by Marissa Day
Edward frowned. Far more serious was this matter of the memories he had glimpsed when he’d touched her mind—of the furious child, and this “White Knight” she had so desperately wanted to return to. That memory may not have resurfaced in the rush of her being freed of the enchantment, but it was still in the depths of her mind, and it would return, one way or another.
He touched her cheek lightly, and she turned her face toward his fingertips. He could not resist drawing them over to the corner of her smiling mouth. Her lush lips parted slightly, as if preparing for a new kiss. Carstairs’s cock stiffened. With a rueful smile, he lifted his hand away and folded his arms. Alicia’s mouth closed and she shifted again, turning toward him, seeking his warmth in the cool room. He tucked the blankets in a little more firmly around her and she stilled.
Who would Alicia prove to be when she woke once more? The passionate lover or the calculating and distant woman? Some combination of the two, most likely, but what combination?
That was what nagged at him now, even more than the restless swelling in his all-too-ready cock. Seeing Alicia curled up in his bed brought all Rathe’s warnings back to him. He didn’t really know how she came to be imprisoned by her enchantment. She might be more than an innocent victim in this unfolding mystery, but he found he already had trouble considering that possibility.
And this is exactly how our enemies work. They play on our loves and our vanities.
With a mild curse Carstairs climbed out of the bed and paced across the room. The air was cold against his bare skin, but he welcomed it, because it cleared his mind. It was nonsensical that he should be angry at Rathe for reminding him only of what he already knew. He had been raised in a family of Catalysts and Sorcerers. He had been barely thirteen when he’d called up the magic the first time. He’d been sixteen when he had helped ensnare his first Fae.
Sixteen when his weakness killed his brother.
He’d never forget the sight of the impossibly beautiful and delicate woman cowering on the ground before Nicholas. Nick was just nineteen, but he’d already proven himself to Captain Smith as a strong and competent agent. The whole family had been so proud of him, and of Edward when Nick had declared him to be ready to take on his first mission.
There’d been rumors of the Fae establishing themselves in a London gaming house, luring in wealthy and influential men with glamour and gold. Nick had asked that Edward be allowed to stand as Catalyst to him so they could try to gain membership in the house and discover if those rumors were true.
Nick had played the part of a young wastrel showing his little brother a rake’s ropes to perfection. They’d soon discovered the elegant hostess who promised them excellent and willing company for the evening was indeed a half-blood Fae in the service of the Seelie court. As soon as they’d gotten her alone, Edward had raised the magic, and Nick had worked the spell to confine her.
But she was so beautiful, so frail. She’d huddled on the carpet and begged for her life. Nick had suddenly seemed a foul ogre to be brutalizing such a delicate maiden, and Edward’s hold on the magic had faltered.
Edward’s fist curled as he fought to shut the memories away. Father had never blamed him for Nick’s death. Smith had sent him to sea to help with efforts on the Continent, and to get him away from the source of his overwhelming guilt.
The effort failed. The guilt and the responsibility were part of him, because the failure was his and his alone. He’d spent his every waking moment in a fight to restore his honor, and his family’s. He had to make Nick’s death mean something. But now here he was, within an inch of falling for yet another beautiful and apparently helpless girl. Not that there was any chance Alicia could be a Fae. No matter what their glamours, the Fae could not disguise their eyes, and Alicia’s rich, amber eyes were fully human. That did not erase the possibility that she was one of the Fae’s human allies.
Or that someone in her family is. This idea sat more comfortably in Carstairs’s guts. But if Alicia was the lure for a trap created by another Hartwell, then he was deep in it now. Was that really any better?
Carstairs looked back at Alicia. In her sleep, she’d stretched out one arm so that her hand lay on the pillow he had vacated. Yes, he told himself. It is better. Because it means she can still be saved. I can still…
He stopped himself. Still what? What did he mean to do with Alicia Hartwell once this was over? Marry her, of course. He really had no choice. He’d not only abducted her, but thoroughly and enjoyably ravished her. The fact that she was a Sorceress changed things only somewhat. She still had to live in the world, and in society. As it was, she would be the subject of a scandal. If he did not marry her, she would be ruined. It was his duty to marry her.
