Tainted by Temptation (16 page)

She fisted her cold hands. She could do this. The path was safe. Lucian traversed it daily. But the plummet to the sea and the roar of the crashing surf chilled her heart. If she were meant to fall to her death, surely she would have done it years ago from the bell tower. But her heart didn’t believe she was safe. She could no longer determine if the mad pounding was anger or terror.

Tucking her chin down to avoid seeing anything but the grass in front of her feet, she wobbled forward. As the ground dropped toward the rocky decline, the wind swirled above her, but ceased to molest her.

Once the sandy shoreline came into view her feet froze. It was too far down, the steps too steep. A sob caught in her throat.

Then Lucian came into view, traveling up the uneven ledges carved into the cliff face. His face darkened as he caught sight of her.

Velvet questioned her resolution to confront him. His hair was tousled and wet, his bathing suit dripping from where it was slung over his Turkish robe.

“Where were you?” he demanded.

“I would ask the same of you. Could you not spare Iris five minutes of civility?”

Lucian approached like a dark storm. His gaze scoured her disheveled appearance. His nostrils flared. “Where did you sleep last night? Why weren’t you in your bed this morning?”

His question surprised her. How did he know she hadn’t slept in her bed?

“Good God, have you no decency?” His lip curled in a sneer. His hand clamped over her wrist. “Must you appear before me with the signs of lechery in your dishevelment?”

He shook her.

More of her hair slithered free of its mooring. Damn, must he always assume the worst? Anger gathered steam within her.

“Who were you with?” he shouted.

“Your daughter.” Mindful of the bruises on Iris’s wrist, Velvet twisted her hand away. “She is heartbroken.”

His eyes flickered. “She is a sly thing who has twisted your sentiments to suit her whims.”

Velvet wanted to shake him. Didn’t he understand how much power he had to wound Iris? “She sobbed most of the night. That is more than a scheming child can manage. Did you have to berate her for wearing her mother’s bracelet?”

Lucian’s mouth tightened. “Why would you allow her to wear a marker of her mother’s infidelity?” he growled. “What were you thinking?” He pushed closer.

A bolt raced through Velvet, she took a step back. Was he past caring what he revealed? “I had no idea there was such a piece in her mother’s jewelry box. How should I tell her that one piece should not be worn? What excuse should I have given her?”

“Damn it to hell, you had only to see it once to know she should not wear it. Or did you think I possessed a blue eye?” He stepped menacingly closer. His eyelashes were damp and his eyebrows had flattened over his dark eyes. White lines bracketed his mouth.

“I thought the miniature could have been a brother or some relic from before your marriage. I have no knowledge of your wife’s family or her behaviors.” Velvet tried to speak calmly. “In any case Iris can barely decipher letters. She certainly could not have read the inscriptions.”

Lucian growled. “You push me to distraction. You knew. You approved.”

“I
suspected
,” corrected Velvet. She swiped a strand of hair away from her face. “I did not
know.
”

He raked a hand through his damp hair.

“Had I dressed her, I would have discouraged her from wearing it, but I was occupied seeing after your bride buffet.”

He shook his head ever so slightly, as if startled by her vehemence.

Velvet hated to think what she’d revealed. She’d come to tell him he must see to soothing Iris. Her own hurt was irrelevant. “You left without telling her good-bye. You return and berate her for wearing a bracelet she could not have known would wound you.”

He shook her off. “Iris has too great a champion in you.”

“She needs someone!” Velvet took a deep breath and decided to try a different tack. “She loves you desperately. She just needs to know she is secure in your love, not patted on the head like a good hunting dog and sent back to her kennel when you have no need for her.”

“Do not censure my behavior, Miss Campbell. I have done well by her, indulged her. She wants for nothing.”

“She doesn’t need more things, she needs her father’s love! Iris is in agony, and you must make amends for your behavior last night.”

“I must? I must, Miss Campbell?” His jaw pulsed and he leaned toward her.

Velvet grabbed his arm. “Please, I beg of you. She is a child who is desperately alone.” When a daughter doubted her father’s love, life was hardly worth living. A fact she knew all too well. “If you care about your daughter at all, you will reassure her that you love her.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand? Iris thinks you hate her.” That wasn’t all that Iris thought about him. “How can a father treat his own daughter so callously?”

“She is not my daughter,” he spat.

As if she had been slapped, Velvet recoiled. “What?”

Lucian winced and shook his head. “Bloody hell!” He fisted both his hands in his hair and bent forward. His wet bathing suit slid from his shoulder unnoticed.

Velvet stepped back. Her thoughts reeled. She tried to sort out what she knew of Iris’s birth. Iris was his wife’s babe. “You can’t know she isn’t yours.”

