Stolen Kisses

by Suzanne Enoch

  Lilith nodded. “I don’t want to marry him!” She sobbed harder. “But he’ll ruin me, and he’ll get you hanged. He said he would.”

  His expression changed for a fleeting moment, but he moved no closer. “Allow me to guess. I told you I killed Genevieve, and now you come to me expecting that I will do you the favor of dispatching dear Randolph.”

  She shook her head, horrified that for a moment the idea tempted her. “No! I came here to—”

  “Why not? Half the ton thinks I killed Old Hatchet Face, anyway. May as well dispose of the other Remdale while I’m at it.”

  “Oh, stop it,” she snapped. “Don’t you think I feel horrid enough that you’re being blamed for old Wenford? Don’t you think I wish I could tell everyone that you were only helping me?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “But I was not the one who suggested that you strip Wenford and make him look like a drunken fool before his fellows. It had to be either Wenford himself, or someone with no fear of anyone who did it—and since Dolph seems quite assured that his uncle didn’t render himself naked, who else would anyone suspect but you?” Her anger deflated. “And now me, because of that deuced earring. I’m beginning to think Dolph truly did have something to do with his uncle dying, Jack. That’s why I came here.”

  For a long moment he was silent. “To warn me?” the marquis finally asked in a quieter voice.

  She nodded. “And because I could think of no one else who could possibly help me.”

  “Help you?” he repeated. “Help you? Me?” Jack folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall, the image of cynical disdain, but she saw the hope in his eyes. “My dear, hasn’t anyone told you by now that I don’t help people? I play with them, I amuse myself with them, and if it suits me, I ruin them.”

  “Considering you might have ended the speculation over your involvement in Wenford’s death simply by telling everyone you found him dead on top of me in my morning room, I would have to say, Lord Dansbury, that you are somewhat in error about yourself.”

  “I told you, the incident amused me,” he retorted. He tilted his head again, and looked at her for a long time. “How about a bargain, Lilith?”

  “What sort of bargain?” she asked warily.

  “I’ll agree to help you be rid of Dolph Remdale, if you will agree to share my bed for one night.”

  Her breath caught. Dolph had threatened the same with her, and she had been revolted and nauseated. If anyone had even seen her at Jack’s front gate tonight, she would be ruined beyond redemption. But the duke had already voiced the opinion that she and Jack were lovers. Lilith looked at him, exhilaration and anticipation running along every nerve. That had been the problem with Jack Faraday all along. She had craved the sound of his voice, his touch, his attention, from the moment she’d set eyes on him. He was everything she could never be—free, and unafraid of what anyone else might think or say about his actions and his opinions.

  “No answer for me, Lil?” he pursued, the cynical tone coming into his voice again. “Then you should likely return home before—”

  “I agree,” she said, her voice trembling.

  He shut his mouth. “Beg pardon?”

  “I agree to your bargain,” she clarified in a stronger voice.

  Something vulnerable and elated crossed his features, then he turned back to the window and slowly shook his head. “Poor girl,” he muttered, “you must be desperate. Go home. I’ll find William tomorrow, and we’ll see what can be done.”

  “But I agreed.”

  “I just wanted to see how you would answer, Miss Benton,” he said, too quickly. “I’m not that much a monster.” Slowly he turned to look at her again. “In fact, I find I am beginning to envy those men the world calls respectable. At least they may dance with you.”

  “My father became angry at me this evening, and he accidently mentioned that he knew Wenford was going to call on me that morning. He knew that the duke was going to…persuade me to accept his suit in a manner I would not be able to refuse.”

  Even Jack looked shocked. “He knew he would be leaving you alone with that perverted rattle-brain?”

  Lilith desperately hoped it was anger and jealousy she heard in his voice. Coming to find him in the middle of the night had taken every ounce of courage she possessed. If he turned her away, she had no idea what to do next. “He wanted a respectable match for the family, even if I had to be raped for him to receive it. So you see, Jack, I’ve had my fill of respectable men. From my experience, they are the monsters. Not you.”