But what if duty required him to give Alicia Hartwell over to his superiors for judgment? Cold and premonition pricked across Carstairs’s naked shoulders. For the first time, it occurred to him that the necessity to follow duty’s dictates might harm far more than himself.
Eleven
Something clinked softly but persistently. Alicia rolled over and tried not to listen. She floated in a warm and delicious darkness and had no desire to leave it. But even as she curled more tightly in on herself, an appetizing scent brushed her. It held coffee, and something else, something homey and familiar.
Muffins. Alicia’s eyelids fluttered open and she shoved the thick blankets back from her face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s all right.” She pushed herself up on the pillows. Edward sat in a chair drawn close to the hearth. He had speared half a muffin on a long toasting fork and held it over the fire. A pot of coffee and several fat crocks sat on a tray on a nearby table, along with plates, knives, cups, a whole roasted chicken and a wheel of yellow cheese.
“Butter or jam?” he asked, holding the muffin up.
“Jam, please.”
“And coffee? It should be chocolate, I know, but I’m afraid that’s a bit beyond my poor skills. Most of the cooking I’ve done has involved bad tinned beef and a campfire, in the rain as likely as not.” He slipped the hot muffin onto the plate and smeared it with a healthy spoonful of shining red jam from one of the crocks.
“You made this?” Alicia blinked at the tidy breakfast. Her stomach turned over grumpily inside her. She was, she realized, next to starving.
“Well, I assembled it. Cook left us a well-stocked pantry.” He added some thick slices of chicken and cheese to the plate. “How do you take your coffee?”
“A little cream, please.”
“As my lady desires.” Edward carried the plate and a cup of coffee over. He sat on the edge of the bed and put the plate on her lap and the cup on the nightstand.
“Thank you.”
He cupped her cheek and smiled into her eyes. “Gladly.”
Warmth rushed through Alicia, flushing her face. Just looking up at him, her skin seemed to feel the touch of his hands and hard body all over again. Her pussy remembered how good it had felt to have his cock filling her. What was more, Edward seemed to see all that was passing through her mind, and he grinned at her. In a minute, he was going to chuckle at her. This realization did nothing to cool the heat from those memories.
“I’m not going to be able to eat with you this close,” she told Edward. “You’re too distracting.”
“Are you saying you prize me above muffins? I don’t think I’ve ever been so highly valued before.” He did chuckle. “However, you need to eat, so I will take the martyr’s part.” He walked back over to the tray by the fire, and slathered butter on another toasted muffin. Alicia took a bite of the muffin in front of her. It was hot and toasty and tender. The raspberry jam was sweet and tart. It went beautifully with the strong, bitter coffee, and somehow only whetted her appetite for both the perfectly roasted chicken and the salty, crumbly cheese that completed her eclectic breakfast. Before she knew it, Alicia was picking at crumbs and draining the dregs of her cup. She looked up to see Edward
watching her. He wasn’t laughing anymore. There was an intensity in his gaze that prickled across her skin. It was almost as if he were searching for something he was afraid to find.
“What is it?” Alicia asked.
Just like that, the intensity was gone. Pushed aside. Hidden. “I like watching you eat. You enjoy it so much.”
She glanced down at her empty plate, and tried to set aside her discomfort. She should not attach too much importance to one look. After all, it wasn’t as if she was an expert in understanding such things. “I…Everything just tasted so good.”
“I’m glad.” Edward brought over another jam-covered muffin. She should refuse. Aunt Eugenia said a lady should eat only in a restrained fashion. But then, Aunt Eugenia had said a number of things which turned out not to be true. Alicia bit down on the toasted muffin.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Edward, coffee cup in hand, wandered over to the window and peered around the curtain. “Still early. The sun’s only just up.”
