Far Too Tempted

by Emma Wildes

  She had watched the whole thing.

  Every wicked blow, every cruel jab, every nasty, ugly collision of fist and flesh. Even in the shrouded dimness of the gardens below her window, Jessica could see well enough to know that no gentlemanly struggle was taking place, instead it was a flurry of hands and feet and cold metal that sought victory.

  And when that knife had gleamed pale as it slashed toward Alex’s body and he’d stumbled backwards…

  Her heart had ceased to beat.

  “You’re a bloody fool.” Marcus Ramsey was as upset as she was. He paced unsteadily past his brother’s chair, the pallor of his face matching closely the ivory of his lawn shirt. Shoving shaking hands into his already untidy hair, he spun on his heel and walked back across the room. “To go out there into the darkness with nothing but that child’s toy of a knife to confront him! By God, Alex, it’s a wonder you’ve survived the war this long. Of all the brash, foolhardy—”

  “Marc, enough.” Alex said the words pleasantly, but there was an underlying edge that stopped his brother in mid- sentence. He glanced very briefly at the doorway where Jessica stood, and his eyes were shuttered. “Perhaps we can discuss this when the ladies have retired.”

  Marcus seemed to finally notice her in her frozen pose, stopping in his tracks and looking back and forth, first at the figure of his wife in her dressing gown, and then to Jessica’s own very still posture. He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

  “Retired? You must be joking.” Ariel lifted her brows high in indignation. “My heart is still racing.” She pressed her hands to her breast. “Alex, why ever didn’t you rouse one of the footman or at least wait for Marcus to accompany you into the garden?”

  Jessica moved then, very slowly, just two steps inside the study, keeping her gaze on her husband’s face. “Because there is much more to this than what appears on the surface, Ariel. There are tasks that keep you late for your wedding. There are notes delivered at dawn that send you haring back to London, even on your honeymoon. Then, there are men creeping through the gardens late at night. Men who need to be attacked with a most reckless determination.”

  She saw Alex’s shoulders stiffen under his bloodstained shirt. His head came up as she added, “I am not blind, Alex, nor deaf. Something odd is going on.”

  The look he and Marcus exchanged was not lost on her, or on her sister-in-law. Ariel said slowly, “Jessica is right, isn’t she?” She turned, a vision of righteous indignation in white robes and flaming hair. Her voice was choked. “Marcus, you are forever going places, places you don’t tell me about. It has been happening for a long time and I have tried to ignore it.” A swallow rippled the pale column of her throat. “Tried my very best. I was so sure you would never take a mistress—”

  “A mistress!” Marcus looked nothing like the reputable duke he was supposed to be but instead like a chagrined little boy with his half-buttoned shirt and tousled hair. Under the accusation in his wife’s eyes, he stepped back. His voice was husky. “Darling, I never would. There is no mistress, my dear, but every man has his secrets.”

  “Secrets that involve someone trying to murder your brother in our garden?”

  Neither man seemed to have a response to that. Jessica took another step into the room and crossed her cold arms under her breasts. Shivering, both with reaction and the evening breeze on her bare flesh, she said flatly, “Alex, why did you tell me to warn Marcus to arm himself and stay inside?”

  * * * *

  The big room was bathed in the faint glow on the horizon that signaled a new day. Alex tossed his shirt on the floor and unbuttoned his breeches, stifling a wince. One side of his face was sore and his shoulder was back to a constant low ache. The only reward for his assorted pains was that he now knew a bit more about his opponent. Since common thieves very rarely wore masks and wielded knives with lethal grace and expertise, Alex had to assume the man he’d fought in the garden the night before had been the murderer he sought to bring to light. Though it chafed to think he’d come face to face with his quarry and the man had escaped, Alex now had a very good idea of his height and weight and general build.

  Rather hard won, that knowledge, he thought wryly. When he and Marcus had refused to discuss the matter in any way, the look on Jessica’s face spoke of both hurt and suspicion. She had left the room and gone upstairs without speaking a word.

