The Devil May Care

by Emma V. Leech

  “Nothing,” he said, wondering wildly if he should thank God or pray. His wife appeared to be the epitome of the phrase, never judge a book by its cover. “But you're scaring me just a bit, little bird,” he added, grinning at her and pulling her close for a kiss.

  Chapter 23

  “Wherein our hero discovers the morning after."

  Milly wondered if there was any good reason that they should ever leave the bedroom again. Suddenly those distracting pictures made sense, as did Beau's continuous pursuit of pleasure. She realised now why he did it. If this was how it felt there was no wonder. It was the most powerful drug she could imagine. There was nothing else in life that could come close to this pleasure, there couldn't be, nothing would ever get done.

  Beau was staring down at her with such a look of consternation in his eyes, though, she didn't know what to make of it.

  “Why should I scare you?” she asked, perplexed but immediately distracted by the urgent need to run her hands over his chest. It was heavily muscled with a light covering of coarse golden hair that caught around her fingers and rasped against her breasts in a delightful manner whenever he moved. She arched towards him, needing him to ease the insistent throbbing between her thighs and found the wondrous satin hardness of his body still lying heavily against her. She pressed harder, catching her breath as that exquisite gathering of pleasure began to build again.

  He groaned against her neck. “Oh, no reason ...” he said, laughing a little. She glanced up at him, wondering why he sounded nervous.

  “Do it again, please,” she asked him, desperate to climb the heights again as her body tightened helplessly.

  “Anything, love,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her with tender, soft touches. “Tell me what you need.”

  She reached up and touched his mouth. “Do it again.” His eyes, such a brilliant blue, darkened perceptibly, the pupil growing wide and swamping the azure background. A slow smile spread over that sensuous mouth and he began to kiss a path back down her body.

  “I am yours to command,” he said, pausing to look up at her. “Your slave, sweet, wicked, little bird.”

  He kissed down to her thighs, his hot breath fanning over her and tormenting her over-sensitive flesh. He toyed with her a little, his tongue darting out and playing with the tiny bud of her sex. She moved, restless and impatient beneath him and then felt the slide of his fingers inside her. One at first, easing into her with care, sliding, caressing and then joined by a second. She gasped and opened herself to him more fully, needing more, so much more. It was good, so good, but he was deliberately slow, deliberately not quite firm enough, not allowing her to rush away and chase the fierce glow that was hovering just out of sight.

  “Beau,” she moaned, the word a plea.

  “What, love, tell me ...” he whispered, his voice a caress all of its own under the soft glimmer of the candlelight.

  “It's not enough ... I need more, give me more ...”

  A soft, masculine chuckle then. “Oh, I will ... I promise.” And then he crooked his fingers and hit a decadent spot that she didn't know existed and white light blazed behind her eyelids. She clutched at the bedsheets, writhing and bucking beneath him, uncaring what picture of wanton abandonment she must present to him.

  She could see that picture in his eyes, though, as he crawled over her.

  “I can't wait any more,” he said, and she felt him against her, hard and burning hot against the tender flesh that still throbbed with such pleasure she felt drunk with it. “Oh God, Milly, you're so lovely ...”

  He murmured sweet words to her as he nudged against her.

  “I'll try not to hurt you, love,” he said, his voice becoming rougher and unsteady as he began to push a little inside her. But Milly didn't care, she didn't think about the fact it might hurt only that she needed him now. She needed him to fill the hollow sensation that had been clawing at her for too long. That empty feeling he had awakened in her from the moment they first met, and she had begun to long for something she knew she couldn't have. She opened her legs wider, pulling at him, wanting to feel the heavy weight of him upon her, tugging him deeper inside.

  He gave a groan and thrust hard, the shock of pain too brief for her to make a sound and she simply wrapped herself around him, chasing the pleasure that seemed his to command.

  She clutched at his broad shoulders, her hands sliding over the silky expanse of his back as he moved, filling her, deeper and more completely with every thrust. Turning his head she caught a flash of those dazzling blue eyes before he captured her mouth, kissing her with breathless hunger. She gave back with equal greed, tongues caressing and hot breath mingling together. The feel of him was exquisite and overwhelming, and she gave herself over to it, aware only of her body and his and the strange new language they spoke of breathless moans and cries of pleasure.

  She arched under him, growing taut once more as pleasure spiked and set her tumbling into another climax. Beau seemed to hold his breath, easing her through the aftershocks and then moving harder and deeper, chasing his own release until he gave a startled cry. He groaned, the sound deep in his chest as he jerked violently, clutching at her hips and spilling his seed inside her.

  It was incredible, to watch the rapture on his face, to feel that powerful body shaking so helplessly as pleasure stole his control. Milly felt a rush of power, of desire, of a nameless, desperate emotion that made her want more, need more. She pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him as he fought to steady his breathing, moving against him, powerless to fight the sensations thrumming through her.

  He stared down at her, eyes wide as though he'd unwittingly brought a strange and sensual creature to his bed that he'd never seen before.

  “Don't ...” she gasped, helpless as her body screamed for him. “Don't stop, oh please, Beau, please ...”

