Ruined by Moonlight (16 page)

He was…afraid of her. Or, more accurately, of his reaction to her, and that alone shifted the balance enough that lying in his arms was a more heady experience.

She rather thought Viscount Andrews, after five days of his constant company, was so much more than his infamous persona. But at the moment he was being quite devilish indeed and living up to the reputation.

The contrast was intriguing. She had the distinct impression the man she was supposed to marry wasn’t in the least complex, and with all the hours to contemplate it now she knew the engagement was a mistake and an acquiescence to her father, when she should have been more forthright about her doubts. It was one thing to think a man was nice enough and another to pledge herself to him for life.

Lord Colbert wanted a pretty, young, submissive wife that would bring a solid marriage portion, advantageous
political connections, and hopefully would be fertile and produce an heir. But the intimacy of what that involved told her how little she understood the depth of the agreement and what it entailed.

This kidnapping had very likely ruined her. But maybe her life would have been ruined in a completely different way if it hadn’t happened.

“That feels good.” It wasn’t a question as Ran’s fingers made a slow rotation. He licked her lower lip. “I like the way you move when I touch you. Your body is so delectably responsive.”

How could anyone help it during such skillful and shameless manipulation? Elena quivered against him, their mutual nakedness an aphrodisiac, his heat and lean length powerful next to her. This time his erection wasn’t nearly as daunting because she’d seen it before, but she was still uncertain as to what he wanted her to do so she merely took in a shuddering breath as he leisurely moved his hand between her legs.

The disparity of their experience was so vast that she didn’t know what to say, and, in truth, she didn’t
want
to say anything. All she wanted at the moment was to feel, and, because this was all so new for her, to learn about wanton pleasure. Could there be a better teacher? She doubted it.

But analyzing the situation was beyond her at the moment as she arched, the gentle rotating movement of his fingers not quite enough suddenly, as if she hung on a precipice, breathless and wanting. As if he precisely understood, he pressed in just the right way, faster and…

He kissed her as he pushed her over the edge, a shattering bliss making her cry out and twist away, the sensation too overwhelming.

“You can do that for yourself,” he wickedly whispered in her ear as she expired in waves of pleasure. “But I promise you it is better not done alone.”

Gasping in the aftermath, she wasn’t sure what he meant, but coherent thought was not exactly an option at the moment and languid contentment instead a distraction.

More heated kisses followed and a shuddering moment later the warm liquid of his release spilled across her belly as he said her name with hoarse intonation. Cradled against him she wondered if whoever had plotted to have them abducted and locked in together had changed her life irrevocably, but perhaps not as intended.

It was possible she was one of those romantic young women Ran wished to avoid because, maybe, just maybe, she was becoming more and more fascinated with the dashing, ardent, but carefully distant Lord Andrews.

“I’ll bathe you,” he said in his signature lazy drawl once the acceleration of their breathing had slowed. “Entirely my fault, but forgive me if I refuse to apologize, for it was also entirely my pleasure.”

“Do you usually?” She shouldn’t have asked, but there was a sense of loss as he shifted away and sat up. He was entirely right: she was sticky, and no doubt he was as well.

It was dark enough she couldn’t see his expression, but in silhouette he seemed suddenly remote yet his voice was even. “With the myriad of other women, you mean.”

“I’m not sure what I mean.” She’d asked too personal a question, that was clear enough. But was she supposed to apologize with his discharge on her skin? “This is very new to me,” Elena said softly, “and it doesn’t come
lightly. You’ve forgiven my physical inexperience with the rest of it so far.”

For a moment she thought he might not answer, but then his teeth gleamed in the ghost of a smile. “What you are asking me is to define what the emotional part of it is, and that is definitely not within the confines of my expertise, Elena.”

“And certainly not mine.” It wasn’t an admonition as much as an introspective observance.

“No,” he had the grace to agree. “Let me see to this.”

