Heart of the Diamond

by Carrie Brock

  Turning to him, she raised her luminous gaze to his face. A spasm wrenched through his gut. Those tears sparkling in her eyes reflected a myriad of despair and regret. He knew what they meant.

  He clenched his hands into fists, forced his breathing to remain even. Reaching deep into his soul, he grasped desperately for the protective facade that had stood him in good stead all his life. He found only a yawning stretch of emptiness.

  So she expected him to stand here and listen calmly while she explained all the reasons she would not marry him. Damn it all, he would not let her go.

  Nicole wiped at her cheeks, made a valiant attempt at a smile, and failed miserably. “You trusted me to believe in you. I let that belief slip for an instant. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Stunned, he could only stare. Forgive her?

  A hesitant step, she stopped. Her gaze evaded his once again. Her struggle to maintain control played across the expressiveness of her face. “I know . . . I know how badly I hurt you. There are things about me I have not told you, have never told anyone. Until tonight. These feelings inside me took control when Teddy told me about—everything.” She fastened her gaze on the dark green carpeting. “I reacted badly.”

  “Nicole, what are you saying?” His voice was tight, reflecting his fear—or his hope.

  “If you no longer want me, I will understand. I know I cause a great deal of trouble because I do not think about my actions. If you still want me—I promise to be the wife you deserve. I will learn about menus and house cleaning, and . . . well, whatever else a countess should know. Anything you want, Blake.” She raised her gaze to his, steady, and full of that courage he so adored. “And you do not have to love me.”

  Numb, Blake moved around the chair to drop into the seat. What had he done to her? That she should think he wanted her to be anyone but Nicole. How much he had to make up to her—so much it would take a lifetime. “You do not have to change for me, my sweet. I want you just as you are.”

  She rushed forward to sink to her knees at his feet, her cloak billowing out around her. Several loose strands of hair blew forward to brush her cheek as she stared up at him. With extreme care, Blake reached out to tuck them behind her ear. So beautiful, so precious. Like a dream he had thought forced from his heart long ago.

  Nicole pressed her cheek into his palm. “You forgive me, then?”

  “Sweet Nicole, there is nothing to forgive. It is I who should be on my knees to you.”

  Adamantly, she shook her head in denial. “When Teddy told me you had once loved Angelica, I thought only that I would be like my mother—always competing for the love of my husband. It was wrong of me and unfair to you. I have learned some things this night, but I will save the tale for another time.” Her hands grasped his knee tighter as she gazed up at him with adorable earnestness. “Oh, Blake, there is so much I want to say, so much inside me I want to share with you. Day after day I will regale you with stories of the past and my hopes for the future. And one morning you will awaken and say to yourself ‘Blast it all, my wife is an exciting woman. I fear I have fallen in love with her.’”

  Blake grinned at the skillful imitation of his own voice. At his amusement, Nicole attempted to drop her gaze, but Blake lifted her chin. “I will cherish every word that comes from your lips, my dear, but you are wrong when you say I will awaken one morning and see the light.”

  With disappointment sharpening her features, she tried to pull her face away, but Blake cupped her jaw more firmly. “I said you did not have to love me,” she murmured, a catch in her voice.

  “You mistake my meaning, my dear. Already I awaken in the morning and tell myself 'Blast it all, Nicole is an exciting creature.' And tonight, when I thought I had lost you forever . . . I wondered why I could not simply tell you that I . . . I love you.”

  Nicki held her breath and waited for him to take back the words, to clear his throat and tell her he had meant to say something entirely different. Somewhere in the room a chime tinkled daintily, announcing the half-hour. Dawn marched ever nearer with each sway of the pendulum. She searched his face, then found the answer she sought in his eyes. Flames flickered in the silver depths—too bright to be a reflection of the fire.

  “You mean you truly love me?” she whispered in awe.

  At his gentle chortle, years fled his features. “I swear it on my somewhat elusive honor.”

