen, he’d felt responsible for Sean, who was five years his junior—even though their paternal uncle had assumed legal guardianship for them both. But he had failed miserably in his duty to protect his young brother, unwittingly leaving Sean to their uncle’s debauchery.

He’d tried desperately to make amends since then. Remembering, Kell raised his fingers to his cheek. His scar had resulted from a violent fight with their uncle, when he’d discovered William Lasseter’s sordid crime. He’d wanted to kill the bastard, but instead he’d escaped with Sean to Dublin, vowing to keep him safe.

For a time they’d known no other home but the streets, scrounging for their very existence, struggling to survive. Kell had quickly learned to rely on his exceptional gaming skills to put food in their empty bellies. They’d had only each other, and then their uncle had pursued them to Ireland….

Deliberately Kell crushed the dark memory. Yet he couldn’t quell his growing misgivings about his brother, or summarily dismiss Sean’s vengeance as focused merely on Raven Kendrick and not on himself as well.

He would have given his life for his brother, if need be. It pained him to think Sean might have deliberately sought to destroy the tenuous reputation he’d fought so hard to build for his gaming house.

But why else would Sean have brought Miss Kendrick here, if not out of vindictiveness?

Reminded of the blue-eyed siren in his arms, Kell winced. Her hair drifted like cool silk against the backs of his hands, her soft breasts and slim thighs scorched him like hot coals, eliciting powerful emotions inside him that he didn’t want to feel….

“Bloody hell,” he cursed again, damning her and his brother both.

Her, for arousing the most savage lust he’d ever known. And Sean, for inciting this damnable situation.

Chapter

Four

Fighting free of murky unconsciousness, Raven opened her eyes to find herself staring at a warm, crackling fire. She lay still for a moment, letting her gaze drift around the unfamiliar bedchamber. While tastefully rich, there was nothing remotely feminine about the gleaming mahogany furnishings or the burgundy and gold appointments. This was a man’s room. Sweet heaven.

Disoriented, she raised a hand to her aching temple as wicked memories of her pirate lover danced in her muddled brain. Where in God’s name was she?

“Good, you’re awake,” a pleasant female voice murmured.

Turning her head sharply, Raven winced at the pain, then froze as she recognized the elegant, golden-haired woman who had risen from a chair and was moving to stand beside the bed.

This woman had tried her help her, she remembered—Dear God, had her nightmare been real?

“I wasn’t dreaming, was I?” she managed to ask, her voice a thin rasp.

“No, I am afraid not.”

Raven blanched to have her fears confirmed.

“How do you feel?”

She felt miserable. Her groggy head was pounding like carriage wheels on cobblestone, and her mouth tasted as if she had swallowed sawdust…. Gingerly Raven felt her scalp and discovered a lump above her left temple. Moreover, her wrists were bruised and scraped from her bonds, and there was a raw tenderness between her legs—

Shying away from that appalling realization, she regarded the woman. “Where…am I? How long…?”

“A gaming club on St. James Street. The Golden Fleece. I am Emma Walsh, the hostess here. And you were brought here yesterday.”

Memory came flooding back in a vivid rush, making Raven shudder. She had been abducted on her wedding day by a former unwanted suitor who’d struck her viciously. When she regained consciousness to find herself trussed to a bed, Sean Lasseter had forced a vile concoction down her throat. Everything afterward was a blur, but her dreams had been steamy and erotic, filled with exquisite lovemaking by her pirate lover….

Raven squeezed her eyes shut, desperately hoping she was mistaken about the brazen events of last night. Had those too been real? The passion, the warmth, the tender caresses…Aghast, she shook her head in denial.

“You’re safe now,” Emma said reassuringly.

Raven forced herself to open her eyes. “I remember you,” she finally said. “You tried to stop him….”

“Yes. But I fear I wasn’t very successful.” The hostess set her jaw grimly, as if in remembrance. “I had to call Kell.”

“Kell?”

“Kell Lasseter. Sean’s older brother. He owns the club. He knows how to handle Sean when he gets in one of his dark moods.”

“Kell…that was who…He was with me last night?”

“Yes. If not for him, Sean might have hurt you even more seriously.”

Raven looked away, heat searing her cheeks as she recalled the lover who’d shared her bed last night. The wicked things he’d done to her, the liberties he’d taken with her body. And her own wanton response. She had thought he was her pirate…. Dear God.

She tried to thrust those memories aside as another realization struck her. “My family…do they even know where I am?”

“I don’t expect so.”

“They must be frantic with worry. My grandfather has a weak heart…” Raven drew a sharp breath. “God, what will I tell him?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t fret about that just now. I have brought you some breakfast. Do you think you can eat a bit now? You were in no condition to manage food yesterday.”

Forcibly shifting her attention, Raven glanced at the tray on the table, surprised to find herself hungry. “Yes…thank you.”

“I also brought you a robe. I believe I am taller than you are, but my clothing will do in a pinch.” Emma glanced down at Raven’s body. “You should permit me to launder your shift.”

