The Rogue Prince (16 page)

She was shaking so badly, it was difficult to keep her balance and march away from him with any semblance of dignity.

If only she had not been so foolish as to try to hide in this remote room to recover from Lady Dinsmore's offensive words, the confrontation with Mr. Kimbridge would never have taken place.

She gave a quick glance toward her exit and stopped short when she saw Thomas step into the room, his face a mask of fury. He seemed to be
considering his choices when Maggie stepped in front of him. She stopped him from acting rashly, placing her hand against his chest. She hoped Sabedorians did not feel honor-bound to duel in such situations.

“T
ake me away from here, please,” Maggie said, her voice sounding shaky.

Tom weighed his options and decided he could not afford to thrash Kimbridge, at least, not here at Lady Sawbrooke's house with so many ministers of state present. At the same time, it was obvious that Maggie could not return to the music room in her troubled state, or there would be talk. He drew her away to an empty room that was even farther from the party, away from Kimbridge.

“In here,” he said. He took her inside and closed the door behind them, quickly gathering her into his arms. She was shaking. “Are you all right? He did not hurt you?”

The room was dark but for a stream of faint moonlight. When she tipped her head back, Tom could barely see her. Only her glittering eyes, bright with barely contained tears. He ignored the tug in his chest, and allowed himself to take satisfaction in Kimbridge's incensed expression.

“No. It was only…” She took a shuddering breath. “O-only an inconvenience. I was thoughtless…”

Tom held her until her shaking ceased. For all her bravado, it was obvious that she'd been distressed. Afraid.

“We should get you back to the festivities before someone notices your absence.”

“Only my friend, Victoria. Lady Ranfield,” Maggie said. “She will be concerned.”

But she made no attempt to move from the circle of his arms. She pressed her face against his chest, and Tom reacted as he always did when she was near.

This slow seduction was hell.

He skimmed his hands across her back, wishing he could lie with her on the nearby sofa and do what he'd been thinking of for days. “I will come to you tonight.”

“What?”
she cried breathlessly. “What do you mean?”

“Unlock your doors after your servants retire,” he whispered. He grazed her cheek with his lips and felt her sigh in response.

“Thomas, I cannot—”

“I want you, Maggie.” He let his hands drift to her sides, his thumbs caressing the sides of her breasts. He wanted them free of her gown and chemise so he could hold them in his bare hands. “Tell me you don't feel the same.”

She gave a frantic shake of her head.

“Shall I climb up to your bedroom window?”

“No! Of course not!”

“No one will know I'm in the house,” he said quietly. “Send the servants to bed as soon as you get home.”

His mouth touched her lips and she surrendered to his kiss. As difficult as it was, he broke away. “God, I want to taste you, Maggie,” he said. “But your lips will be swollen if we keep on.”

She caught her breath and put one hand to her mouth. “I must be losing my mind.”

“As am I. I would lay you down here in this room if it were possible.”

“Oh God.” Her words were hardly audible, but Tom felt their vibration from her chest to his.

“I'll watch for a candle in a front window.”

“I must be insane.”

“Aye, Maggie. So must I.”

 

The children were asleep when Maggie arrived home, and Nurse Hawkins said they'd behaved, even though they'd only had a book story to settle them down at bedtime. Maggie somehow managed to control her nerves, thanking the nurse and dismissing her, giving her leave to take to her own bed. She gave her son and daughter a kiss without waking them, then went downstairs to her own bedchamber. Tessa was waiting for her, and Maggie tapped her foot nervously while the maid unfastened her borrowed gown.

“That will be all Tessa,” Maggie said, her head spinning with the complications of carrying out a secret tryst with a lover. She would prefer to meet
him in the drawing room, fully dressed, and allow things to progress gradually.

But she couldn't very well send Tessa away without having the girl unfasten her gown and corset. Tessa would think Maggie intended to sleep in it, which would be lunacy.

As if what she had planned was not lunacy.

“Don't you want me to take down your hair, my lady, and brush it?” Tessa asked.

“No, thank you, I can do it,” Maggie replied far more calmly than she felt. Her hair was much too wild to leave it down…it might frighten him off. Perhaps she
ought
to frighten him off! “It's late and you look sleepy. Go to your bed. And tell Mathers I won't be needing anything more.”

