Fever Dreams

by Nicole Jordan

  His gaze settled on the window, on the quiet garden outside. He was still aching with need, with unsated hunger, his craving for her in no way quenched. “I have a better idea.”

  Slowly withdrawing from between her thighs, he let her slide down his body and set her on his feet, but he kept her captive there as he removed her hat and loosened her hair from its pins so that it fell free around her shoulders. Then Ryder took her hand and led her outside to the secluded garden.

  “I want to make love to you here,” he explained when she gave him a questioning glance.

  He slipped off her jacket and then shed his own, along with his cravat. But there he stopped. The high stone walls offered total privacy, but if a servant should happen along, he didn’t want Eve’s lithe, lush body to be seen by any eyes but his own. Besides, there was something erotic about making love to her with all their clothing on.

  Sinking onto the soft grass to lie on his back, he drew Eve down beside him. He wanted to love her more slowly this time, amid the sunshine and flowers. If he closed his eyes he could imagine this was the sensual paradise of Cyrene, with a cloudless blue sky overhead, the heat shimmering around them alleviated by a cooling sea breeze.

  But he didn’t want to close his eyes. He wanted to drink Eve in.

  Sunshine was tangled in her hair. Ryder reached up to capture a tress where it glimmered with soft brilliance. The bright strands felt cool and silky against his fingers.

  When she smiled, he watched her, spellbound. Eve was golden honey and sunshine, vibrant and alive and unbelievably beautiful. And when she smiled down at him with that beguiling siren’s smile, his heart lifted with pure joy.

  Carefully, not daring to break the spell, he drew her over him so that she straddled his bare loins, with her naked thighs on either side of his hips.

  She was still smiling softly. When she reached down to touch his lips with her fingertips, the simple caress sent a surge of pure emotion through Ryder. Rich, dark emotion so powerful he was drowning in it.

  His throat tight, he lay beneath her, gazing up into her blue eyes, aching with desire so raw that he felt on fire. It was as if the warmth of her seeped into him and saturated his soul.

  Then she bent to him. Their kiss was hot, slow, searing…and the fever started again, swift and enveloping—and as inevitable as the rising of the sun.

  Without breaking the kiss, Eve eased herself down over his rigid flesh. She was primed, silky soft, yielding, and she gloved him so tightly, it stole his breath away.

  When she began to move above him, another hot wave of desire ripped through him. He could no longer fight the need, the ache that consumed him. His hands roamed frantically over her body, his teeth clenching against the heat swelling inside him. It was white hot, burning him alive.

  Eve’s back arched as she took him deeper into her center…and then came the incredible release—a sudden sunburst of joy as they crested together. The sky blazed bluer, the sun burned brighter in that instant. The hoarse shout Ryder gave as he climaxed was literally ripped from deep inside his soul.

  Afterward, they lay there bonelessly, savoring the rapture of their joining. Eve had collapsed upon him, and Ryder had no strength left to move.

  She left him defenseless, filled with a longing so potent it made him feel helpless. He would never stop wanting her like this, with this wild, insatiable, soul-deep hunger. He had never felt this connection, this bond, with anyone but Eve.

  He could feel the words of love rising to his lips, words he didn’t dare speak. He loved her with a fierceness that he’d never fathomed feeling for anyone. Yet he didn’t know how to make her accept that love.

  All I want is your heart, your soul, for the rest of our lives, he wanted to say.

  But it was too soon.

  He wanted her heart and soul and body. Wanted her warmth and laughter lighting up his days. And he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

  For now, however, all he could do was chip away at Eve’s defenses, one passionate moment at a time.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  Bright sunshine lit the cavalcade of carriages that left Hayden Park late the following morning, heading for the ruins of a medieval abbey some nine miles away. Eve rode in the first barouche, whose front and rear hoods had been folded back, along with Ryder and the aunts.

  Trying to ignore the handsome man lounging in the seat opposite her, Eve raised her face to the sun, reveling in the beautiful day. Her spirits were higher than they had been in weeks.