Raven flinched as she recalled what had happened to her beautiful wedding gown. Sean Kendrick had cut it off her while she’d struggled with all her might against him and her bonds. And he had ripped her necklace away—

Her hand went to her throat. “My mother’s pearls!”

“Don’t be alarmed. I have them safe. The clasp is broken but I think it can be repaired.”

To her dismay, Raven felt her eyes suddenly burn with tears, and it was all she could do to swallow them.

Giving a sympathetic smile, Emma squeezed her hand. “You will feel better after you refresh yourself. You’ll find a chamber pot beneath the washstand and warm water in the pitcher. But I expect you will want a bath. I’ll order it for you at once. And I will find you a day gown to wear.”

With an appreciative nod, Raven forced herself to sit up. “I am not normally so helpless.”

“Of course not. But you have been through an ordeal that would have most young ladies expiring from shock.”

She managed a weak smile. “I still might expire from shock.”

Emma’s gentle laughter was warm. “Well, I’m certain Kell will do what he can to help you and make things right.”

Raven groaned inwardly. She couldn’t possibly face him. Not after what had occurred between them last night. Apparently he’d been her savior, and yet he had taken advantage of her helpless state—the cad.

When she realized that Emma was holding out the wrapper for her, Raven drew off her shift and slipped on the blue brocade garment, murmuring her thanks.

“You needn’t thank me,” Emma replied. “Kell instructed me to see to your needs. He wishes to speak to you when you feel up to it.”

But I don’t wish to speak to him,Raven reflected silently.

When she was alone, she slowly got out of bed. She felt shaky, the remnants of the drug she’d been given still in her body, while a tight, cold knot of panic had settled in her stomach at the thought of her future. She was facing disaster—

Refusing to consider her dire state, she managed her ablutions, then sat in the chair before the hearth and made herself nibble at the breakfast Emma had brought her.

She indeed felt a little better when she’d swallowed a few bites of toast and a soft-boiled egg, but nothing could mute the chaotic pounding of her thoughts. The very act of eating reminded her of the man who had succored her last night, of his tenderness. He had given her lemon-flavored water to cool her parched throat, she remembered. And he had bathed her feverish body over and over….

Raven groaned again at the tormenting memory.

Just then a quiet rap sounded on the bedchamber door behind her. With a start, she glanced over her shoulder, dreading having to respond. Before she could decide whether or not to bid entrance, the door opened and a man stepped inside the room.

Sweet heaven, she hadn’t dreamed him. He was tall and athletically built, with ebony hair that was thick and curling. A lock fell carelessly over his strong brow, calling attention to his harshly sculpted features and a mouth that was alarmingly sensual. Yet it was his gaze that disturbed her most. Those intense black eyes fringed by dark lashes were startlingly familiar.

Raven stared. The resemblance to her imaginary lover was uncanny….

Still there were differences. A scar slashed across this man’s left cheekbone, making him look more dangerous than her pirate lover ever had in her dreams. And there was no tenderness in the chiseled features of his face.

He shut the door behind him and leaned one shoulder negligently against it, surveying her with a cool, raking glance.

Raven felt herself flush as she saw him take stock of her attire. He must know she was naked beneath her wrapper.

She came to her feet and faced him, clutching the edges of her robe to her throat defensively. Her lover had never made her feel threatened, either.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, instinctively lashing out, believing anger was better than vulnerability.

“I believe this is my bedchamber.” His reply held an edge of wryness.

“A gentleman would not intrude on a lady this way.”

Her belligerence sent one jet black brow winging upward. “That presumes I am a gentleman.”

He spoke like one, certainly. The timbre of his voice was low and cultured, that same voice that had consoled and cajoled her all night long. He was dressed informally, however, wearing a brown superfine waistcoat over a white shirt and buff buckskin breeches and boots, with no coat or cravat.

Pushing himself away from the door, he moved toward her deliberately. He must be a sportsman to have developed such a lithe, muscular body, Raven reflected absently. And he emanated a raw vitality that buffeted her senses—

Willing away her disturbing awareness, Raven held her ground as he came to stand directly before her. “Must you be here when I am not dressed?”

“It is a bit late to worry about observing proper convention, considering last night. I saw every one of your charms when I was soothing your fever.”

“You call what you did ‘soothing’?”

“What Idid was alleviate your suffering, Miss Kendrick. Believe me, you would have been much worse off had I not intervened.”

Raven set her teeth at the mocking gleam in his midnight eyes. She had never seen such a darkly, insolently beautiful male…except in her fantasies. To her dismay, she felt herself flushing again. “Did I…? Did we…?”

Somehow he understood her stumbling queries. “Yes, you did assault me. It was all I could do to keep you from ravishing me. But no, we did not enjoy sexual congress. You’re not entirely unscathed but nevertheless still a virgin.”

Under his slow, deliberate stare, her cheeks turned scarlet, and she had to look away.

“Not a very convincing performance, Miss Kendrick.”

The edge of contempt in his voice made her chin snap up again. “What do you mean?”

“Your pretense of the affronted victim isn’t at all persuasive. You might be virginal, but you are hardly an innocent. You can’t expect me to believe you’ve never lain with a man.”