“You said the cook was gone? She doesn’t live in?”
“She does, but I wasn’t certain what would happen last night. It could have gone badly.” He murmured these last words to his coffee cup. “So I sent the servants away.”
Alicia’s throat tightened around her bite of muffin. Last night. She would have to come to grips with all that had happened, and where she was. It was morning now, and she was naked in a man’s bed. Even though that man was her betrothed, they were not actually married. No amount of enchantment could get around this single, salient point. She was ruined. And she had enjoyed it—enjoyed Edward and all the wicked things they had done—far more than any decent woman possibly could.
“But it didn’t go badly.” She tried to make herself mean those words. It was done. Regret now would accomplish nothing. She was not just ruined; she was free. She had herself and she could not let the rules of society override that most important point, either.
“No, it did not go badly. In fact, it went very well.” There was an attempt at reassurance in Edward’s smile, but Alicia thought she saw worry as well, and something else. Something, for all her newfound understanding, she couldn’t quite grasp. “I hope you agree?” he added softly.
“I hardly know.” Alicia set the muffin down. Her appetite seemed to have ebbed. “I think it depends on what happens next.”
“Well, first, as I told you, you will be meeting some friends of mine, and learning more about your powers as a Sorceress.” Edward drained the coffee he had been drinking and set the cup next to him.
“How can I meet anyone? I’ve no clothes.” In fact, her walking dress was a crumpled ruin on the floor.
But Edward only smiled at her distress. “While I think I prefer you naked, my dear, I am not such a careless abductor as you think.” He moved over to the wardrobe and opened it with a flourish. Inside hung a variety of neat frocks. “They are not to your measure, of course, but they should serve well enough for the moment.”
“Where did they come from?”
“A lady named Miranda Rathe, who is currently helping lead your family as far astray as possible. She sent them over when she learned of our plans. Like you, she did not trust a man to remember a woman needs more than one dress when being kidnapped.”
“You enjoy making light of this situation.”
“Only because I’d rather see you smile than looking distressed.”
She had no answer. The memory of passion and desire was fading to the background, and the cold reality of where she was settled once more around Alicia. She was not a maiden any longer. She had, willingly, eagerly, given herself to this man. She had to marry him. There was no choice. Of course, she had planned to marry him. All the papers had been drawn up, all the settlements made, and she had agreed. But this was different. This wasn’t a case of agreeing. This was a case of unyielding necessity. She looked at him. Did Edward see it that way? Was he uncomfortable with realizing they now had no choice but to go through with their marriage? Was that what was behind the intense gaze she’d glimpsed?
“What’s wrong, Alicia?” Edward asked softly.
“I’m not sure. Everything has happened so fast.”
“I know. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but I could not leave you under that enchantment any longer. We’ll be talking more about that as well when my friends arrive, rest assured.” He paused, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. “You will not be abandoned.”
“I know.” She believed he would honor his promise to her. But there was something he wasn’t saying, and she could not find the words to ask him about it. So many feelings flowed through her, and they were so strong, she could barely begin to sort any of them out, let alone ask about them. She had no experience with this kind of unrest. Every small sensation—the scent of the muffins, the crisp fold of the starched sheets against her feet, the way the sunlight slipped around the closed draperies to lay bright streaks across the Turkey carpet—was powerful and new. She wanted nothing more than to revel in them all, if only for this single moment. All these things had been taken from her once. They could be taken again, and she would be lost.
At this thought, a river of sorrow poured into her mind, and tears pricked her eyes.
“Alicia?” Edward sat on the edge of the bed and took both her hands. “Alicia, what is it?”
“I don’t know…I…” But the thoughts behind her sudden sorrow skipped away from the warmth of Edward’s touch, and Alicia shook her head. “You must think me very foolish.”
