The Devil's Gift

by Laura Landon

“My aunts will insist on hosting a ball to present us to the ton when we arrive in London. We’ll invite everyone then.”

  Jenna couldn’t breathe. Maggie had been right. He actually intended to go through with the wedding. It would be her fondest wish, had it not been for the danger in which it placed Jack.

  “How many guests are you planning to invite?” he asked, pulling her thoughts away from the panic running rampant in her veins.

  “We’ll have to invite the neighbors, as well as several of the local families Father has been friends with for years. Those, along with the names on Eleanor’s list and your list will come to—”

  Jenna stopped to quickly add the growing number.

  “There will be nearly one hundred people,” she said, releasing a shuddering sigh.

  “Perfect.”

  “Perfect?” she asked, realizing what a huge crush that would be. Didn’t Jack realize how difficult it would be to protect him if Eleanor was intent on stopping the announcement of their betrothal?

  “Yes. Now don’t worry about the invitations any more tonight. You need your sleep. Tomorrow is guaranteed to be another eventful day with your stepmother.”

  Jenna closed her eyes and issued a groan of despair. Tonight had been horrible. “You certainly know how to fuel her temper,” she said, thinking of several of the retorts Jack had thrown out to counter Eleanor’s barbed comments.

  “Your stepmother has overstepped her bounds so often she doesn’t realize how unacceptable her behavior is.”

  Jenna couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to get the best of her.”

  “I think she didn’t anticipate that anyone would attempt it.”

  “Did she say anything that gave you any clues as to what she’s involved in and with whom?”

  There was a slight pause before he answered. “I’m not sure.”

  But Jenna knew differently. She could hear the contemplation in his voice. But as in all things between them there was the issue of trust.

  Jenna left her mother’s study first, leaving Jack to wait until he was sure no one was there to follow him.

  It promised to be a long night. She wanted to consider the developments she’d discovered tonight. Instead, she knew all she would be able to concentrate on was the feel of Jack’s lips on hers and his hands drawing her close.

  And how much she wanted to experience that again.

  And more.

  THE DEVIL’S GIFT by Laura Landon

  Chapter 18

  Jenna tried to sleep but couldn’t. For hours after she’d returned to her room she’d tossed and turned in her bed.

  First she’d relived the events of the evening, the bitter words Eleanor had used when talking to Jack, the veiled threats that were plain to anyone who listened.

  Then she relived the kiss they’d shared afterward.

  She touched her fingertips to her mouth. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. Her cheeks still warmed from the feel of his arms around her. Her breathing came faster when she relived the pressure of his hands as they roamed over her body.

  Heaven help her. She didn’t want to be separated from him for even a minute. Even now she wondered what it would be like to have him with her, to feel his strong, hard body lying next to her, holding her.

  Jenna tossed back the covers and rose to her feet.

  She was falling in love with him.

  She paced back and forth, from one side of her bedroom to the other.

  Even though she’d never been in love before, and she’d always thought she’d never find someone she could love as deeply as her mother had loved her father, she knew she had. Except Jack Hawkins—or rather Jack Rafferty…no, not Rafferty…he was Jack Devlin now that he was the earl…was the last man on earth she could trust with her heart. Yes, he had romantic feelings for her, but his ultimate desire was to discover his brother’s killer. So did marriage bring him the answer he sought? Or did the answer he sought force him to marry?

  Jenna reached for her robe and threw it around her shoulders as she moved to the door.

  The events of the past weeks were falling into place like fresh logs in a spent grate. Her mind churned with the finality of the picture it presented. She couldn’t afford to fall in love. Not under these circumstances. Not with a man who’d come to Kingston Manor for the purpose of proving her father had murdered his brother.

  How could she love a man who had held her and kissed her as a means of tricking her into telling him where her father was hidden? How could she fall in love with a man who used emotions as easily as a liar used words?

  Jenna raced down the long hallway, slowing only when she reached her mother’s study. This was the only place she could come when she needed to see things clearly. It was her sanctuary. The place she could think.

  Except tonight she doubted she’d be able to think even in this room. This was where Jack had kissed her, and touched her, and held her. This was where Jack had stirred her to a point she was no longer in control of her emotions. This was where she’d realized how vulnerable she was to his charms.

  Jenna walked to the window and lifted the drapery. The light still shown in the cottage window. All was well. Her father was still safe.

  Jenna stared out into the moon-drenched darkness as her eyes adjusted to the shadows, then walked to her desk and looked down on the stack of invitations yet to be addressed. She’d brought them here earlier after she’d finished most of the list. But there were still the ones on her stepmother’s list, and the ones Jack had given her.

  Jenna lit the two lamps on the writing desk and sat down to finish. Sleep was not possible any more tonight so she might as well put her sleepless hours to good use.

  She picked up a pen and dipped it in the crystal ink well, then addressed an invitation to the first person on the list. She’d only worked a few minutes before she heard a noise behind her.