  Stepping out of his breeches, he then lifted the coverlet and slipped into bed.

  Next to him, she slept, her magnificent hair spread over the pillow. Her soft mouth was parted and Jessica’s breasts rose in even movement under the demure white lace of her nightdress, those long, dark lashes a contrast to perfect ivory skin. In the drift of dawn coming through the curtains, she looked angelically beautiful.

  And about as touchable as the moon. Even in sleep her brow was slightly furrowed and her body was angled away instead of comfortably curled next to him.

  Their second night together certainly lacked even the slightest element of romance. He and Marcus had only gotten Ariel to go up to bed with the utmost difficulty. Then, with the help of two footmen, they had spent the next hours patrolling the house, watching for any sign of the return of the intruder.

  He was weary to the bone, and worse, he felt no closer to grasping the identity of the killer.

  Damn General Wright and this unholy quest. Alex wasn’t even sure he could argue with his new wife’s anger and confusion, it was simply that he couldn’t explain his actions.

  She was understandably both unhappy with him and distrustful.

  Up on one elbow, he sifted his fingers through a fall of her silky hair, marveling over the texture and warmth of it. He could see the pulse point at the hollow of her throat and couldn’t help but lean over and lightly press his mouth to that delicate spot, inhaling the fragrance of her skin and rewarded by a small, sleepy sigh.

  His mind recognized that an early-morning seduction would not solve the problem between them in the least. Besides, he needed sleep, not lovemaking.

  His body, weary or not, didn’t seem to care.

  Nuzzling the curve of her shoulder, he smoothed his hand over the length of her body, pushing away the coverlet as he moved from breast to hip to thigh. Tuned to the subtle shifts of her breathing, he knew the instant she came awake and shifted to swallow any protest by taking her lips in a long, languorous kiss. The sudden tension in her muscles began to fade almost as quickly as it came, and she moaned against his mouth when his hand cupped her breast and his thumb brushed the nipple in tiny strokes.

  Having had a delicious taste of it twice before, he counted on her passion to override her anger. At least for a little while.

  In less than a minute he’d eased her nightdress down her shoulders, baring her breasts, and the smoothness of her stomach, hips and long legs. He followed that glide of cloth, touching and arousing every inch of skin, every hollow and soft curve. She cried out when his fingers skimmed the dampness between her legs, and her restless arch was all he needed in invitation. He muttered, “My God, I need you, Jess.”

  Her lashes lifted and for a moment they simply gazed at each other. Then she said in an achingly poignant voice, “Alex.”

  The sound of his name coming from her lips was enough. He spread her thighs wide and sank between them, finding heat and pleasure. Every gasp, every lift of her hips in response to his thrusts, all of it was so incredibly arousing that he trembled and felt the ascent of his climax grow with wild speed.

  The first spasm of her body around him made his world explode in a reddish haze of ecstasy in wave after wave. Collapsing and rolling to pull Jessica on top of him, he found he was out of breath.

  And out of his mind.

  God help him, at that very second when he’d been poised on the edge of profound pleasure, he had been tempted to whisper, I love you.

  Where had that come from?

  When he lifted his lashes, he found himself gazing into the silver depths of her eyes. Sprawled
on his chest, Jessica looked both adorably tousled and content. Her parted lips were still moist from his kisses, her delicate features framed by the lustrous fall of her gleaming hair, her lashes lowered slightly over her eyes as she stared at him. She didn’t look the least like the unhappy woman who had confronted him after the unfortunate incident in the garden.

  She said in a husky voice, “If that is how you apologize for being both furtive and neglectful, then it is very effective, Colonel.”

  For the life of him, he couldn’t think of how to respond. He was still dazed from the blaze of emotion that had gripped him when he felt his wife’s sweet response to his lovemaking. Witty repartee was out of the question.

  Jessica narrowed her eyes slightly. “Alex?”

  The uncertainty in her voice made him finally come to his senses. He essayed a smile and lifted his hand to touch her cheek. “My apologies aside, Mrs. Ramsey, apparently it is how I behave when I come to bed and find my beautiful wife sleeping so sweetly.”

