Taste of the Devil (13 page)

There was more than one kind of outlaw.

Some robbed with a pistol or a sword. At least they were honest about being thieves. But, the one who sits behind a desk and commits skullduggery with a plume... Well, there was the man to worry most about.

Unconsciously, Tyler stroked Ginny’s back. He’ll not take another bloody thing from me, he vowed. His arms came around Ginny in a possessive grip. Least of all my wife. The Duke unwittingly gave her to me, and I intend to protect her in spite of it.

It was the Duke’s first mistake as far as Tyler was concerned.

Ginny was no duty to him but a gift he could come to treasure. Like him, she had suffered, but she would not suffer because of him. Lord knew he had few principles left in his sordid life.

He was shocked to discover a scrap of decency still clinging to his corrupted hide.

By a thread.

When the coach arrived at the townhouse, Ginny was still sound asleep in the protective custody of his arms. He carried her inside the house, instructing his butler, Pratt, to make up the room adjoining his for Lady Devon.

If the butler was surprised that his wayward master had returned home with a new wife in tow, he didn’t show it. Pratt was a very astute man and rarely questioned his lordship. The fact that Lord Devon had never brought a woman home before did not concern him. If he suspected certain truths about Tyler Devon, he never let on. He was paid to do a particular job, and he did it well. In the tradition of all great English butlers, Pratt gave his complete allegiance and loyalty to his master.

Tyler carried Ginny to his own room while hers was being made up. Gently depositing her on his bed, he briefly entertained the idea of leaving her there.

He observed her lying on top of the counterpane from under lowered lids. The entire time he stood by the bed, he tried to convince himself it would be better to wait. So much better.

His gaze traveled unerringly to the pouting raspberry lips. Lips that seemed to be innocently waiting for the tender press of his own. He almost groaned aloud.

God’s teeth, he never claimed to be a saint.

To hell with it.

He was just leaning over her when she drowsily opened her eyes and smiled up at him with a sweet and trusting expression. Tyler paused, then cursed under his breath.

Bloody hell, he couldn’t do it!

Not with her looking at him like that.

Ginny yawned rather loudly, sitting up to stretch her arms over her head. “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you, Tyler. I really should have kept you company on the long drive.”

She was apologizing to him. Tyler looked away feeling strangely guilty. Damn and Blast, who ever heard of a guilty rake!

“Am I in my room?” Ginny peered through the darkness to the room beyond the bed curtains, observing the masculine decor.

“No. My butler Pratt is preparing your room. It should just be a few minutes. Would you like some refreshment while we wait?”

“Thank you, no. I’m still rather tired.” She gazed pensively at the surroundings. It felt peculiar to be in a man’s bedroom. Especially this man’s. The infamous womanizer Lord Devon. Her hand fell to the soft coverlet on the bed, idly stroking it. How many other women had he brought here?

Tyler’s glance fell to her hand on his bed. He considered her fingers lightly gliding across the silk sheets highly provocative. Unwarranted, he felt himself stirring as a tremor of desire trickled through him.

In an effort to stop her unconsciously seductive gesture, Tyler sat on the bed and placed his hand over hers.

It was a mistake.

The sensation of her tender hand under his rocked him. He automatically closed his fingers about hers, bringing their entwined hands up to his heart. His other hand lightly skimmed along her forearm.

Ginny trembled at the forward caress. What was the man doing? Why had his eyes become so bright, his voice so husky?

“Ginny, love, I know we said certain–”

A knock at the door interrupted his words. With an exasperated expletive, he released her, his voice brusque with annoyance. “Yes, what is it?”

Pratt’s muffled voice came through the door. “Her ladyship’s room is ready, my lord.”

“Thank you, Pratt. I’ll see to it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my lord.”

Tyler shrugged off the untimely interruption with good grace. It was just as well; it wouldn’t do for him to terrorize the poor girl the first night in her new home. Besides, his original plan was the best. She needed time that much was obvious. He’d wager the chit had no idea how close she had just come to being thoroughly seduced.

Convinced for the moment that he was following the right course, Tyler abruptly stood, showing her the door to the adjoining room before he changed his mind.

