Let me live.
“Look at you, crawling on your knees like a beggar woman.”
Frozen, Elizabeth stopped her slow progress.
“If he could only see you now, filthy and pathetic, blindly searching for a way out.”
“Lady Larabie,” she snarled.
“How did you know?”
“I can smell you, the stench of your perfume.” Georgiana reached down and dragged Lizzy up by a handful of her hair. Pressing her eyes shut, Elizabeth bit BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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her lip, refusing to give the woman any satisfaction for the pain she was inflicting.
“I’m going to cut you,” Georgiana murmured. “I’m going to mark that face of yours and show him what I’m capable of.”
“He’d still love me,” Elizabeth whispered. “It’s a concept you could never understand, Georgiana.” The woman cried out at the insult and tossed Elizabeth to the ground. “He won’t have you!” And then she was on top of her. Lizzy felt the knife in her hand, heard her rasp of excitement as she brought the blade down in a wide arc. Elizabeth did the only thing she could—put her hand on the blade to pull it away from her, cutting herself in the process.
Caught off balance, her assailant fell to the side, and Lizzy jumped on top of her, legs straddling her back.
Gripping the knife by the handle, she felt the warmth of her blood spilling down her hand.
“Now get up,” Lizzy ordered, “and deliver me out of this hellhole.”
Georgiana spat, lashed out and tried to take the knife.
A low growl made them both freeze. The growl was deeper this time, menacing, a truly frightening sound.
A paw touched Lizzy’s arm, followed by a whimper, then the sting of a rather large wet tongue.
“Ah, Jack,” Elizabeth whispered. “Good boy. Show me where they are.”
Georgiana struggled beneath her, but stilled the moment Jack began to growl again.
“I would mind him, Georgiana. He’s a trained killer, you know. Now, get up and lead us to the church.”
“You won’t get away with this,” the woman hissed.
“Perhaps not, but I won’t lie down here awaiting my BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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death at the hands of my brother. If I’m going to die, I’ll die as a Brethren Guardian, protecting those I love most.
Now, if you please.”
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JACK DISAPPEARED into the crypts the moment the door was opened.
“Should we follow?” Sussex asked.
“Yes, you should. You’ll find Elizabeth there, dead.” They whirled around to see Nigel Lasseter standing behind them, along with half a dozen men holding pistols pointed at them.
“At last. The time has come. You gave me a few restless nights, Sheldon. You were a complication I had not foreseen. But then I observed you and Alynwick fighting like two bulls over my lovely sister.”
“Sister?” both Iain and Black demanded.
“Indeed. When I saw how you were with each other, the blatant hostility you displayed, I knew what use you would be to me. You see, it’s the ancient adage, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And you, Sheldon, have proved your worth, bringing my fellow Brethren into my web.”
“Who the hell are you?” Black demanded.
“I see His Grace has been remiss in telling you the entire story. He isn’t Sussex, I’m afraid. I am.” And then the man known as Nigel Lasseter tore open his shirt and revealed the brand of the Brethren Guardians. “This impostor, Gabriel he was called, was my father’s by-blow. He’s no more a duke or a Brethren Guardian than the butcher who raised him.” BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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Iain looked to the man he had known forever as Sussex. The truth was on his face. When he glanced back, then at Black, Iain saw the pain in his grey eyes.
“He speaks the truth. I am the bastard son of the duke.
This man is his wastrel heir. He got himself severely injured one night in a public house across from the butcher’s where I lived and worked, and was left for dead. I recognized him as my father’s heir, and delivered him home, though our parent wanted nothing to do with him.
He wouldn’t even send for a doctor. He was more interested in the fact that I had remained alive for the sum of my years on nothing but grit and determination. It was then that he decided to allow his son to die, and to take me, his bastard, to mould into a guardian. From that moment on, I became Sussex.” He turned to Lasseter.
“You killed Anastasia because she discovered your true identity.”
“I did indeed. I took great delight in killing my father’s whore. He was allowed proclivities, but mine… Well, I wasn’t allowed anything. He saw me as weak, knew my sight was failing and wanted nothing to do with me. I vowed when I escaped death that I would show him. I would ruin his precious Brethrens, and would take back what belonged to me.”
“What is your plan?” Iain demanded. “Kill us all?”
“Very clever, Alynwick. You always were. I was always amused by your secret lust for my sister. You thought yourself too clever to be caught staring at her, but I saw you. I have known for a very long time what your weakness is. Now, all that is left to be done is the final act. I’ll bury you in the crypts, where no one will find you, and take your place, brother. I do hope your new wife is feisty in bed.”
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Sussex, or the man who called himself such, lunged forward. But he was stopped by the sound of a voice.
“No, Adrian. Not like this!”
“Lizzy!”