  It was foolish, perhaps even dangerous, to be this happy, she knew. And truly, she had no reason to be so lighthearted. Her life was still in peril. And her interlude with Ryder was merely a temporary affair. A relationship based on nothing more than mutual pleasure.

  Yet after yesterday’s lovemaking, Eve found it utterly impossible to pretend indifference to Ryder. All last evening during dinner and the entertainments afterward, she’d been keenly conscious of his every move. All night long, her dreams of him had been wild and delicious. And this morning—at breakfast and then later when the guests and servants were sorting themselves out to climb into the various conveyances—Eve had been aware of the delicious heat curling in her body whenever she simply glimpsed at Ryder.

  It was probable, she acknowledged reluctantly, that to some degree she was suffering from the malady that poets lamented: sheer infatuation. She had read about the feverish madness that could take control of the senses, the blind yearning. She just had never expected to experience the symptoms herself.

  She’d never known how brazen she could be, either. Yesterday at the dower house, she had given in to her carnal cravings, greedily offering herself to Ryder and becoming a wild utterly abandoned sexual creature she didn’t even recognize.

  It was shameful to enjoy her wantonness so much. Yet she couldn’t stem the relentless feelings of excitement and desire that rose in her whenever she merely thought of him.

  Ryder thrilled her, made her feel emotions so shattering they brought tears to her eyes. He could make her come apart.

  And she believed now that he reciprocated her feelings, at least in small measure. Yesterday she’d felt the raw hunger in his touch, in his searing embrace. His kisses had been devouring, possessive, intense; the look in his eyes demanding, hungry, hot.

  And at this moment, when she met Ryder’s dark gaze across the short space between them, she felt a surge of pure unadulterated lust.

  Flushing, Eve forced herself to look away. A man shouldn’t have such power over a woman. Even more shameful was how badly she wanted to make love to him again. Having to wait to see Ryder alone was a torment. They were surrounded by dozens of people, so that they couldn’t even carry on a private conversation.

  Which was why he had resolved to ride with Eve this morning. Not only to offer her protection but also to apprise her and the aunts of the status of his investigation. Drucilla in particular wanted to be informed of every new development in uncovering the identity of their assailant, although Beatrice, who was still recovering from her burns, was content to leave the search solely to Ryder.

  Eve herself was of two minds. On such a bright, sparkling morning, it was easy to dismiss the danger she was in. And yet a part of her was grimly determined to hear Ryder’s report.

  After the barouche got under way, Drucilla focused her penetrating gaze on Ryder. “Now then, Sir Alex, you may tell us what progress you have made on ending this nightmare.”

  “Not as much as I would like, my lady,” Ryder said, leaning forward to reply. His own trusted coachman was driving, Eve was aware, but he kept his voice low, presumably to avoid being overheard by anyone in the following carriages.

  “Do you still consider our former steward the chief suspect?” Eve asked quietly.

  “Yes,” Ryder answered. “I’ve questioned your current steward at length about Tobias Meade, and I’ve learned a bit more from your other servants and some of your tenant farmers. Plus, I’ve had my men haunting
the taproom of the village tavern in order to listen to the local gossip. But other than having poor management skills, Meade seems to be fairly harmless. He was not well liked, but thus far, no one considers him capable of initiating so violent a revenge as murder.”

  “Do you even know where he is living now?”

  “My sources tell me he left here with his wife Mabel six months ago, directly after being fired, but his friends claim to have no idea where he’s gone. I have men searching in Kent for him now. Meade reportedly came here from Kent to apply for the position of steward. I’ve reviewed all the estate accounts you gave me, on the chance of uncovering his character references, but unfortunately, your husband didn’t keep any detailed records of employee transactions.”

  “Yes,” Eve murmured. “Richard concerned himself with the Park as little as possible.”

  “And what of our cousin, the new Lord Hayden?” Drucilla interjected. “Do you still think him a suspect?”