  The resulting pink climbed her cheeks in a charming fashion, only to fade just as quickly. Suddenly seeming to realize she was lying naked on top of him, Jessica eased away into the cover of the blankets. Grasping a sheet to her breast, she sat up and averted her face. “There were two of them, you know.”

  Naked and content amidst the tangled bed linens, Alex blinked. “Two? Of what?”

  “I was so angry with you last night, I said nothing. I suppose it was childish.”

  He felt a spiral of warning deep in the pit of his stomach. “Last night? Jess, just a moment. What the devil are you talking about?”

  “Two men in the garden.”

  That simple revelation made him elevate to his elbows, ignoring the protest from his sore shoulder. “What?”

  She sighed. “After I ran and pounded on Marcus and Ariel’s door to deliver your message, I came back here to see what was happening. As you can imagine, I was alarmed. From the window I could see quite well. There was a fair moon, you know.”

  “Seemed dark as Hades to me, but go on.”

  Smoothing her tangled tresses away from her face, Jessica frowned. “The second man was farther away, but he seemed smaller. Shorter, that is. He was dressed the same, all dark clothes and a mask, crouched by a bush and watching the two of you. I couldn’t tell if he was armed or not.” Her smile was tremulous. “I thought about calling out to warn you but I was afraid you would get distracted and lose all advantage. I could barely watch the fight, yet was too frightened to look away. That second man seemed the least of my worries.”

  Two men? Alex’s mind raced ahead, registering the information with growing apprehension. One elusive character was more than enough. Two made the world that much more dangerous. He said carefully, “After he—the man I fought—gained the advantage and ran away, did you see where they went, either of them?”

  She shook her head, her silky mane of hair swirling across the pale skin of her smooth, bare shoulders. “I was watching you, Alex. I could see that he’d hurt you…”

  The catch in her voice caught his attention, even as he cursed inside over this new complication in the case. His entire attention seemed to snap to the bed, with the tumbled blankets and the slender naked woman sitting next him, her face averted. He reached out and touched her upper arm, sliding his fingers down to the bend of her elbow. “Yes?”

  Jessica swallowed and straightened her shoulders, not precisely jerking away but nonetheless shutting him out. “And it distracted me. I’m sorry to disappoint, but the two of them disappeared before I even thought to look for where they might be going.”

  Odd, this feeling of chagrin that assailed him. What had he hoped for? A declaration like that which he’d come close to himself? That she loved him? Not likely. Not Jessica, with her pride and hard-won defenses. She had married him because she’d had little choice. The sweet romantic love she’d once felt for him was long, long gone.

  Marriage must have addled his brains for he felt deep disappointment in the realization instead of the relief he should experience. The last thing he needed was a heartbroken young wife to leave behind when the time came for him to return to Spain.

  Wasn’t it?

  Of course it was, he told himself firmly and let go of her arm. She’d been hurt and disillusioned enough. It was his duty to protect her, and the best way he could do that was to keep things simple between them.

  Which meant the last thing in the world he should do was fall in love with her.

  * * * *

  Charles shook his little blond head. “Mine.”

  Jessica watched him run around in a circle, brandishing the item in question by swinging it over his head and whooping. She picked her skirts up and squatted down on her heels to be more on his level before she tried again. “Come on, Charles, let Aunt Jess see. Please.”

  He eased back to what he obviously thought a safe distance and clutched the strap to his chest. “You keep it.” It was an accusation.

  Since he obviously had experience with treacherous adults who took dangerous treasures away from him, Jessica decided on a new tactic. Lifting her brows, she said persuasively, “What if we could trade? Say…some sweets for your little find?”

  “Sweets?” He looked dubious, his chubby face wrinkling. “Jam,” Jessica promised solemnly, saying a silent prayer that Ariel wouldn’t have her head for filling her little son full of sugar right before lunch.

  The future duke seemed to find jam an acceptable bribe and he tossed aside the odd leather strap and dashed over to grab her hand. “Now,” he demanded in his imperious way. “Jam right now.”