Iain couldn’t believe his eyes. Beth, haggard and filthy, her face streaked with dirt, was walking behind Georgiana, her arm flung around the woman’s neck and a vicious -looking blade pointed at her throat. Jack lunged into the fray, snarling, knocking Lasseter to the side. A gun went off, and Iain turned in time to see smoke rise from behind the altar. Lasseter’s men were standing with their hands in the air. And Nigel Lasseter was facedown, a crimson pool of blood growing beneath him.
“Did I not tell you, Alynwick,” Sheldon muttered as he took Georgiana from Elizabeth, “that Toth is not my butler, but a detective? It seems he had the cavalry arrive just in time.”
Iain wasn’t listening, however, was barely able to hear above the wild beating of his heart.
“Beth?” Iain murmured, blinking as if she were some kind of ghost. She was in Sussex’s arms, crying. “Beth?”
“Go to him. I’ll explain everything later,” Sussex murmured to her.
“There’s no need, Adrian. I already know,” she told him. “And all there is left for you to know is that you’ve always been my brother. He never was, but you… You’re all a sister could ever want. And your secret is safe with us. With all of us.”
“Lizzy, I love you, my dearest sister.”
“Beth!” Iain cried, running to her, knocking Sussex out of the way so he could hold her and check her wounds.
He could hardly see for the tears clouding his eyes.
She clung to him, sobbing in his arms. “I was so BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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frightened,” she whispered. “I thought I’d never see you again.�
�
“It’s over now,” he murmured as he pulled his coat from his shoulders and wrapped it around her. “You saved yourself, Beth.”
“No, Jack saved me. And someone had better reward him for the effort.”
“Take her back to the house, Alynwick,” Sussex demanded. “Lucy and Isabella are there. They’ll look after her. We’ll stay and clean up this matter. Too bad the bastard is dead, but then—” Sheldon turned to Lady Larabie
“—we have this one to question, don’t we?” Iain shook his head, looked down at the dirty face he cradled in his hands. “No,” he said, leaning down and kissing her. “No, she is coming to my house, where we can say what we need to say without any interruptions.
And I don’t give a damn what Your Grace has to say about that.”
HOURS LATER, Iain sat with Elizabeth in bed. He’d taken care of her wounds, which to his surprise were not extensive, nor painful to her. He’d bathed her slowly and carefully, allowing the water to soothe her. He’d fed her, and now wanted her to rest. But she wanted nothing to do with that. She was headstrong and determined, and he leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes, capitulating to her desires.
“Your wounds—”
“Are barely present in my mind,” she replied.
“We have much to talk about, Beth, and this—”
“This cannot wait. But our discussion can.”
“You should sleep, I’ll watch over you—protect you.”
“Sleep is the last thing I wish for,” she murmured.
“What is it you wish, then?” he asked, his voice thick.
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“To make a future, Iain. Our future. To forget the past.”
She was kissing his chin, his neck, the scent of her hair shrouding him. She had never initiated the act, not then, and not since they had renewed their affair. To have Elizabeth sliding down his body, parting his waistcoat and tearing at his shirt, was a pleasurable torture he would never get enough of. His body was straining beneath the gentle exploration of her fingers, and he wanted more.
He shouldn’t allow this, but she had her own mind. Besides, sometimes the act of love spoke louder than words.
And dear God, how he wanted to love her.
“You smell so good,” she whispered, “like man, and the woods, and sin.”
He moaned as she felt her tongue come out and lick the hollow in his throat. He wanted to guide her, to show her what he desired—but she had never done this before, never just wanted him on her own terms. And he needed this, needed to discover what she wanted from him.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her tongue snaking out to circle his nipple. “Hard, like marble, sculpted just as I remember statues look.” He couldn’t speak, could only let out a ragged breath and capture her about her neck, pulling her up and covering her mouth with his open one. The kiss was soft, yet held an undercurrent of barely restrained passion.
His hands and body wanted to take over, but he would not take this from her.
Her fingers played with the placket of his trousers, and he held his breath, waiting to feel it open, to feel the heat of Elizabeth’s body pressing into his as his cock was freed. She touched him, and he shuddered as the caress of the shirt he had given her to wear raked over the swollen, sensitive tip. She slid lower, kissing a trail along his BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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chest, his abdomen, his navel, and lower, to where his cock stood out rigidly, waiting.
She clutched him, wrapped her fingers around him, and he watched, groaning at the sight of it, the way she pumped her little fist, the way his tip glistened.
Lick it….
When she did, he tossed his head back, but refused to close his eyes. Watched, instead, Elizabeth’s tongue play with him. His cock jerked, once, twice, seeking entrance into her mouth. Which she obliged, taking him in deep, pleasuring him with her hands and the swirl of her tongue until he was forced to at least lower his eyelids in pleasure. But he could not stop watching her, the play of her lips on his sex, the way her hair brushed his thighs, the expression of pleasure—and love—on her face.