The lamp finally went out when he sat down next to her and the warm, wet fabric brushed her skin. Her body, still sensitive from the recent spike of pleasure, trembled as he wiped away the residue in the darkness, the muscles in her stomach tightening, and she had no doubt he noticed but he didn’t comment.

It was easier, actually, to ask questions if she couldn’t see his expression. “That is how babies are conceived?”

His hand stopped moving as if he was arrested by her question. There was enough moonlight outside she could faintly see him but not enough to register his reaction. He said after a moment, “I forget sometimes how sheltered young English ladies are. When a male climaxes inside a female he leaves his seed. If she is fertile she might conceive. It certainly doesn’t happen every time but often enough.”

It wasn’t as if she didn’t know there was a process that involved a man and a woman—and certainly she’d become much more enlightened in the past few days, but it was disconcerting to hear it put into words. Elena murmured, “So what we just did—”

“Was for pleasure, not procreation and I didn’t penetrate you. Don’t worry. There won’t be a child.”

“I…see.”

“Do you?” His fingers briefly touched her cheek. “Surely you are not interested in having a babe out of wedlock.”

“No.” She could say that with all due honesty.

“Then we are in accord.”

Were they? She wasn’t sure. When he settled into bed he didn’t pull her close, but rolled into the blankets and kept his distance. A little bewildered, she listened for his breathing to settle into the rhythm of slumber, but before it happened she found it impossible to fight off her own drowsiness.

At least he didn’t sleep on the floor.

“Y
ou let her go alone?”

Adams shifted to the other foot. “She insisted, my lord. I wondered at the wisdom of it all, but, no, she wasn’t alone. The other lady went with her and your driver, of course. She left this.”

Ben liked to think he could usually keep his expression controlled, but when he read the note he was fairly certain he must have looked close to anger because his secretary cleared his throat noisily.

“Is something wrong, my lord?”

Yes, it was
all
wrong. His willful wife was out and about trying to unearth a potential kidnapper and what he wanted to do at the moment was strangle her. The equation wasn’t complicated. Alicia’s cousin was missing. His wife apparently couldn’t see clear to keeping herself out of harm’s way despite that obvious fact. Yet none of the fault of it belonged to this young man, so he needed to calm himself.

The spike of alarm had Ben’s hand slightly shaking as he set aside the note. An advancing French column on the battlefield had not even been able to accomplish that, and yet one young woman with a penchant for dramatic
ultimatums and a sense of adventure he’d been previously unaware of had managed it. “No. I will take care of it. Thank you.”

At least she’d left him the address of where she’d hared off to. That was something.

Partnering with Alicia on this investigation is hardly an asset,
he thought with an inward curse,
and more of a profound liability
—especially since it paralyzed him at the very thought of danger to her.

And it did. There was no evidence her cousin had come to harm, but there was also no evidence she hadn’t either.

“Have them bring my horse around, please,” he said crisply.
And I will retrieve my wife myself
.

Perhaps, when they were back safe and sound, he’d explain in private in exact terms why she should obey him, but at the moment he needed to see her whole and unharmed before repercussions came to mind.

A good spanking was not without merit, but he’d never raised a hand to a woman, and he wasn’t going to start now, certainly not to Alicia, whom he’d die to protect. Still, there had to be some effective way to make his point…for she couldn’t do this, couldn’t dash off on some whimsical quest with a woman she didn’t know…

Was she addled or just too trusting?

Or even more adventurous than he’d perceived before this. Who knew she’d be so tenacious in pursuing her goal to recover her cousin? She certainly was not quite as predictable as he’d once thought.

For example,
this
he had not foreseen.

Rather like not knowing her favorite color. Maybe he should have been more observant all along. Swinging into the saddle, he nudged his horse toward a part of
London he didn’t consider to be savory and was glad he carried not just a dirk but also a sidearm. His mount, Ambrosias, sensed his urgency, for he danced sideways in the street and usually he was much better-mannered. They were old friends, used to each other, and the stallion was rarely so restive, but neither was he used to the city.