  Once he was firmly ensconced in the kitchen, happily smearing jam and scones all over his little person as he devoured his food under the approving eye of the cook, Jessica excused herself. She went back to the gardens to examine the piece of leather Charles had found while crawling under a bush during a vigorous game of hide-and-seek. Sinking down onto a carved bench, she held it in her hands and felt a mixture of both curiosity and revulsion.

  With no idea of its purpose, she was still convinced that one of their night visitors had dropped it. Charles had crawled all over that same area the day before and he would not have missed it. It was about two feet long and nothing more than a strip of strong, supple leather with no buckles or other fastenings.

  Why would anyone carry such a thing? Especially considering the behavior of both her brother-in-law and her husband the night before, an unaccountable chill struck her, and she set it aside in distaste.

  In retrospect, Alex had been more than reasonably alarmed at the news of the second prowler, but he hadn’t been surprised. And once again this morning he’d set off after a quick breakfast, leaving no word of his whereabouts or when he might be home. She was sure he hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours.

  Marcus was little better, evading his wife’s questions and trying to act as if the whole bizarre episode was nothing more than some common thief trying to break into the house.

  Men, Jessica thought darkly. What ridiculous creatures they could be, with their absurd sense of superiority just because they were physically stronger and larger. She and Ariel had little illusions about the events of the previous evening, even with their husbands’ refusal to explain.

  The danger had been very real and immediate.

  Glancing at the coiled leather strap next to her, she shivered again.

  Chapter 14

  Elizabeth Ashton fluttered her eyelashes and smiled deeply, tucking in the corners of her mouth and dimpling her smooth cheeks. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, Colonel. I’m afraid I was occupied with my guests when dear Lord Orschell was killed.” A delicate shudder shook her body, but her dark eyes were avid with curiosity. “Were you special friends, then?”

  Alex lifted his teacup and took a sip, then answered evasively, “I can honestly say his murder occupies my mind a great deal, my lady.” Trying to ignore that the tea was tepid and the drawing room somewhat stuffy and filled
with the heavy scent of her perfume, he persisted, “You truly noticed nothing at all out of the ordinary? No guest who might have left without saying his goodbyes? No one wearing their cloak to cover what might be suspicious stains on their clothing, or perhaps just acting in an odd fashion?”

  Lady Ashton frowned prettily, furrowing her brow. Dressed in fashionable white, with ruffles around the bodice and sleeves, she played the contrast of her olive skin and ebony hair to advantage. Fully conscious of her beauty, she made every languid gesture, every glance and bat of an eyelash with deliberate intent.

  His impression from the night of the disastrous engagement party strengthened by the second; Elizabeth played the femme fatale very well indeed. Lord Orschell’s wife might well have basis for her suspicions, though O’Brien had found no hint of a relationship when questioning the lady’s servants.

  Lady Ashton said in demure objection, “Surely you don’t agree with the police and suspect one of my guests, Colonel?”

  “I think one can reasonably suspect anyone attending who had the strength to physically commit the act, madam.”

  Her perfectly arched brows lifted. “Then, since half my guests were women, I assume they are exonerated.”

  He didn’t answer. “According to the doctor who examined the body, Orschell was strangled before he was run through and set up in your gazebo. Tell me, could you by any chance give me an accounting of what gentlemen were in attendance that eve?”

  “I might still have the guest list written down somewhere, I suppose. That evening turned into such a nightmare I haven’t been myself.” She rose in a slow, graceful movement and smiled. “I use my late husband’s study now to manage my affairs. I’ll be right back, Colonel.”

  “I appreciate your effort, madam.”

  After she left the room, Alex paced restlessly across the rich rug and examined a rather garish watercolor of a willow tree that hung over the mantel. He needed to keep his mind on the matter at hand, yet his thoughts kept straying. After their passionate sharing that morning, Jessica had fallen back to sleep in his arms, sweetly composed and trusting in her slumber. He’d lain there and listened to every breath she took, relishing the fact he could simply hold her.