Straightening, he shook his head, his mouth twisted wryly. “I know. I forsook my wife’s bed after the death of our third child. The specialist we consulted in London suggested we abstain lest we have another stillbirth.”

Her mouth rounded. Her mind blanked, as she could think of no response.

“I don’t speak of it.
Ever.
” His narrowed eyes cut through her. “No one knows.”

“You cannot tell Iris. You would destroy her.”

“I don’t intend to tell Iris.” Lucian growled, “I didn’t intend to tell you.”

He glared at her as if she drew out the secret by witchcraft.

Why had he told her? Velvet wanted to shake off the confidence.

“Some may suspect, but they don’t know. The only ones who ever knew were Lilith and Myra.” His voice vibrated with a deep emotion.

“And they’re dead.” Velvet bit on her tongue. A chill slithered down her spine. She still didn’t know who the woman was, how she died, or why no one would speak of her.

“You can’t ever tell anyone.” He sounded manically detached.

Velvet backed away from him. “I don’t know who Myra was.” She wished she’d never come outside, never confronted him.

“She was Lilith’s maid. She was in London with us.” His face twisted but he stepped toward her. Emotions rioted across his face, his voice vibrating in stark contrast to the way he’d said she couldn’t tell anyone the secret of Iris’s parentage.

“She was more,” whispered Velvet.

“She was my mistress before she was murdered.”

Velvet backed farther away. She didn’t want to be within ten feet of him. How could it be that two women who shared his bed experienced violent deaths? Had he played a role in ending their lives? Had she totally misjudged him? Fear clawed at her, and she put her hand to her throat.

“Don’t look at me that way,” he said. Shock cast so chill a feeling in her it was as if cold damp air blew up her skirts.

“Velvet,” he said low and calm, although his eyes widened in horror and his head tilted back. His gaze cast down to her feet. He stood still as a statue.

Loath to take her eyes off of him, she remembered with a jolt they were near the cliffs. She twisted to see how close she was to the edge.

She could see down and down. For a second her mind couldn’t comprehend. The surf crashed loud against the rocks, and the stiff breeze buffeted her where she tottered on the rim. Panic knifed through her. Her throat closed. Her knees turned to water. Oh God, she was about to fall to her death.

F
ar down below her the rocks waited like teeth in a hungry maw. Velvet’s heart jolted to a stop. She would be torn to shreds on them. Sprays of saltwater stretched to reach her as if to pull her down into the salivating sea. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the death fall.

“Look at me,” Lucian lulled in a soothing voice. “Take my hand.” Reaching out, he stepped toward her.

She jerked. Her arms windmilled as if to keep her on the edge. But she was no bird who could fly away from danger.

“Velvet, you can’t die. My life wouldn’t be worth living.”

His curious words cut through the howling wind. She had to try to step away. The ground tore under her foot. As her leg slid over the edge, her knee caught on the lip.

Lucian gasped and pitched forward.

Scrambling and clawing, she thrashed away from the edge then stumbled to her feet to run. She crashed into his arms. Like a madwoman, she continued to run, away from the fall, away from death, away to him.

His arms enfolded her. “I have you.”

Still she wanted farther from the cliff. Her churning feet tangled with his legs. Her throat too tight to allow out a scream, she tried to climb over him as if he were a barrier between the fall and safety. They stumbled backward and went down with a grunt.

Yet, his arms never left her. “You’re safe. I have you,” he repeated.

Sprawling on top of him, she straddled him.

With the awareness of one who has just looked death squarely in the face, her senses magnified. The grass underneath them crunched. Solid ground. Behind and below, the waves surged on the shore with their ceaseless rhythm. She hadn’t fallen.

A lock of Lucian’s dark hair damply clung to his corded neck where his pulse raced quicksilver. His heart beat while hers stood still. His reassuring murmurs flowed over her, and she went limp. The way he cradled her made her feel safe. She hadn’t died.

“You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think I’d reach you in time.” His lips brushed her skin as he spoke.

He hadn’t wanted her to fall.

Her hands fisted in the thick pile of his robe. He smelled of saltwater, and his mouth against her temple undid her.

Awareness rose in her. Her breasts pressed against his solid chest as it rose and fell in fast bursts. She wanted closer. His every breath ricocheted through her as if he breathed for her. Against her abdomen his manhood hardened, yet his hold was comforting, not sexual.

His hands slid across her back and entwined in her hair. “You’re all right. I have you.”

Rearing up, she stared down at him.

His dark eyes tenderly searched her face. Nothing of his earlier anger darkened his visage. His gaze held hers. He was such a beautiful man.