  The sound didn’t startle her. In fact, she almost felt a sense of relief knowing he’d come in search of her. But she couldn’t allow him to stay. Not tonight. Not after what had happened earlier.

  “Please leave,” she said, continuing to write as if his presence was no more intrusive than a servant entering with a tea tray.

  “Are you all right?”

  He spoke softly, the rich timbre of his voice washing over her like a warm cover on a cold night.

  “I’m fine. Now, please leave.”

  He didn’t. Instead, she heard him close the door and walk across the room. When he reached the desk, he pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her.

  “Who’s next on your list?” he said, placing a clean ivory paper in front of him.

  Jenna pulled the edges of her robe together tighter, even though she was clearly covered and he hadn’t looked at her as if he noticed her lack of dress. “I’m perfectly capable of addressing the invitations myself.”

  “I don’t doubt you are. You shouldn’t have to, though. Under ordinary circumstances you would have several months to complete the task instead of one day, and an army of secretaries at your disposal. Since you have neither, you’ll have to make do with my assistance.” He sat forward in his chair. “Now, who’s next?”

  Jenna gave up. He obviously wasn’t going to leave and she didn’t feel like arguing. She looked down at her list. “The Duke of Fullmont.”

  “Ah, how appropriate that I have the pleasure of addressing his invitation.”

  Without elaborating further, Jack addressed the Duke of Fullmont’s invitation. When he was finished, he reached for the list that had the names he’d given her earlier. One by one he checked them off as he worked his way down the names.

  Once or twice Jenna lifted her gaze to watch Jack work. His handwriting was striking, each letter a bold script, not as delicate as hers, just beautifully masculine. She’d never seen his writing, but knew it would be this way. She couldn’t imagine anything he did that hinted at weakness.

  They worked in silence for nearly an ho
ur before Jenna wrote out the last name on her list and Jack wrote out the last on his. When they were done, Jenna sat back in her chair and rolled her shoulders.

  She was tired. Her hand ached from writing so long and her shoulders burned from not moving.

  She reached up to rub the ache between her shoulder blades, but stopped when he rose from his chair and stood behind her.

  “Don’t,” she whispered when he touched her shoulder and rubbed the spot where her hand had been.

  “Relax.”

  “I can hardly relax when you’re touching me like that.”

  He didn’t say anything but Jenna could sense his smile.

  His hands knew the exact places to rub. His fingers knew the exact pressure to apply as he gently massaged the knotted muscles of her shoulders, then moved to the muscles at the base of her neck. Each firm circle he made relaxed her more, until she felt as limp as a rag doll.

  “Do you ever sleep?” she asked, unable to speak in any tone of voice other than a lazy drawl.

  “I don’t require a great deal of rest,” he answered, massaging her scalp as he moved his fingers through her hair.

  She didn’t know how he’d managed without her noticing, but somehow he’d undone the loose plait in which she’d tied her hair before going to bed. Her hair hung down her back and he threaded his fingers through the waves in long, gentle motions.

  “You have beautiful hair,” he said lifting it away from her neck. “It feels like spun silk, and in the lamplight it has the color of filigreed gold.”

  His lips touched her neck, his soft breath little more than a whisper.

  It was as if she were reliving the perfect dream, a dream closely resembling what they’d shared in this room just a few hours ago. She tilted her head to the side and he took advantage of her invitation.

  Jack kissed the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck, then stepped around to the side of her chair and kissed her gently on the lips. With his hands on each arm, he lifted her to her feet and turned her into him.

  “You’re very beautiful,” he said in a whisper as his lips met hers.

  Jenna knew she only had a few seconds before rational thought left her. Once she allowed him to kiss her, every ounce of self-discipline she possessed would abandon her. The moment he kissed her every part of her would relinquish control over the desire that already raged through her.

  Jack deepened his kisses and Jenna moaned a low sound when his hand slid one edge of her robe over her shoulder and he touched her. His fingers skimmed over her body, igniting her flesh with an impossible heat.

  Wherever her wantonness came from, she welcomed it, and without the slightest hesitation she met his demands and issued some of her own.

  She found herself impatient to be merely the recipient of his kisses, of his touch. She wanted to touch him as he was touching her.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and it gave her the freedom to place her trembling fingers against the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.

  “I want to touch you,” she said, struggling to unfasten the buttons.

  He wrapped both of his hands around hers and stopped her from moving. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “Nothing about what we’re doing here is wise.”

  “Then why are you allowing it?”

  “Because I can’t stop myself. Because I don’t want to stop myself.”

  “Are you sure, Jenna? Because I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough to stop us if we go much further.”

  There was a look of passion in his eyes and his words came out in uneven gasps. His breaths were as labored as her own.

  Jenna pulled one hand free from his grasp and placed it on his chest. His heart thundered beneath her trembling fingers, pounding so fast and hard she could feel it through the white linen of his shirt.