  Nicki pushed to her feet and climbed onto his lap. She wrapped her arms about his neck, kissed him soundly, and tasted the warm piquancy of claret. “I have always told you what an honorable man you are.”

  “It was you who reminded me.” As one hand grasped the back of her neck gently, Blake's other hand traced the line of her cheekbone.

  Tears brimmed over, spilled onto her cheeks. “I will make you so happy, my Lord Diamond. And I promise I will not be difficult and insist you visit with my family and—”

  “Stop." He touched a finger to her lips. "Do you think I would take away something so dear to you? Your father and I have made our peace. In fact, it seems we share a good many interests—the main one being your welfare. Now that Mina knows she will not have to marry me, we should get on nicely. Shelby and I are good friends. . . .”

  “And Angelica?”

  A sigh seemed to come from deep within him. “Teddy Bartholomew painted a picture that placed him in the best possible light. Angelica befriended both Teddy and myself. She seemed lonely and sad. As I got to know her, she confided that she loved her husband very much, but one of his daughters had taken a horrible dislike to her.”

  “Me.”

  He nodded. “The tension had started to wear on their marriage. One evening, in the gardens, Angelica came to me particularly upset. I held her and tried to comfort her. One thing led to another and we kissed. Immediately, we both knew it was not right for either of us. We were nothing more than friends. Angelica decided she would be stronger in holding her marriage together. We both agreed that our friendship should cease.

  “But I discovered later that Teddy had seen us and became furious. The following night he came to me and handed me a message from Angelica, or so I thought. It said that Jonathon had discovered us and she could not bear it and she intended to kill herself if I did not come to her bedchamber through the window. When I did so, there was a note already on her pillow. Your father assumed I had left it. Clever Teddy. It was all a grand farce. He meant for me to be caught all along.”

  “But why?”

  “Perhaps he was jealous of my friendship with Angelica and felt we had betrayed him. I would like to think he did not realize the extent of the trouble that would come of his actions.” Blake's jaw tightened. “But damn him, I waited for him to come forward and explain. He was my friend and I refused to implicate him. Even as the ship left the harbor that day, still I watched for him. I could not believe he would stand by and allow me to be banished from my home.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “Did he ever come forward?”

  Bitterly, Blake shook his head, a grimace of both agony and amusement shadowing his face. “He let me take the blame. I stared into the dark waters of the sea that day and swore all of them would pay.”

  Nicki thought back over the years of punishment she had endured for Teddy's sake. Apologizing to ladies with hangovers for sneaking vodka into their tea could not compare with all that Blake had suffered. “Making them pay . . . never took away the pain, did it?”

  “It took you to perform that particular miracle.”

  She worried her lower lip, debating her next words. “Did you ever love Angelica, Blake? I will understand if you did.”

  As his gaze delved deep into hers, Nicki shivered at the intensity of emotion more powerful than any she had ever experienced. “I have never been in love with anyone, Nicole—until you.”

  Her heart soared, but the tiniest insecurity remained. “Yet I recall your saying one heart was broken when you left England.”

  “I meant my own.”

 
; In that moment, all his suffering and pain became hers as well. She prayed that the burden would be lighter for him now. Not only had he been exiled from England, but war had broken out between the two countries. She imagined him alienated, living in one country, his home in another, belonging to neither—and the sorrow that overwhelmed her was almost more than she could bear.

  Tenderly, she reached out to push a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Tell me how Teddy lost Rosewood. I think it is time I learned the truth, not some fabricated tale.”

  Blake captured her hand. He studied it as though it would reveal the secrets of the universe. But Nicki understood him well enough now to know how skillfully he could hide his hurt. “I gave him a job at one of my saloons in Boston. I went away for a week to take care of the sale of some of my horses. While I was gone, the manager promoted Teddy to dealer. If I had been in town I could have prevented what followed, but by the time I returned the damage had been done.” He leaned his head back against the chair. “Teddy held a game after hours with several wealthy customers. He allowed the wagers to go well over the house limits, and he lost. He was an employee and I had to honor his losses. All he could offer in repayment was Rosewood. I am not certain he knew he had it to give. The place was overrun with debt. It has cost me a fortune to make good on the encumbrances.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks, and Nicki toyed with the collar of Blake's white shirt. “And Jonathon Langley's daughter talked you into turning over even more of your hard earned money. That must have pleased you to no end.”