  Ryder shook his head. “I can’t see him as our culprit. He’s elderly and not in the best of health, and is even less interested in running the estate than his predecessor. And while he might like to rid himself of Lady Hayden after the headaches she’s caused him by championing the estate tenants, that isn’t strong enough motive for murder. Your neighbor, Lord Gyllford, however, can’t be ruled out until I can examine his circumstances more thoroughly. He might indeed be the vindictive sort, offended enough by Lady Hayden’s rejection to seek reparation for his wounded vanity.”

  Eve glanced back over her shoulder at the carriage directly behind them, which held the twins and Viscount Gyllford, in addition to the Duchess of Gower, Lady Keeling, and one of Claire’s beaux. Gyllford, Eve acknowledged, was still imposing himself shamelessly on her company. If he was angry at her because she had turned down his offers of marriage, he wasn’t showing it, yet he continued to pursue her with the persistence of a rat terrier.

  “I haven’t decided if he’s as thickheaded as he appears,” Ryder added dryly, “or merely an excellent actor.”

  “I don’t believe his obtuseness is an act,” Eve said, biting back a smile.

  Drucilla pinched her lips together, but refrained from insisting that Gyllford would make Eve a fine husband, as she would have in the past.

  “So what do you intend to do next?” Eve asked Ryder.

  “I’ll focus my efforts on discovering where Meade has gone so I can interrogate him. Simply letting him know we consider him a suspect might be enough to warn him off. But to be truthful, I’m beginning to think that none of our initial suspects fits my notion of your assailant.”

  “What if we never find him?”

  The hard smile that touched Ryder’s lips held grim anticipation. “We’ll find him, I promise you. I’m not about to stop searching until we have our culprit behind bars.”

  “You enjoy the challenge, don’t you?” Eve asked, struck by the sudden insight. “You relish the danger.”

  Ryder’s smile abruptly faded. “The challenge, yes, but not the danger when it involves you. I would just as soon have this over with.”

  With effort, Eve quelled a shiver. She would very much like this to be over with as well.

  And she found herself in agreement with Beatrice when the elderly dame spoke up to say quietly, “Perhaps we can discuss a more agreeable topic, Sir Alex. It terrifies me to think that this madman could strike again at any moment.”

  Since that was the consensus among the ladies, the conversation turned to the success of the house party, and the aunts discussed the various guests until they finally arrived at their destination.

  Emerging from a narrow lane among the beech-woods, the line of carriages swept onto an emerald green meadow and came to a halt. The massive monastic ruins stood in a picturesque setting on the banks of the River Quinn, surrounded by verdant wooded hills. Eve had always been enchanted by the timeless charm of the place.

  “Oh, how lovely,” Eve heard her friend Lydia remark in the carriage behind her.

  “Indeed, it is,” Claire agreed.

  Cecil gave a derisive snort. “It’s the history that’s fascinating. Cistercian monks built this abbey in the twelfth century during Henry II’s reign. The timber roofs have all disintegrated and some of the walls are falling in, but the church tower is mainly intact. A pity the crumbling steps are too dangerous for ladies to climb, since the view from the top is spectacular.”

  “That is regrettable,” her grace the Duchess of Gower proclaimed, “since I have a fondness for splendid views.”

  When Ryder had assisted Eve down from the carriage, she scanned the impressive buildings. The roofless walls stood three stories tall, with an even taller tower for the church.

  “There are some fine stone carvings in the church nave,” Eve said to Lydia, who was being assisted down by Macky, “and in the refectory where the monks took their meals.”

  As proper for his role as footman, Macky had perched at the rear of the carriage carrying the twins, with the responsibility for looking after them. A dozen other servants had been sent on ahead, charged with setting up a picnic luncheon under the shade trees by the river for the guests after they explored the abbey ruins.

  The chestnut-haired actor helped Claire down next. Eve’s attention was caught when Macky bent and whispered something in her sister’s ear that made her laugh.

  Eve exhaled a soft sigh of exasperation. Not surprisingly, Claire seemed more at ease with her hired protector than with her real suitors, but she was pointedly ignoring the very gentlemen who were the reason for the house party.