  “Lilith…”

  Again tears gathered in her eyes, but this time Jack stepped forward to brush them from her cheeks with his thumbs. She shut her eyes at the gentle touch, and he kissed her eyelids. Lilith tilted her head up, and his mouth touched her lips—first gently, then, as she responded, more roughly.

  He teased her mouth open, and she gasped at the raw sensuality as he slowly ran his tongue along her teeth. At her reaction he immediately pulled back, until the grip of her hands around his arms stopped him.

  “For God’s sake, run away, Lilith,” he whispered. “Go home, where it’s safe.”

  “I feel safer here,” she returned, lifting one hand to touch his lips. “Kiss me again.”

  “I want to do far more than kiss you, Lil,” he murmured, pulling her against him. “Unless you tell me no.”

  Whatever else happened, she wanted Jack to be the first one to touch her, to hold her—whether his motivation was simple lust, or something closer to what she had begun to feel for him. “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath. “Far be it from me to warn you that you’re being foolish,” he whispered, then bent to sweep her up effortlessly in his arms. “I think we’ll avoid the couch,” he said, and headed for the door.

  She turned the handle, and pulled it open. And gasped.

  Jack’s butler stood in the hallway, a pair of candelabras in his hands. He lifted an eyebrow as Jack stepped out into the hallway.

  “These, my lord?” he said in his rough voice, hefting the brass candle holders.

  “Put them out with the others,” the marquis said nonchalantly.

  “Jack,” Lilith whispered, hiding her face against his shoulder, deeply embarrassed.

  “And Peese,” Jack added, “send everyone off to bed, will you?”

  “With pleasure, my lord.” With another bold, speculative glance at her, the butler nodded and disappeared into the depths of the house.

  “Jack, won’t he—”

  “He’s trustworthy,” Jack returned, lowering his head to kiss her deeply as he started up the stairs with her.

  They entered his bed chamber, where the covers of the huge bed had been turned down, and a fire burned brightly in the fireplace. It hardly appeared to be the den of iniquity she had once imagined, but little of Jack had been what she’d expected.

  He set her on her feet before the fireplace, and kissed her again. Slowly his mouth trailed down the line of her jaw to her ear, and Lilith half-closed her eyes, swaying a little toward him at the sensation. When he took the lobe of her ear between his teeth and gently bit down, she gasped again. He moved behind her, running his fingers lightly along the nape of her neck, his lips following. He loosened the clips in her hair, letting it tumble in a black wave down her back. His long fingers toyed with the tresses, caressing and lightly tugging, while his mouth nibbled at her other ear. Lilith’s breasts tightened, and she felt a sudden, unexpected warmth between her legs. Unable to help herself, she moaned.

  “You are a sensuous creature,” his low voice murmured in her ear. “I knew you were, Lilith.”

  “Jack,” she whispered shakily. Her breath came very fast, almost as fast as her heart’s pounding.

  “Tonight you’re free to do whatever you choose, Lilith. Anything you choose.”

  His lips brushed the back of her neck, his breath warm in her hair, and his hands slowly captured her waist. Against the small of her back she co
uld feel him, could feel his desire for her, and another moan escaped her.

  His fingers shifted to the back of her gown, and the rhythmic sound of the dress fastenings coming undone was a further seduction. When he had finished, he moved in front of her. Slowly he slid the dress from her shoulders, his mouth caressing the bare skin he had exposed.

  Finally Lilith stood before the fire in nothing but her shift, her dress puddled on the floor at her feet. She looked up into his dark, smoky eyes. Despite the warmth of the flames and the fires burning through her body, she shivered. As his fingers slipped under the shoulders of her shift, she trembled again.

  “Are you cold?” he whispered.

  “No,” she said breathlessly. “Actually, I’m rather warm.”

  His chuckle sent another tingle down her spine. “So am I, truth be told.”