  “From the moment I set eyes on you that first night—wearing those trousers—I knew I had entered uncharted territory. You have a very attractive shape, my dear.”

  She grinned, recalling her reaction to his trousers that night. “You fill out a pair of breeches nicely yourself, my lord.”

  “That is a great relief to me.” His smile slipped away as he touched Nicki's cheek with infinite tenderness. “You were silhouetted by the moonlight, and when you turned to fight with the curtains, I saw your face. An angel, I thought, too beautiful to be of this world. And then you spoke in the sweetest musical voice. You said ‘deuce take it,’ and I have been captivated since.”

  Nicki moved her hand down to fuss with the buttons on the front of his white shirt. “Papa said I was a hoyden and we were fortunate you were willing to marry me, despite all my shortcomings.”

  His hand at her neck pulled her closer to his mouth. “I find I am quite partial to this hoyden, shortcomings and all.”

  When their lips touched, Nicki knew she had been right to come here. Tenderly, she reached out to touch his face, surprised as his day's growth of whiskers rasped against her fingers. The muscles of his arm tensed at her back, and his shoulder felt solid as the strongest English oak beneath her arm. Power surged and pounded through every fiber of him, yet he held her with such tenderness.

  Nicki clung to him as her world spun out of control. At the center of the maelstrom only she and Blake existed. If she dared let go, she would be swept away into currents of thick, liquid blacks, grays, and blues. Light surrounded Blake, emanated from him. As long as he held her in his arms, she would be safe within that glow.

  Groaning against her mouth, Blake drew back. “Nicole. You must go home at once. I will not be responsible . . .”

  She scrutinized every feature, followed her gaze with the touch of her fingertips. His straight aristocratic nose, so perfect. There, on his left cheekbone, a tiny scar. Dark brows slashed over silver eyes. His wide mouth with the slightly fuller lower lip, so hesitant to smile. This man had become her life. With a look deep into his eyes, she wondered how she could ever find a way to tell him how important he was to her. Without a word, she slipped from his lap.

  Blake moved to rise, then froze as Nicki reached up to the ties of her cloak and tugged the cords. The garment pooled at her feet in a sigh of silk and velvet to reveal the dancing gown she had worn earlier in the evening. The one that turned her into an angel.

  “I am home. Home is wherever you might be,” she said, her voice husky with a mixture of love and uncertainty.

  He leaned forward, tense. “You do not know what you are saying.”

  She turned her back to him and lifted her hair. “I know exactly what I am saying—and I know what I want. I want you, my Lord Diamond. Every part of you.”

  It seemed an eternity that she waited. In the dark recesses of the room beyond the firelight, the clock continued to tick away the minutes. The house creaked and groaned softly, as though disturbed by these two humans who should have long since been abed. A night bird gave a long mournful cry. Nicki shivered at the sound.

  Then she felt his fingers at the buttons of her gown. She trembled again, this time from relief, excitement, and a little trepidation. Blake's lips brushed the skin just beneath her ear; his breath teased her tender flesh and sent delicious tremors over her entire body. A mystical heat emanated from his hands as they ran up her spine to rest lightly on her shoulders, then gradually eased outward away from her neck. She caught her breath as the gown slipped off her shoulders to follow the path of her cloak.

  “Good heavens, how did you manage that?”

  He chuckled, a rich, wonderful sound.

  Instinctively, she crossed her arms over the front of the lacy chemise. Blake cupped each elbow lightly, his hands slipping like thistledown along the skin of her forearms until he clasped her intertwined fingers. She leaned back against him, gave in to the magic that surrounded him. It encompassed her as well. She must trust him to take the lead in this timeless dance she had yet to learn.