She hardly noticed his scars anymore. But they were part and parcel of the evidence held against him. Reconciling the suspicions of murder with the kind man she knew was impossible. In spite of everything, she couldn’t believe he’d deliberately harm women he cared about. Would a man capable of such evil shower his wife’s misbegotten child with expensive dolls and insist on spending an hour with her every evening?

He shuttered his expression as if he knew she was thinking of the accusations leveled against him. She knew what it was like to hide the pain of being judged guilty when innocent. They were alike in so many ways. She understood and shared his ostracism from the rest of the world. She too knew what it was like to be shunned. The responses of his young guests had hurt him. Velvet wanted to take that from him.

Reluctantly he loosened his grip.

She was bereft. A keening pain passed through her. She never wanted him to let go. She wanted more than the thick tufts of his robe in her hands. She wanted to know what it was to be alive. She hadn’t died, but she hadn’t been living either.

Never breaking their gaze, he pushed up to his elbows. Releasing her grip on his robe, she pushed the material aside and planted her hands on his chest. He gasped. His chest was warm where her hands were cold, as if she had risen from a watery grave.

Feeling the springy hairs under her fingertips, she pushed him back down. His eyes darkened as he complied.

Her life began again. Her heart beat. Her breaths came in gasps, forcing her lips to part. A strange energy filled her flesh. Alive to every sensation, tingling and desperate for touch, she leaned into him. He made her feel alive in a way she never had before, and she wanted more.

“Velvet,” he breathed. He slid his hands up her arms, cupping her shoulders.

His mouth was just below hers, close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. Their lips met. Her sigh mingled with his growl.

She belonged here in his arms. Her lips tingled. His kiss fired her skin. Pushing his robe open farther, she flattened her palms against his firm chest. He slid his arms across her back, anchoring her to him. But there was no need. She was where she wanted to be.

Their mouths locked together, and with every touch of their tongues, her heart gushed.

He strained up against her. Exploring the corded fibers of his muscles, Velvet marveled in the difference between them. He was hard where she was soft. Strong where she was weak. He was her perfect complement, the man she was meant to become one with.

He fisted his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head back. For a second his gasps caressed her lips.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” His dark eyes searched hers.

She was past hesitation, beyond thinking of virtue as anything more than a cold cage keeping her nearer to death than life. She just wanted to feel, and by Poseidon’s trident, Lucian made her come alive. She had been sleepwalking through life, but he made her awake. And even with her obvious participation in the kisses, he still gave her a choice. Her heart softened and filled. “Yes,” she whispered, straining back toward him.

Her answer unleashed the energy she always sensed pent in him. His kiss was deeper, more insistent, and his hips strained up against her. He caught her thigh, pulled it higher and then rolled so she ended up underneath him. From hip to breast he skimmed his hand over her curves, leaving molten heat in his wake.

She arched into him. Lucian made an animal sound deep in his throat. He cradled her to him as he unfastened the button at her neck. He shoved back the edges of material. Stroking with his long fingers, he wrapped his hand around the base of her throat.

He seemed fascinated with her neck, running his fingers along the length of it. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

She tried to listen, but her flesh was waking.

He searched her face while he undid another button. “I want you more than life itself.”

“Yes,” she answered, because her brain could produce no other word. In this moment she wanted to live life completely.

Then he unbuttoned the next button and the next. He yanked down her shift. Her heart pounded and her skin heated as his exploration continued. He was not gentle but impatient, as if he could hardly stand the delay to touch her skin. She had no such barrier to him. Her caresses of the rounded muscles of his upper arms seemed to please him. She wanted to please him.

She stretched to bring their mouths together. His passionate groan was everything she could have hoped, and it touched her deep inside.

He tugged at her corset as if he could get the unyielding material to move out of his way. As he succeeded in cupping his hand around her bared breast, his growl of triumph reverberated through her. His lips left hers and he trailed his open mouth down her neck across her exposed bosom. Taking her tightening nipple in his mouth, he provoked a wantonness she hadn’t known she possessed.

Sensations wild and deep broke through her. As he nipped and tugged, currents flowed to her woman’s core. Seeking this novel and unfamiliar pleasure, she arched against him. A moan broke free in her throat as his thumb teased the other pebbled tip. He seemed intent on allowing the sensations to ebb and flow as he withdrew to circle outside the sensitive peak.

Her fingers sank into his damp hair as she tried to reguide his mouth to repeat the wildness. He instead trailed nips down the slope of one breast to the valley between and then gave the other his licks and sucking tugs. The cool air caused her unattended nipple to tighten even more. Her hips rolled and she wanted more of him.

He yanked his belt untied and pushed at her skirts. While the attention to her breast made her hips twist, his hand on pantalets ties caused alarm to flood down her spine. Her wet flesh embarrassed her.

