The Fire's Center (37 page)

Riona melted into his arms, limbs and gown seams straining as they sought to get closer and closer, tumbling onto the bed in a welter of limbs, until at last he was inside her, their heartbeats thundering in time with his ardent thrusts, which she eagerly arched into.

Nay, she even begged for more, for just as he had broken down her barriers in the bright sunshine, her passionate kisses and caresses coaxed him to at last flinging off his own restraint completely.

He plunged and reared, plunged again, and then laced both her legs around his elbows. One broad hand splayed across the small of her back. The other slipped between them to caress the nub of her desire.

"God, Riona, oh God," he gasped, as her whole body tightened and clenched around him.
 

"Yes, Lucien, please, yes, all of it, now, please!" she urged, not sure what she was pleading for, but knowing it was close.

She felt him swell inside her, and their sanity slip. The storm broke over them both like a crashing wave of fire, scorching in its intensity as their climaxes blazed in furious abandon for a dazzling moment that seemed to go on for ages, yet ended all too soon.

Lucien collapsed on top of her with a groan of sheer raw delight, his whole weight on top of her, heart to heart, with him still buried deep in her most secret space.

"Oh, God, Riona," he gasped again, so spent he couldn't even open his eyes.

"It's all right, my love, rest now, rest," she soothed, reveling in the sensation of every inch of her body being caressed by his.

Thus entwined, they slept the dreamless sleep of lovers whose every desire had been fulfilled at last.

But all too soon, the new day dawned, and their duties beckoned once more. It was time to go back to Dublin, to the real world of propriety and obligation.
 

After a perfunctory cuddle in the bed and some hasty ablutions, Lucien brought their bags downstairs.

She was just about to follow, when a sudden impulse made
 
Riona run up to the attic, where she gathered all of Uncle Oliver’s sketch-books.

"What do you want with those?" he asked, surprised, when he saw her come down into the foyer with them.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Nothing, I just thought there was no sense in leaving them here, with the house being closed up. They’d get damp and become ruined."

"You’re absolutely right, my dear," he agreed.

Lifting them from her arms, he brought them out to the coach, leaving her to trail along to make sure nothing had been left behind.

Nothing except their romance….

Riona sighed, wishing for a kiss, wishing even more that she could confide in him.

Why was it all fine when they were just the two of them alone together, but as soon as the rest of the world knocked on their door, it caused problems between them?

I suppose to a man like Lucien, restraint and propriety, wealth and position are everything. It was stupid of me to believe otherwise. Those sketchbooks will be a handy reminder of that,
Riona thought to herself as she gazed out the window at the gathering storm about to descend overhead.

All the same, though, Uncle Oliver had spoken of love before he died.
 
If only she could understand his last dying wish so he could be at peace…

As for herself, now that she had experienced the lovemaking of a man like Lucien, felt the fire of love and passion blaze within, could she ever be at peace again?

Riona was sorry to return to her lonely bed at Merrion Square West that night, and tossed and turned restlessly for ages playing over in her mind all that had happened between herself and Lucien down in Wicklow. But it has to stop, it had to.

Sooner or later, I will fall pregnant, if I haven’t done so already. Then where will I be? Out on the streets without a job and no way to support my family,
she reflected miserably.

"But I love him. Is that so wrong?" she groaned aloud.

Riona knew in her heart it was not, but in the eyes of the rest of society, it was dreadful.

So despite how sure she had felt in Wicklow that they had a
 
bright future together, once back in Dublin, all intimacy at an end, she once more began to have serious doubts about her place in Lucien's life.

Riona tried to remain polite, pleasant and aloof as she and Lucien resumed their daily routine back in the capital. Seeing that he made no attempt to share his life with her as a husband would a wife, she took to leaving for the clinic still earlier in the mornings, long before Lucien was even up for breakfast.

She attended late lectures or haunted the medical college library in an effort to avoid bath and dinner time with Lucien.
 
The last thing she wanted was to seem desperate, needy, or as if she expected something in return for what they had shared.
 

When Lucien asked casually about the change in her routine, Riona had merely replied that she had a great deal of catching up to do after the time they had been away. She also pointed out that the fete was at the start of May, and many things had to be prepared.

Lucien had to console himself with the fact that Riona was at least mixing with good company when she went over to Mrs. Allen’s every so often to make plans for the fete.