“Are you all right, my lady?” Tessa asked, frowning, and Maggie realized she must be acting strangely. Tense. Unsettled. Flustered.

Because that's how she felt.

She softened her tone and tried to relax. “Yes, just fine. Tired, I suppose. Go, Tessa. Have a good night's sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

Only the three servants lived in, for the cook came in daily. Once Nurse Hawkins and the other two retired, it would be all clear for Thomas.

Maggie's heart pounded at the prospect of her clandestine meeting. She knew she shouldn't put the candle that Thomas expected in the window, but some other being seemed to possess her as she pulled a dressing gown over her plain, decidedly
un
alluring chemise. She clasped her hands together at her waist and tried to calm her nerves while pon
dering whether she was making the worst mistake of her life.

The answer was no. Her marriage to Julian had been the mistake.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of wheels in the square, and she knew it must be Thomas's carriage. She gulped nervously. Obviously, he would have his driver bring him here. Drop him off. Which meant that Mr. Garay would know the reason for his employer's late visit.

She looked up at the ceiling and pictured the dimensions of her children's room. They were directly above her, with Nurse Hawkins at the back. Hawkins would not hear them if they happened to—

“Oh God,” Maggie whispered to herself, hardly able to believe what she was contemplating.

She started to leave her bedchamber, but saw her drawing tablets in plain sight. She grabbed them and quickly hid them under some clothing in her trunk. She had to keep them hidden, or Thomas would see his face on her pages. He might very well figure out who Randolph Redbush was, but beyond that he would realize how much his magnificent face occupied her mind.

Taking a deep breath, she went down to the main floor to make sure Tessa and Mathers had retired. She told herself that she hadn't yet decided whether to go through with it or not, but she moved through the house with a distinct purpose.

The whole house was dark and still. Her body vibrated with arousal, with the need for one man's
touch. The arguments she tried to make against an affair with Thomas sounded feeble to her own heart.

It was now or never.

 

With the kind of friends Tom kept, he had learned early on how to pick a lock, so it would be no problem to get into Maggie's house. He knew how to move undetected through a dark house, too, but tonight was Maggie's choice.

He kept watch on Julian Danvers's house as he leaned against his carriage across the square, telling himself that the seduction of Blackmore's widow was all part of the plan. It was just one of the threads he was going to pull when the time was right. That she was entirely delectable made it so much the easier.

He tossed away his cheroot when he saw the light appear in the window, and spoke quietly to Oliver. “Drive around to the mews and wait for me there. Take a nap, Ollie.” He had no idea how long he would be, though he was hoping for several hours.

The door to number eight was unlocked, and Tom entered the house, picking up the lamp Maggie had left for him on a table near the staircase. He climbed quietly while his heart thudded loudly in his ears. He could not recall another time when he was so eager to sink into a lover. Knowing that it was Maggie who waited for him was almost more than he could bear.

Suddenly she was there, standing in the doorway
of her bedchamber. Her hair was still pinned up as it had been earlier, but she'd changed out of her evening dress. Now she wore some loosely flowing gown of white with tiny sleeves that left most of her shoulders and arms bare. Lit by the fireplace behind her, Tom hardened at the sight she made.

He closed the distance between them. All at once, he took her into his arms and kissed her hungrily, starved for the taste of her. Ravishing her mouth, he moved abruptly and pressed her back against the wall, spearing his tongue into her mouth. He slid his hands down her spine and cupped her bottom, feeling the smooth skin beneath her thin chemise.

“Ah, Maggie,” he said, breaking the kiss, surprised at the harsh rasp of his own voice. “You are so sweet.”

He pulled her tight against his erection and groaned at the staggering sensation of her feminine cleft cradling him.

She pushed his coat from his shoulders, and Tom was grateful for the foresight that had caused him to unfasten his waistcoat, and leave his cravat in the carriage. She opened the buttons of his shirt, and pulled it from his trews. But before she could pull it over his head, he started on the combs in her hair.