* * *

Mabel and Charles arrived bright and early the next morning.

Charles made sure to let everyone in the household know he was now in residence. His first patrol of the house was conducted with a condescending nose in the air and a chubby sway of the backside.

When Mabel opened the bed curtains to let in the day’s sunshine, she was very relieved to see that his lordship had kept his word. Ginny was alone in the big bed.

“Rise and shine, me girl. Are ye going ta lie abed all day?”

Ginny felt something heavy bounce on the bed, then heard a whirring sound coming closer and closer to her face. Scraggly whiskers tickled her chin.

“Charles, don’t.”

She muttered the same thing every morning to the obstinate cat. Every morning Charles ignored her words, rubbing his face right into her neck.

“Very well. Very well– I’m up!” Sitting up, she pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes.

“I’ve unpacked all yer things already. Go on wit’ ye and get dressed. In the mean time I’ll go tell that fancy french cook he’s got ta fix ye somethin’ decent and English to eat. Don’t tarry too long or chances are that cook will get in a snit. He’s just the type that one. Why, I–”

“Mabel, where did you put Reggie’s clothes? It wouldn’t do to have anyone in the house find them.”

“Wot? Oh, them things. I put them under the bed in a box. T’would be best for ye, miss, to forget they’s there.”

“Don’t be silly, nothing’s changed. I still plan on meeting Henley at Frock’s whenever I can.”

“Nothing good will come o’ it, mark me words. Yer husband won’t be liking his bride going about dressed as a man.”

“Well there’s nothing he can do about it.”

Mabel snorted. “That one? He’ll do as he pleases.

Don’t ye be thinkin’ otherwise. I can tell by the look o’

him he’s no man ye can twist to ye liking. And right handsome he is too, into the bargain.”

Ginny flushed. “That’s how much you know, Mabel.

Lord Devon does whatever I tell him to.” Sort of.

“Besides, he won’t be finding out about Reggie so we don’t have to worry about it.”

“As ye say, miss.” Mabel shook her head as she left the room closing the door behind her.

Ginny jumped off the bed eliciting a protest from Charles. He undoubtedly thought they might have a nice little nap together.

“Shh!” She scratched behind his ears. “I have to check something; please, be quiet for a few minutes.” She threw up the dust ruffle on the bed, crawling halfway underneath to sort out the contents of the box. Everything seemed to be there.

* * *

Tyler opened the connecting door to Ginny’s room only to be confronted with the sight of a luscious derriere thrusting out from under the bed.

It was bobbing amid the bed ruffles.

A broad grin etched across his rugged face. He’d know that backside anywhere.

He paused for a second to admire the view, letting it sink slowly and fully into his mind for later replaying.

What was she doing under there anyway?

Leaning against the door frame, he crossed his arms over his chest to assess the situation at hand. His wife had one beautiful bottom. He cleared his throat, loudly.

“Ahem.”

Ginny banged her head on the bedboard. “Ow!”

Tyler grinned broadly. “What are you doing under there?”

She quickly scrabbled out from under the bed, rubbing at the sore spot on her head. “What are you doing out here?”

He walked over to her, skimming her attire. Corset and chemise. Again. Was this a favorite secret uniform of hers?

If so, he was all for it. “I asked you first, Lady Corset.”

“Don’t call me that. I– I was looking for Charles.”

Meow came from the bed.

Tyler looked at her skeptically. “One might try the top of the mattress before the underside.”

Directly on cue Charles jumped off the bed, scooting underneath it.

Tyler chuckled. “Supposing that miscreant wanted to be found, of course.”

Ginny silently thanked her cat for corroborating her story.

“So what did you enter my room for– without knocking?”

Tyler ignored the criticism. He’d come into this room any damn time he felt like it. Without knocking. If she thought he was a man who asked permission for anything, she had wrongly assessed him.

He walked purposely around her. His hot breath caressed her neck as his smooth, low voice tickled her ear.

“Would you care to go riding with me this morning?”

Her nerve endings sizzled from ear to toe. “Riding?”

Her voice cracked.