  Her shift slid silkily to the floor with her gown, and Lilith took a ragged breath. Only her maid had ever seen her naked. Self-conscious, she moved her arms to cover as much of herself as she could. His eyes took in every inch of her, from her toes to the top of her head, and the warm tingling down her spine settled between her legs.

  “Glorious,” he murmured, triumph and desire in his eyes. “You are glorious.”

  For the first time in her life, as Jack looked at her, Lilith felt glorious. Shaky, torn between desire and terror, but beautiful. His eyes holding hers, he touched her shoulders, then slid his hands slowly down so that his fingers just brushed the outside of her breasts. Lilith drew another ragged breath, wondering how much more of this she would be able to withstand before her knees buckled.

  Everywhere he touched seemed to come alive, so that she was aware of the slightest whisper of air in the room against her skin. His mouth followed his hands, and she moaned again.

  “Jack, please,” she murmured helplessly.

  “Please what?” he asked, reaching down to take her hands and pull them away from her body. He stepped into the circle he’d made and kissed her again, more roughly this time, and she realized that he wasn’t quite as calm about this as she had thought.

  “Please,” she repeated, not certain what she was asking for, or at the least, not certain how to ask for it. “I want to be with you.”

  “You are,” he said, “and you shall be.”

  He trailed his hands down to her breasts. Shivering, she watched his expression, fire burning through her at his expert touch. He ran his thumbs across her nipples, and they hardened in response. Breathing hard at the sensation, she arched her back toward him. He dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking lightly.

  “Oh,” she gasped, as sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt stormed through her.

  Jack’s lips trailed over to her other breast, and he ran the tip of his tongue around the aureole, then suckled her again. Lilith tangled her hands in his hair, holding him against her.

  He straightened and kissed her. “Now you undress me,” he suggested in a soft murmur.

  Lilith lifted her hands to cup the sides of his face and kiss him as he had kissed her. Her shaking, eager fingers fumbled over the buttons of his waistcoat. Jack didn’t make the task any easier, for he was caressing her breasts again with his long fingers and kissing the nape of her neck. “Jack, you must stop,” she ordered unsteadily, as she accidently pulled off one of his buttons. “I can’t think straight.”

  “You’re not supposed to be thinking,” he said huskily, his eyes on her hands as they ran over the front of his shirt. “You’re supposed to be feeling.”

  “I am.” She smiled breathlessly.

  Taking pity on her, he helped her with the waistcoat. She clumsily pulled his shirt free of his breeches, and he helpfully lifted his arms so she could pull it off over his head. Her fingers shaking, she reached out to run her hand along his hard, smooth chest. His skin jumped beneath her touch.

  “You’re not so poorly made, yourself,” she offered, hesitantly sliding her hand down his flat, well-muscled abdomen.

  “Perhaps I’d best see to the rest,” Jack muttered. He swiftly pulled off his Hessian boots, then disposed of his breeches.

  Lilith’s gaze wandered lingeringly down his lean, hard body. Finally she saw his aroused manhood. “Oh, my,” she said faintly, her heart skittering with desire and nervousness.

  “Is that good or bad?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

  Naive as she knew herself to be, Lilith also knew that he was magnificent. “You’re more beautiful than the statue of David,” she whispered.

  Jack closed the distance between them. This time, when he lifted her in his arms, she could feel the fast beating of his heart against her skin, and the slight tremor of his muscles as he laid her on the bed. He sank down beside her.

  Lilith felt as though she was humming with tension, that she needed something only Jack could give her. As his lips found hers again, she shifted restlessly closer to him. While he kissed her, his hand wandered languorously down to her breasts, along her stomach, and then lower. As he slowly slid his fingers between her legs, Lilith gasped and tensed.

  Jack smiled, though the motion of his hand against her never stopped. “‘If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.’”

  She tilted her head back and moaned, all sensation narrowing to where Jack’s hand caressed her most private place. “You’re a romantic,” she declared shakily, her hands tracing the hard muscles of his back as he leaned closer.