He slid his fingers into her woman’s cleft. Not sure she was ready for this new familiarity, she pushed at him. The hurried rush of his touches seemed too fast. She wanted to ask him to slow, but he found what he was seeking, and a jolt of pure sensation made her legs twitch.

He lifted his head as if to measure her response. She couldn’t look at him as he provoked these fathomless excitements. He seemed to know her better than she knew herself. She hadn’t known such pleasures were possible.

“Please,” she whispered, not understanding the force overtaking her. She wanted to try and match him and meet his urgency. “Kiss me.”

He shifted again and engaged her in a deep kiss. So many things were happening in her, she hardly knew how to concentrate. With one finger rubbing the nubbin in between her legs, he brushed his thumb over her sensitive nipple, and his soul deep kiss joined them in a tidal swell of ardor. She wanted to tell him to do one thing, but how could she forgo any of those?

A new pressure was added at her core. She dug in with her heels, trying to move away from it. She rocked from side to side and pushed at his shoulders, but the pressure continued.

She reached down between them and encountered the hard thick length of his shaft.

“Guide me.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

A flood of new wanting poured through her, but she was ignorant. Instead she lightly ran her index finger over the throbbing length.

He moaned and yanked her hand away and increased the pressure.

He stilled her twisting hips and pushed forward. His manhood was too thick or big. Her body refused entrance. She whimpered at the growing discomfort.

Shoving his hand under her back, he clamped one hand on her shoulders, mooring her. His damp hair brushed her neck as he tucked his head down.

Then a pang ripped through her as he penetrated her. A sound between a sob and a yelp broke from her throat.

The thickness of his member stretched and filled her. He jerked back and stared down into her face.

Expressions flashed in quick succession: doubt, confusion, concern, and passion. Followed by a tender look. He stroked her cheek.

Heat flared in her face. The intimacy of his invasion was too strange. She bit her lip, unable to hold back her vulnerability. He would see all she felt about him, and she had no way to hide the truth.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. Pressing tender kisses to the corners of her lips, her nose, and her eyelids, he gently embraced her.

She was hopelessly lost. His rapid switch to gentleness transformed their encounter from a tumultuous physical thing to a caring act. Her emotions surfaced. Her heart filled, and she could not stop it. She’d never felt this way about any other man. She suspected she never would. He was the one.

Lucian stared down at Velvet. Her lids lowered as if she were unable to bear his scrutiny, yet their bodies were locked in the most intimate of acts. He strained to stay still and allow her to adjust to him.

Yet his thoughts shouted,
Mine.
She was
his.
He was the
first.
Her only lover.

The growing tentativeness of her touches had frustrated him. Then the resistance he encountered made him think he was too out of practice, but she wasn’t that good an actress. The way he entered her as if crashing through a barrier was unique to her and confirmed her inexperience.

His body thrummed with want. He had a thousand questions for her, but for whatever reason, she’d given herself to him. Desire rocketed through him and created a fresh surge of need.

Slowly he rocked his hips back, watching her face for signs of discomfort. Her passage was so narrow, thrills shuddered down his spine and his shaft throbbed. Although he wanted to slow, he was lost to the powerful pull of release. He thrust forward.

Her eyes popped open, the green glittering and soft, and her mouth rounded in an “Oh.”

She curled her legs around his hips, and his thin cord of control snapped.

He should have taken hours to seduce her and wake her to the pleasures to be had, but he could do no more than rock into her until he climaxed with a powerful ecstasy that started at the back of his neck, then moved down his body, gathering force like a towering wave until he could do no more than ride the crest and fall into her.

In the aftermath, he panted, trying to sort out everything. Velvet squirmed under him, but he didn’t want to separate from her while she was still unfulfilled. He slid his hand between their bodies. Her flat stomach quivered. Flat stomach. He managed to find the passion-slicked bud and rubbed.

“Don’t,” she whispered, and jerked her head away from his kiss.

In his selfishness, he’d allowed her passion to cool. “Velvet.”

“I have to go back inside.”

He found the tender spot behind her ear and teased it. “Don’t deny me your pleasure.”

For just a second it seemed she would allow him to complete the act for her, but then she twisted underneath him. “Don’t. I can’t.” An edge of panic tightened her voice.

He pushed up to his elbows, stroking her hair. The last thing he wanted was to withdraw and roll away from her. “Velvet—”

“Please, I don’t want to be missed.”

“It is early still,” he protested. She didn’t want to be discovered copulating on the cliffs like a wild animal. He glanced toward the house. Only the very upper windows in the nursery wing were in his line of sight. Velvet’s room, the schoolroom, and Iris’s room. “Iris won’t be awake yet.”