“Yes.” His arms came around her from behind, drawing her back to him. “After all, you have assured me you are such a good mount.” The languorous suggestion played havoc with her pulse. He was teasing her in some way again... What was the rogue insinuating?

Whatever it was, she didn’t care much for it. She attempted to unclasp his strong hands from her waist.

He ignored her efforts, pulling her close to him.

His head dipped; velvety lips nuzzled lightly at her throat.

“Tyler, what are you doing?” she snapped.

“I’m tasting you,” he whispered against the skin of her nape.

“Tasting me?” That made her pause. The man was decidedly strange. “Whatever for?”

“What indeed.” He smiled sinfully. His tongue glided along the pulse beat at the juncture of her shoulder, laving his favorite spot. Of course the tender spot bewitched him once again. So he began to throb. Once again.

For her part, Ginny felt quite out of breath. “You are very wicked, my lord.”

“It has been said before, ask anyone.”

“You– you really shouldn’t be hugging me like this.”

“Yes, I definitely should.” His wide palms pressed her closer as he continued to nuzzle her. Ginny felt her heartbeat quicken.

“But–”

“Shh. It’s quite all right. People who are related often hug.” His warmth enfolded her as he sought out the ribbons of her chemise.

Ginny couldn’t think. His soft touch was doing the strangest things to her insides. Her head fell back against his shoulder. “They d–do?”

“Yes, they do.” He untied the first bow, letting his thumb skim the dewy skin he had uncovered. “After all, love, we have a bargain. You need not be concerned.” His hot mouth traveled across her shoulder.

Ginny shivered. His hands sought out the second bow.

Something hard pushed against the thin cotton of her chemise.

Ginny’s eyes flew open. “What do you have in your pants?” She blurted out.

Tyler’s hands froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“Something you have in your pants is poking me.”

“Something I...?” Realization dawned. He buried his head in her hair in an attempt to muffle his laughter, but she heard it just the same.

She turned in his arms. “I fail to see what you find so humorous.”

Tyler watched her righteous indignation with an earsplitting grin. He didn’t know how she managed it, but the girl had an uncanny way of thwarting his expert seductive technique. And she didn’t even know it. He started laughing again. It had been so long since he had laughed like this...

Still in the circle of his arms, Ginny leaned back, placing her palms against his chest. “Stop laughing! I see nothing funny. You are quite odd, my lord. Oh, where did it go? It isn’t here anymore–”

Tyler’s roaring laughter echoed down the hallway.

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Laugh at me, if you will. I'll let you in on a secret; I truly had no idea what rogue had in his pants. But, I was fairly sure I did not want an introduction to it. Girls are kept completely in the dark in these matters. Should I ever have daughter I vow that will not be the case. She will be taught the same as a boy. Now where was I? Ah yes, at this point you might be asking yourself: how on earth did the bloody pirates get into the mix? (And I do thank you again for allowing me to tell the story in its entirety; trust me, it will certainly come clear in the end.) Well, this is where it all tightens up, for at that moment on another part of the world, the last lynchpin was preparing to fall into place. Enter that plucky, infamous scoundrel, Lord Lion...

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Chapter Twelve

“Off the coast of the Jaiman Islands, West Indies "Mr. Tolliver!"

"Sir?" The lanky Brit bounded over to the port side of the ship where his captain stood assessing the skyline and the sea.

It was a clear night; moonrays rode the gentle waves.

Still, as every seaman knew that could change quickly in these waters.

It was a gift to be able to smell the weather on the wind, to feel the changes, to sense the mood of the fickle mistress they risked their lives to ride.

The captain of the Chimera had such a gift.

A good edge, Mr. Tolliver reckoned. It had saved their skins on many an occasion. Why, just last month they had run a man-of-war that had been sniffing them out for days onto the reefs around King's Bay. A bad storm was on the horizon and coming fast. Instead of finding a nice, safe cove to drop anchor and wait her out, the Lion had ordered them to batten down the hatches and sail two leagues out before bringing a spring upon her cable.

The Captain wouldn't chance being cornered in a cove, no sir. He lured those lobsterbacks in right then and there, and at the last minute turned the ship a few degrees port. The Chimera skimmed the reef with the smooth sail of a dolphin’s glide.