“I’m so damn selfish,” he growled as he pulled the sleeves of her linen shirt down her arms, revealing the swollen mounds of her breasts. “I couldn’t bear it to not see you like this, sliding down my body, lips moving over my skin. If I couldn’t see you,” he whispered, “bare breasted, kneeling between my thighs, I would go mad.” He would never tire of her, her breasts, the way they looked, felt, tasted. Brushing his fingers through her long black hair, he slid the heavy mass over her pale shoulder, allowing nothing to mar the view, nothing to cover her.
Her face was tilted up, her eyes closed, and he cupped her, watched as he moulded his hands to her breasts, kneaded, parted, pushed together, only to slide his palms down and capture her nipples between his fingers. Tugging, he watched her tongue come out and wet her lips, with a soft whimper, followed by another swipe of her tongue. He caught the moisture on his thumb, brought it to her nipple, wetting it.
“If I couldn’t see this,” he growled, “I’d die.” BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, her voice so husky.
“Aye, I would. I’d die a thousand deaths if I could never see you again. If I couldn’t hear the sweet sounds you make as I pleasure you. If I couldn’t taste that pleasure.”
Pulling her up, he suddenly crushed her to him, bury-ing his face in the crook of her neck, feeling her hair, silky and fragrant, against his cheek. His eyes were stinging, his body trembling as the force of his words struck a deep chord inside him.
“Iain?”
He couldn’t answer, just burrowed deeper into her neck as the sting in his eyes grew more unbearable. Oh, God, there was wetness, and a huge, gripping pain in his chest, and an unbearable sound, a sob, coming from someplace deep and dark inside him.
“Tell me what it is!”
He couldn’t. Couldn’t form the words. Where they had left off all those nights ago, in her room, when they had spoken of truth, haunted him. He wanted to be more….
So much more.
Tilting her face back, he looked into her eyes. They were unfocused, unable to settle on his face. And the same terrifying feeling stole over him once again. An acute fear—a final, painful realization—that her world was one of utter blackness. At last he realized the mag-nitude of her blindness. He couldn’t imagine never seeing her again.
It was like a death, the inevitable conclusion when someone was gone. Why it should hit him now, after all these years, he could not fathom, but it was there, and finally he understood her private hell. He’d told her he would die without sight. Selfish, arrogant bastard, concerned with his own needs, his own perversions to watch BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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himself pleasure her, to study her as she accepted him, to watch their bodies joined. How carelessly he had said that, not thinking of Elizabeth and what she would die for. What she wanted in this life.
Until his dying breath, he would see her like this, naked, on her knees, giving to him, pleasuring him with such perfection. The last image of her would be her smile as she slipped into climax. And in her mind hers would be…
“Oh, God, I would give anything to change the past,” he gasped. “To make it so that the last thing you saw was not me walking away from you. In your memories I am forever one and twenty, and cocky, and sneering, and look
ing self-righteous. And I’ve changed, Beth,” he gasped, choking on a sob he could not hide. “I want so damn much for you to see how I’ve changed. To see me now. There are no lies in my eyes. No motives other than to show you that I am not the callous man I was. And that I love you…. I love you so damn much.” He was crying. The tears trickled unchecked down his cheeks, dripping onto his lips. She touched them, wiped them away, which only caused them to spill faster and harder.
“I wish… I would give up everything if you could only see me now, looking at you with such adoration and such love. But you can’t. And it breaks me…haunts me to know that you only see what I was. How I looked at you when I turned away from you and what we had.” He sobbed again, and felt the gentle press of her lips against his mouth.
“I don’t see that, Iain. I see the boy I loved. But I also see the man you’ve become. I don’t need sight to know you. Or see you.”
“Let me show you, Beth. Let me make you believe me.” BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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He clutched her, slid down onto the bed with her.
Kissed her.
“You don’t have to give anything up,” she whispered, but he refused to listen. He stripped off his clothes, toss-ing them onto the floor. All except the cravat, which he tied over his eyes.
“No, Iain, don’t do this.”
“Shh,” he whispered as he tied it behind his head. Testing the knot, he was satisfied that it was dark enough.
He wanted to do this for her. For them.
“Really, it’s enough to know you would do this. I know how… Well, I know how much pleasure you get from watching.”
Damn, he could feel the blush in her words. And her voice… He had never really before noticed how husky and sensual it was. He was always too busy watching her, gazing at her face, those delightful breasts, her luscious body, while he thought up ways to seduce her.
“Take off the shirt, Beth.”
He heard the slide of the linen along her body, was amazed that he could hear the slight hitching of her breath. His skin felt sensitized, he could sense her so close to him, and the anticipation was unbearable.
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