  “I don’t want you to stop us,” she answered, knowing that she was giving him permission to do much more than kiss her. Knowing that the consent she gave him would forever change her.

  For one second, time seemed to stand still. For one second, her mind seemed clearer than it had ever been. What happened from this moment on was something of her choosing. What happened from this moment on was something she’d realized was inevitable from the first time Jack had kissed her.

  Jenna looked into his eyes, dark and glazed with passion, and reached up her hand and cupped it around his stubbled cheek and jaw.

  Their gazes held and locked. Then, as if understanding the decision she’d firmly made, he turned his head and kissed the sensitive flesh of the palm of her hand.

  “Come with me,” she said, leading him to the bedroom that had been her mother’s.

  The calm that descended upon Jenna surprised her more than she dared admit. Even though she was an innocent in the physical sense of the word, she was hardly innocent of what happened between a man and woman in the bedroom. She was four and twenty, after all, and had lived her whole life in the country. And country servants had most liberated tongues. Especially the girls who had come from London.

  Yet, Jenna wasn’t frightened.

  She walked with Jack into the darkened bedroom and when they reached the bed, he took her in his arms and kissed her. In that moment, passion as she had come to know it changed into something greater, something more sensual.

  “I’ll never hurt you,” he promised when he lifted his mouth from hers.

  “I know,” she answered him and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

  In this she trusted him, and he answered her declaration of faith with a searing kiss that left her breathless.

  He kissed her deep and long, as if he needed to show her that he would do everything in his power to be worthy of the gift she gave him. In a wicked frenzy their tongues met, and battled, and yielded to each other in an admission of defeat that didn’t hint at surrender.

  Jenna had no recollection of undressing, of lying on the bed, because all she could think about was Jack’s hands and mouth on her body. All she was aware of was the building of her emotions as he drove her to a point of madness with his lovemaking.

  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was the man to whom she wanted to give herself.

  Just as there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was the only man she would ever love.

  Jack touched her with mounting urgency, his body and his kisses taking turns pushing her closer to the edge of sanity. When she thought she could take no more he lifted his head and looked down on her.

  He was lying over her, his body melding with hers in a perfect fit. Jenna reveled in the heavy feel of him atop her as she anticipated his next move and encouraged him to make it. She clung to Jack as they skated blindly across a night that was lit with cries of joy. Every doubt was now little more than a fading regret. Tonight erased every disappointment she’d ever experienced.

  Jenna wrapped her arms around Jack’s trembling body and held him tight. She would never love anyone like she loved him. Could never imagine giving herself to anyone but him. And her heart spoke the words she so desperately needed. If there was anyone she could trust, the man in her arms was that person.

  For a long while neither of them moved. His breathing was as labored as hers, and his chest heaved as he sought to quiet his lungs. Finally, he rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms.

  “Is it always like this?” Jenna asked, nestling against him.

  “No. This was singularly special.”

  “For you, too?”

  “For me, too.”

  “Jack, I—”

  “Shh.”

  He lifted his head and Jenna felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Don’t ask any questions,” he whispered, laying his head back on the pillow and gathering her closer.

  She did as he asked and didn’t speak for a long while but lay nestled in his arms and let a hundred questions sift through her mind. Finally, she couldn’t stay silent any l
onger.

  “Jack?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “With what?”

  “With us? With Eleanor and her brother? With...everything?”

  “Well,” he said, lifting himself up to look down on her. He propped his elbow on the pillow beside her and rested his head in the palm of his hand. He brushed several strands of her hair from her face with his other hand, then gently ran his fingers across her skin, touching her cheek and her forehead, then the exposed flesh of her shoulder and arm.

  “The ‘us’ part of your question is easy. We’re going to go through with everything we’ve planned. In precisely nine days we’ll be married. And don’t tell me again that it’s not necessary for us to go through with the wedding,” he rushed to say before she could do exactly that. “We’ll be married as planned. Because—”

  He seemed to think better of what he was about to say, and Jenna squelched the small wave of guilt that rushed through her. “Because of what we just did,” she whispered softly.

  “We’d marry regardless. What we did just eliminated any arguments you might think to have.”

  “What about Eleanor and her brother?”

  “What about them?”

  “They’re not going to let our betrothal be announced without trying to stop it.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Do you have any idea the danger you’re in?”

  “Stop worrying, Jenna.”

  “I can’t.”

  She reached out her hand and grasped him around the shoulder. “You may have survived the war without being killed, Jack, but you’re not invincible. Eleanor or her brother will probably try to kill you.”

  “The word is ‘try’, Jenna. They may try, but they won’t succeed.”

  “How do you know?”

  Fear was an emotion familiar to Jenna. She’d feared for her father since the day she suspected her stepmother of trying to poison him. She’d feared for him from the day Eleanor had issued the first threat to lock him away in an asylum. And she’d been afraid every time her stepmother had raised her hand against her. But never had she felt this kind of fear. Never had she been this afraid of losing someone.