  “This is madness, Nicole. Say the word and this will go no further.”

  Hearing the tightness in his voice, she turned within the hard circle of his arms. “I admire that honor of yours, but at this moment I believe you should ignore it and kiss me.”

  His gaze flickered, scorched Nicki clear to her soul. When she reached up to link her hands behind his neck, he shook his head in amazement. “You would drive a sane man to distraction, my dear. How can I withstand your charms?”

  Nicki pulled his head down to hers, though he gave the slightest resistance. “I fear you cannot, my lord. The battle is won. Let us celebrate our victory.”

  Chapter 23

  . . .

  The last of Blake's hesitation fled as he brought his lips down on Nicole's with all the hunger of a man who has allowed himself no gentleness—no tenderness—for much too long. She seemed to welcome his ferocity of emotion, to exalt in the sensations luring them ever downward into a shimmering vortex where only the two of them existed.

  He felt her fingers in his hair, then like the lightest brush of a sparrow's wing along his neck to the muscles of his shoulders. She pressed her body against his, as though yearning for closeness. The contact sent desire shooting white-hot through him.

  Did she too feel as though flames engulfed her, as though no external force would ever extinguish the blaze?

  She was so fragile, the base of her head fit within his hand. Taking advantage, he deepened the kiss, delving his tongue into the warm inner recesses of her mouth until he felt he would explode with the force of his desire for this woman. She clutched at him, gasping, dragging him with her into another plane of existence.

  And, more than willing, he followed.

  In her innocent passion, she arched against him. The silk of his shirt and her thin chemise did little to disguise the delectable treasures pressed against his chest. With one swift movement he slid the sleeve of the garment off her shoulder, slipping his free hand between their bodies to cover one perfect breast.

  “Oh!” Nicole gasped against his mouth.

  “You are more beautiful than any man deserves.” He continued his ministrations, tenderly teasing the bud to firmness until Nicole pressed against his palm. In another moment, the chemise was gone, baring her silken flesh to his touch.

  To his surprise, Nicole drew back. She looked at him with eyes as deep and green as
stormswept tropical seas, shining with passion. She reached out to undo the fastenings of his shirt. Her fingers grazed his skin like brands as she pushed the garment away from his chest. To the accompaniment of a rending tear, he jerked the shirt off his arms, then flung it away from him. His gaze locked on Nicole's, he reached down and pulled off his boots.

  With delicious slowness, she stepped out of her tiny slippers, then undid the string that held her fine lawn petticoat in place, allowing the garment to slide over her hips in a whisper that melded with his harshly indrawn breath.

  He could not fathom how he had come to win this exquisite creature's love. His Nicole. She swept a lock of hair from her face, and he sensed at once her rising anxiety.

  Though his manhood pressed insistently against the front of his breeches, the last thing he wanted was to rush this moment. It should be special. A night they both would never forget.

  Gently, he grabbed her neck and pulled her against him. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Blake touched his mouth to hers, then slowly traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. Salty sweet.

  When he felt Nicole's hands at his waist, fumbling with the buttons of his pants, he let out a gasp and quickly covered her fingers with his hands. “Nicole, my love, do you understand there will be no turning back? After loving you, I will not let you go.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “My sister once read me a poem about one soul in Heaven divided into two and each part is shot down to earth. Their lives are spent searching for the other half. They are drawn to one another across continents and oceans, and when they find the other . . . they know it. You are my missing half, Blake. Can you not feel it?”

  Moisture stung his eyes. This girl touched him as no other human could. “I feel it.”

  “Then I suggest you stop being coy. This is what we both want.”

  He quickly shed his pants and socks, then drew Nicole into his arms. Her body felt like the lightest silk against his skin—a sensation equal to none he had ever known. Never had a woman fit him as though she had been created for him alone. Two halves searching so they might become whole. But this union was not yet complete, and his body craved release.