  He kissed her deeply again, and let his mouth once more travel down to her breasts. “You inspire me,” he murmured, shifting so that the length of his body covered hers.

  With his hand he coaxed her legs further apart, then settled his own between them. Lilith gazed into the dark eyes that seemed able to look deeper inside her than anyone she’d ever known.

  He kissed her again, and at the same time entered her slowly and carefully. She gasped in mingled pain and surprise and wonder. “Jack,” she whispered, digging her fingers into his back.

  “It’s the last time I will ever hurt you. I swear.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she protested shakily, gasping again as he moved. She watched his face, saw from his expression how careful he was being, and what a strain it was for him. “Really.”

  “How’s this?” he asked, shifting and slowly deepening the embrace of their bodies.

  He was right; the pain was nearly gone, replaced by a flooding, tightening sensation all through her that she’d never felt before. “Better,” Lilith groaned, arching her back.

  “I thought so.”

  Slowly and gently at first, then faster and harder, he entered her again and again. Lilith felt tension building inside her, and wanting him still closer, wrapped her legs about his thighs. She lifted her hips to meet each stroke, her fingers pressing into his back, and he groaned, half closing his eyes. He slowed his movement and deepened his strokes, watching her expression intensely, almost ferociously. Something more was happening inside her, and Lilith cried out his name and threw her head back as the tension exploded. Jack quickened his own movements in response, then shuddered, holding himself hard against her. After a moment he lowered his head against her shoulder, kissing her ear. Slowly and carefully, breathing as hard as she was, he settled himself down on top of her.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered unsteadily.

  Lilith didn’t want to say anything, just wanted him to hold her, wanted to feel the beat of his heart against hers. His weight on top of her felt so intimate and comforting, and she didn’t want him to move. Ever. He seemed to sense that, for he stayed where he was, gently toying with her hair, for a long time.

  Just as he was beginning to grow heavy, he shifted off her. He looked down at her, a slight smile on his handsome face, and his eyes dancing in the firelight. “Lil,” he whispered, and sinking down beside her, slid his arm about her waist and pulled her against him. “You ar
e definitely no Ice Queen.”

  Loath to separate herself from him, Lilith cuddled against him, twining her fingers with his while she curled her back against his chest. That way she could feel his slow, steady heartbeat. A clock out in the hallway somewhere chimed faintly half past three, and she knew she should gather her clothes, and her wits, and go home. There was still time, though, before she had to go back to the nightmare, back to tomorrow. I love you, Jack, she thought. Content in his embrace, Lilith sighed and closed her eyes.

  Something was extremely peculiar. Jack had been mulling it over since Lilith had fallen asleep in his arms. With elbow crooked and head propped up on his hand, he looked down at her. Long, black hair, still wavy from being held in its clips, spread out on the pillow around her head like a dark halo. Not wanting to wake her yet, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  There had been a time, a few years ago, when he had been even less disposed to care about the feelings of others. For a variety of reasons, including wagers and extreme intoxication, he had bedded a number of virgins. They had been awkward and nervous, hardly worth the tears and hysterics that generally followed, and what he had felt most was contempt at the silly things for giving in to a man they knew meant them no good.

  He sighed as she stirred and tightened her grip on his fingers. All Season, since he’d set eyes on her, he’d intended to bed Lilith Benton. He’d told himself it was because she had insulted him, and she needed to be taught a lesson. Well, he’d taught her, but her passionate reaction, and his own, had left him feeling like the student. She’d wanted him as badly as he’d wanted her. As he still wanted her. And it was even worse than that. He wanted to protect her, to make things right for her, to see her smile, and to hear her laugh.

  The hall clock chimed the quarter hour, and he scowled. Making things right for her would not include having London know she’d spent the night at Faraday House. “Lilith?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

  She sighed and smiled, pressing her back against his chest. Then, with a start and an exclamation, she sat bolt upright. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, staring at him.