Edward crooked his finger under her chin and tipped her face up toward him. “I think you are very brave, and very beautiful.” His gray eyes sparkled. He was remembering their lovemaking; she was sure of it. But before her blush had time to do more than warm her cheeks, Edward stood and walked away. Alicia watched, mystified. Had she done something wrong? But then, just as abruptly, Edward turned and faced her. With deliberate motions, he pulled the sash of his robe and dropped into the armchair in front of the window. Alicia stared. His robe fell open, and Edward let his legs relax. He was naked in front of her, and his cock stood up straight and hard against the flat plane of his belly.
Slowly, Edward ran his fingertips down the dark, swollen shaft.
“What—what—” she stammered. “What are you doing?”
“Touching myself.” His lids drooped over his gray eyes, but she still felt his knowing gaze brush her sensitive skin. “And watching you while I do it. Do you like what you see?”
How could she possibly answer such a question! And yet, she was watching his hand move, deliberately, almost thoughtfully, up and down his hardened cock, and as she watched, her nipples tightened and rubbed painfully against the linen sheets she had wrapped around herself.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I do like it.”
“Good.” He cupped his balls, fondling them for a moment before he stroked his way up the shaft again. “I like you watching me.”
Which is as well, thought Alicia a little desperately, because she couldn’t take her eyes from him. “You…you do?” she stammered.
“I like it very much. Oh, my hand makes me hard, but seeing your excitement makes it so much better.”
She was blushing in earnest now. The heat traveled down from her cheeks to her breasts and her center. Her pussy began to soften, just from watching, just from seeing how his cock swelled and stiffened under his fingers.
Edward’s eyes glittered beneath his heavy lids. “I’d like to see you do this.”
“See me…touch myself?”
“Yes.”
“I…” She’d heard that women did touch themselves. Verity had told her in a whisper once. It was dreadfully wicked, of course, but so was watching Edward fondling his cock. Even more wicked was the way she wanted to be there with him, touching him too, urging him on.
She wanted to touch herself and feel his excitement build.
“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice sounded terribly harsh in her
own ears.
He smiled languidly. “Come here, Alicia. Let me show you.”
Her mouth was dry. Her heart pounded against her ribs. A cold shiver of pure nervousness cut the heat rising in her body. But he was so magnificent, lounging there, utterly unabashed in his nakedness, stroking his magnificent cock to fullness as he watched her. She couldn’t refuse him. She did not want to.
She drew back the covers. The room’s cool morning air enveloped her bare skin and she shivered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Edward ran one finger up the center of his cock’s shaft and nodded at her; his eyes and smile filled luscious promise. Just looking at him, her pussy grew damp, and her mouth watered. She wanted his mouth on hers, his hands on her body. Most of all, she wanted his cock—his gorgeous, hard cock—inside her again.
“I’m waiting for you, my dear.”
It was too much. Completely naked, she stood and crossed the room. She felt clumsy, a stranger in this woman’s body so filled with fire. The curls between her thighs were damp with need. She knew his bright eyes saw this, and that only sent another flash of desire through her. His gaze traveled up to her breasts, which seemed so heavy now it was hard to breathe beneath the weight of them.
“Alicia.” Edward reached out a hand to her, still touching himself with the other. His smile filled with mischief and desire. His strong, calloused hand enfolded hers as he drew her close, urging her to bend down toward him. Alicia’s pounding heart swelled and her nervousness subsided, replaced by a fresh eagerness.
He kissed her. His tongue slid without hesitation into her ready mouth, finding hers so he could stroke it as languidly as he stroked his cock. She groaned and he chuckled against her mouth.
Edward wrapped his hands around Alicia’s waist and pulled her down onto his naked lap. Not once breaking their kiss, he arranged her crosswise, supporting her back with one strong arm while her legs dangled over the arms of the chair. His hand splayed against the side of one thigh, and his cock pressed hot and hard against the other.