He turned her around so that her back was to him as he loosened her hair, letting it fall in exquisitely feminine waves to her shoulders, the scent of roses floating all around them. “So soft,” he said, slipping one small sleeve down, giving him space to kiss her bare shoulder. Whispering light kisses
up to the crook of her neck, he moved one hand to her abdomen and pulled her back against him. He felt the fullness of her breast above his hand, but he had no intention of going too fast.

He eased her hips back against his hard thickness and shuddered with her exquisite femininity. Maggie reached back and bracketed his hips with her hands, and Tom felt as though he would come out of his skin.

He swept her into his arms and sat down on a chair near the bed, keeping her on his lap. The fire-light glowed softly on her face and he cupped her cheek as he leaned forward and kissed her mouth. She responded with the same incredible ardor he'd experienced every other time he'd kissed her, though this time he felt her tugging his shirt up over his back.

Tom broke the kiss and helped her, more than anxious to yank it over his head and have it gone. She put her hands on his bare chest near his collarbones and inched them down. “Aye. That's it—touch me.”

Her touch was delicate, seeking, examining him tentatively, as though she had never touched a man's chest before. Her fingers slid through the dark, wiry hair, and when she brushed his nipples with her fingertips, the awesome sensation shot directly to his groin and he groaned.

“Oh!” she whispered, drawing her hand away.

He captured it and put it back. “More,” he growled, aroused beyond belief by her naïve explorations.

She resumed her gentle torture, then made it worse by leaning forward to kiss one of his nipples. She swirled her tongue over it while caressing the other with her fingertips. When she sucked it into her mouth, Tom's cock grew, aching to be inside her.

He lifted her chin and caught her lips with his own as he pulled the ribbon at the front of her chemise, loosening it so that the skimpy garment slipped down her arms. The fragile fabric caught on the tips of her breasts, and Tom nudged it down, baring her breasts. He brushed his fingertips across one pebbling nipple, then palmed her breast in his hand.

The sensual touch startled her, and Tom wondered if it was possible that she had never felt the kind of sensations he was creating now. It made him feel far more powerful than it should, but he was grateful to her negligent husband. Being the first to show her carnal pleasure was far beyond erotic. Tom could not imagine being harder or more impatient to make love to a woman.

Maggie grabbed hold of his shoulders and sighed, letting her head drop slightly back while he toyed with her breasts. He dipped his head down and pressed an openmouthed kiss to the rapid pulse in her throat, then progressed upward, finally taking her lips with his in a light kiss that quickly deepened.

As their tongues tangled, Tom felt Maggie's hands on him, sliding down, exploring again. When she reached the waist of his trews and touched him
through the heavy cloth, Tom took control and unfastened the placket. He drew out his hard flesh and took her hand, wrapping her fingers around him.

Her intimate touch was breathtaking. She ran her fingers lightly over the tip, then down the shaft, holding him loosely and stroking gently at first, then with a tighter grip. She progressed to a faster stroke that made Tom feel as though he might explode.

When he could take no more, he stood, setting Maggie on her feet before him. She watched with avid interest as he pulled off his boots and stepped out of his trews. He started on her chemise, but it caught on her hips, and Tom slid his finger between the cloth and her skin. Maggie grabbed his hand, seeming reluctant to bare herself before him.

“Naked, Maggie,” he whispered. “Let me see you.”

“But I'm not—My pregnancies…”

“Made you the most enticing woman I've ever known.”

He dropped down to one knee and pressed his face to her abdomen, easing the chemise down, slowly exposing her feminine mound. He skated his fingers across the hair at the crux of her legs, then down her thighs as the gown fell to the floor. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her belly, then lower. He skimmed his hands back up her legs, compelling her to open for him.

“Christ, you are beautiful.”

“What are you—Oh, God.”

He slid one finger across the sweet feminine notch between her legs and touched the center of her pleasure. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the spot, and licked it with his tongue.

“Thomas!”

She grabbed his head, but did not push him away. He cupped her buttocks and sucked her, then stroked her with his lips and tongue. He looked up at her as he pleasured her, past her smooth torso and her full, enticing breasts, all the way up to her eyes, watching him with wonder.

His cockstand became almost painful, and when she suddenly stiffened and gave out a soft cry, Tom nearly climaxed himself. He managed to keep up his sensual assault until her trembling slowed, and he kissed his way up to her breasts, then fondled her nipples until she came again.