However, one evening he was livid to discover Riona standing in the foyer talking with Charles Durance.

"Good evening, Charles, Miss Connolly. I hope I’m not disturbing anything," Lucien said, eyeing the other man coldly.

Damn it, why did he have to be so handsome, like a Greek god,
Lucien thought resentfully, taking in his flaxen blond hair and pale blue eyes, such a contrast with his own dark looks.

"Not at all. Don’t be silly, old man. This is your house." Charles smiled, not in the least fazed by Lucien’s glowering looks.

"I was just going to offer Charles a drink in the drawing room while I came to see if you were busy, but since you’re here now, I’ll leave you both to it," Riona said as she hung up her cloak on the clothes tree in the hall closet and strode through the foyer.

Charles wished Riona to stay and talk with them, but she had already begun ascending the stairs, and with a final, "Thank you for escorting me home," Riona went up to her room.

She never even gave Charles another thought until there was a rap on her door about an hour later, just as she was about extinguish her lamp, and Lucien came storming in.

He paced up and down the room for a few moments before demanding angrily, "Just what do you think you’re doing, having a man in the house without even knowing whether or not I was at home!"

Riona blinked, and stammered, "W-well, I saw the light on in your consulting room window, so I just assumed you were at home. In any case, where is the harm? He was simply going over the fete
 
with Mrs. Allen, and he offered to take me home in his carriage. It would have seemed rude to refuse. And you’re the one who is always berating me for sending the carriage away and walking!"

"Once and for all, Riona, will you get it into your head that there are certain proprieties to be observed, and entertaining men alone here is not amongst them!" Lucien barked.

Riona rose from the bed and stood squarely in front of him. "I wouldn’t have had him in if I had found you to be out! Besides, Mr. Durance was just walking me to the door to make sure I got inside safely. For Heaven’s sake, Lucien, give me credit for some common sense!

"We were barely even alone for a second. I didn't think I needed any chaperones, so I sent the servants to finish locking up.

"And while you are lecturing me on proprieties, may I just point out that you shouldn’t really be standing inside my bedroom to do so?" she added waspishly.

He shot her a furious glance from under beetling brows. "Well, where else can I talk to you, when you’ve been doing nothing but avoiding me like the plague ever since we got back from Wicklow!"

She folded her arms in front of her and lifted her chin. "I’ve just been observing the
proprieties
, as you told me to do, remember?"

Lucien gritted his teeth in frustration, and began to pace up and down on the hearthrug in front of the fireplace.

At last he paused and turned to face her. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I hate it when we fight like this. Please, Riona, why must it be all or nothing?" Lucien pleaded as he suddenly reached for her.

Riona stepped back hastily. "I’m not the one who laid down the rules, Lucien, you did! I’m only a guest here. I have no choices, no power, and as you so idiotically tried to point out, no needs and desires of my own because I'm a woman, apparently. So therefore, since I get no say in what happens between us, I'm doing my best to keep away from you."

He stopped prowling and slapped his hand on the mantelpiece. "Well, it doesn’t sit easy with me."

"Then maybe I should leave?" Riona suggested angrily.

"No, not that!" Lucien practically shouted, striding forward intently.

"Lucien, stop this!" Riona ordered as he grasped her by the shoulders. She began to struggle to break free.

"I can’t stop myself, damn it, don’t you see?" Lucien rasped as the top buttons of her nightgown popped and scattered in every direction.

"I’m trying to stop you!" she panted, pushing against his chest futilely, but it was all she could do to remain unresponsive in his embrace. "You told me it had to stop between us, remember? I'm trying to be strong."

"Do you really want me to stop?" Lucien breathed as he smothered Riona’s face and throat in kisses.

"No, I don’t," she panted, "but nor do I want you to blame me for this in the morning."

He raised his head to look in her eyes, and saw the passion and desire etched in her every feature.

Then he shook his head, and for one heart-wrenching moment, she was sure he was going to leave.

Then he said, "If anyone is to blame it’s me," Lucien acknowledged as he reached over to turn out the lamp, and began to remove his shoes and untie his cravat.

Riona hesitated only a moment before she tugged her nightdress over her head. She moved into the circle of his arms, offering each of her breasts to be kissed in turn, before accepting the famished kiss he gave her and returning it with a hungry one of her own.