  But then Eve was forced to forget her sister in favor of seeing to her obligations to her numerous guests. Due to the large number, the company was divided into three smaller groups, with Hayden employees acting as guides, including Eve’s steward, John Baggot, her gamekeeper, and her chief gardener.

  There was much congenial laughter and conversation as the guests set off across the beautiful grounds to explore the ruins. The monastery was made up of a church, the monks’ living quarters, and a cloister. To the sides and rear of the abbey proper were various medieval farm buildings—what once had been stables and storage barns and cottages.

  Without being conspicuous about it, Ryder shepherded Eve and her family into Baggot’s group. Eve kept Lydia beside her so that she could add to the steward’s detail of the abbey’s history.

  They first visited the cloister, where the monks had prayed in solitude, entering through a doorless arch, since the timber doors had long since rotted away. As they left the cloister, Eve glanced through one of the narrow lancet windows. Beyond the remains of the stable she could see the riverbank where her servants were setting up the alfresco picnic.

  Next they explored the living quarters—the small, barren cells where the monks had slept, the larger refectory, and the kitchens. The storage rooms, Baggot informed them, led to the cellars below, which were linked to the rest of the abbey by a labyrinth of underground passages.

  Finally they moved on to the church, where Eve pointed out the stone carvings in the long nave—the narrow central hall that was the main part of the church.

  When Lydia wished to view the entire tower, Eve accompanied her outside, with Ryder close behind.

  “It is a wonder the walls have stood all these centuries,” Lydia said admiringly, looking up at the layers of masonry above her head.

  “I know,” Eve agreed.

  Lydia turned to examine the tall rock monument at the foot of a distant hill. “What are those ruins, do you know?”

  Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, Eve followed her friend’s gaze. “That is a pagan marker commemorating a Saxon victory in battle,” she answered. “Apparently the slabs were too massive for the monks to move, so they were forced to tolerate them.”

  Smiling, Lydia brought a hand to her throat. “This has truly been fascinating, Eve, but I’m afraid all this sun and fresh air has made me thirsty. Do you suppose your servants have finished settin
g up the picnic yet?”

  “I expect so. Shall we see what they have brought us to drink?”

  They were on the opposite side of the abbey from the river. Intending to cross through the church, Eve turned with Lydia to retrace their steps along the wall, heading toward the arched doorway where Ryder awaited them.

  Just then she heard an odd sound above her head, followed by Ryder’s sudden shout as he raced toward her. “Eve, move!”

  Startled, she glanced up, only to realize that a shower of stone rubble was hurtling down on them.

  “Eve!”

  She heard the raw fear in Ryder’s voice as with sheer desperation he lunged and shoved her and Lydia out of the path of the rubble an instant before it crashed down in a foot-high heap of swirling dust and rock.

  Both women struck the ground hard. Beneath her, Lydia gave a scream while Eve cried out at the sudden pain in her right ankle.

  “God in heaven, Eve, are you all right?” she heard Ryder demanding. He was kneeling over her as she lay there in stunned silence.

  “I think so….” A heavy stone had caught her leg, Eve realized, but the damage could have been much worse. “Lydia?” she asked, easing her weight off her poor friend.

  Lydia was trembling, and her chin was bleeding profusely, but she gave a shaken nod.

  “I need to go after him,” Ryder said urgently, pointing upward.

  Him? Dazed, Eve looked up to see that part of the crumbled wall around a lancet window was missing. The wall had suddenly fallen. Or been pushed. “Someone tried to kill me again,” she rasped.

  “Yes.” His grim tone was practically a snarl.

  Eve shook herself, finally understanding that Ryder wanted to pursue the perpetrator but wouldn’t leave her side until she reassured him. “We’ll be fine…go!”

  “Stay here!” he ordered before lurching to his feet and sprinting for the doorway.

  After helping Lydia to sit up, Eve fished in the reticule looped around her wrist. Drawing out a handkerchief, she held it to Lydia’s chin to stem the bleeding.