The urge to protect his wife was profound and made him put a heel to his horse’s side despite the muddy thoroughfare. Luckily the big horse didn’t balk at being guided through streets increasingly crowded with noise and carts, and when Ben spotted the carriage with his family crest sitting in front of the modest residence, Ambrosias was barely breathing hard. He, however, let out a measured exhale as he saw Alicia and a dark-haired woman emerge from the house, both ostensibly unharmed.

His wife caught sight of him sitting there and her smile naturally lit her face as if she had no idea he’d dashed half across London in a state of panic and perhaps even left some muddied pedestrians cursing in his wake.

She even waved with flattering enthusiasm.

God help him, she
waved
.

He was fairly adept at hiding his feelings and dismounted, calmly tugged his horse over to the carriage, without a word handed the reins to the driver so he could tie the stallion to the back of the vehicle, and opened the door for the two ladies himself. “Please get in.”

“I see you received my note, my lord. I—”

“Indeed I did.”

Alicia might be innocent but she was hardly a fool. Though he endeavored to be as polite as possible, she
caught the edge in his tone when he interrupted her and glanced up sharply. Her frothy skirts gathered in her slender hands, she allowed him to take her arm to assist her into the conveyance. Her companion, Miss Janet Raine, was a bit older than he was but not by much, and still attractive in an understated fashion. She also accepted his hand in assistance but kept her gaze slightly averted as she climbed inside. That told him without words that this had been entirely Alicia’s idea, which he hadn’t doubted in the first place.

He followed, the carriage dipping as he joined them, his slightly mud-spattered appearance no doubt giving evidence of his haste. Without preamble, he said, “Madam, you may now tell me in a very succinct way why you chose to go out unescorted to this part of London without my permission.”

The request came out a bit heavy-handed, but his pulse was only now slowing, as he could see for himself his wife was unharmed. If she didn’t realize that…

But maybe she didn’t. One of her points to their recent confrontation was that they didn’t know each other well. Maybe she was right. That needed to be addressed.

So with effort he quickly modified the statement before she answered, “Not that I normally dictate what you do, but in this case I was worried.”

Alicia met his eyes, her chin tilted at what might be interpreted as a defiant angle. “Miss Raine called with some rather pertinent information. She was looking for you, but you were not home. I understand you’ve met before.”

He ignored the implied question of why he hadn’t imparted the information that he’d been to visit Lord Andrews’s family. He wasn’t required to explain his actions;
it was quite the other way around. “Is there some reason you declined to wait until I returned home?”

“Yes. You didn’t deign to tell me when that would be.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed to do so.”

Alicia folded her hands primly in her lap. “You are unaware of many things, my lord.”

Had he just been criticized by his lovely wife in front of an audience? Ben lifted his brows. “I am sure I have a myriad collection of flaws, but can we set that aside while you explain exactly why Miss Raine came to see me and then the two of you went haring off?”

“This.” Opening her reticule, Alicia produced a gold watch with a flourish.

He took it, their fingers briefly brushing, making his gaze flicker up to meet hers, that contact a reminder of his banishment from her bed. Curious, he examined the timepiece, pressing the side so it opened, the inscription there catching his full attention.

“My brother’s watch.” Janet spoke finally, her tone low. “He was a young man when it was gifted to him. He’d served in the colonial war against America. Randolph carries it at all times. I received a note asking if there would be a reward for its return. That is how I knew without a doubt he had not gone anywhere voluntarily. There are some parts of his life my nephew would not give up lightly, and besides that rare, vile whiskey he favors, this watch is one them. He would never lose it. I’ve seen his hand stray to his pocket in an absent mannerism more often than I can say to make sure it is in place.”

It was a fine piece and Ben gently closed the case, noting there seemed to be no damage. “You obviously paid the reward, so I hope you requested details.”

“Actually”—Alicia cleared her throat—“you paid it. I left a note in your name. I did not have quite enough household funds to cover it.”