  He complied, his blue eyes full of surprise as he moved inside her, his hand slipping between them to touch her over-heated flesh. It was enough and she clung to him again, saying his name over and over as she fell into bliss and finally subsided, boneless and sated into a pleasure drunk languor.

  She woke sometime later, unaware of what time it was but the candles had burnt low in their sockets. The flickering golden light warmed the body beside her and she caught her breath. Beau was stretched out on his back, his head turned towards her and the covers tangled in disarray around his long legs.

  Every where he glinted gold, from the gold waves of his thick hair and the faint haze of stubble at his chin to the faint scattering of hair on his chest and legs and that inviting trail that led her gaze lower as the covers impeded her view. He put her in mind of some ancient fertility idol cast in gold and worshipped by a pagan race.

  Her heart clenched in her chest as she wondered what on earth she'd done. Things had been complicated enough before, but now ... how would she get through a day without demanding he satisfy the need that was even now beginning to coil inside her like a greedy phantom? It was like some strange force had overtaken her body and mind and compelled her to act in a way that frightened her more than a little.

  She remembered what Dollie had said about getting her husband's attention though. Well she thought it was safe to say she had it. For the moment at least. She doubted she would keep it long though. Because she understood now what drove him. She understood the excitement and thrill he must feel in seeking out a new lover and discovering how their bodies fit together. Jealousy burned in her heart and she knew she couldn't live with it. Clenching her fists she felt a tremor of real fear this time. What would she do if she discovered he'd been with someone else? The rage that swept over her stole her breath. She thought she could very well kill someone. But whether it would be him or his lover, or perhaps both of them, she couldn't quite decide.

  Reaching out she touched a possessive hand to his chest, feeling his heart thudding strong and steady beneath her palm. His skin was warm and silky and she ran her hand over him. Down over the curved muscle
on his chest and torso, allowing her fingers to travel the path of that golden hair, darker here than elsewhere. Her hand dipped beneath the covers and found him surprisingly soft in repose. She caressed, her touch gentle as his body reacted even while he slept. Smiling, she watched him stir, his thick eyelashes fluttering a little though he didn't wake.

  She continued, her touch not enough to wake him but enough to stir his body to life. Pleased by her mastery over his flesh she ducked her head and ran her tongue over him in a manner that had drawn the most extraordinary sound from him earlier. It didn't fail this time either. His eyes flicked open, that dazzling blue looking down at her, hazy with surprise. He made an incoherent sound of deep approval and she repeated the process, enraptured by the way he reacted. Every sound of pleasure, every gasp and the restless movements of his body beneath her gave her confidence and spurred her on. But in the end her own flesh was calling too hard for her own pleasure and it was with blissful relief that Beau apparently decided he could take no more of her delicious torment.

  He tumbled her onto her back, sinking into her welcoming body with a moan. Joining them together with a ferocity that had him pinning her to the bed, they rushed towards a frantic and heated climax that left them both panting and dazed with the force of it.

  Beau held her to him, refusing to let her go even though they were both hot and sticky. He murmured nonsense to her, sweet endearments that only made her sad as she suspected many women had heard the same loving voice in their ears before. But she said nothing, just rested her head on his chest and allowed sleep to steal over her again. Content that this at least was hers for now, for tonight at the very least, and wondering how she could possibly keep it.

  ***

  Beau stirred as daylight hit his face and blinked into the muted sunshine that filtered through the curtains. Frowning he realised they were the wrong colour and then remembered with a delicious wash of pleasure that he was in Milly's room. Reaching out he went to pull his lovely wife back into his arms and was bitterly disappointed to find a cold, empty space. Rubbing a hand over his face he tried to force himself to wake and sat upright, looking around the room and finding that she was nowhere to be seen.

  He sat back against the pillows feeling alarmingly ill at ease. Why had she gone? It had always been his experience that women wanted him to stay, they would beg and cajole and use all kinds of wiles to make sure he was still with them when they woke. But Beau always fled long before morning. No matter how warm and comfortable the bed he never lingered.

  Because in the morning things were always different. In the morning there was a different kind of intimacy than merely the joining of bodies. If you stayed they might believe there was more to it than just a physical attraction, more than a need to satisfy a desire for empty pleasures. They might think you cared.

  Beau swallowed, a strangely vulnerable feeling growing in his chest. Was that why she'd run before he woke? Because she was avoiding that kind of intimacy with him.

  He remembered the extraordinary night he'd just spent and wondered just what he had to do to make his wife fall in love with him. He'd believed he had experienced everything there was to experience in bed. But before last night, sex had been a series of moves and rehearsed lines. He knew he was a skilled lover and often when he met someone equally clever in bed the results could be spectacular. But nothing, nothing had ever felt like being with Milly.

  Milly was bold and exciting and damn near insatiable. My God when she'd woken him in the night he could hardly believe it after everything they'd done before, and now he was exhausted, a bone deep fatigue that he'd never experienced before. But he wanted her here now. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her how he felt, to talk nonsense and make plans for their futures and see those big dark eyes look at him with something more than just affection.

  He'd thought he'd seen it last night. For one heady, wonderful moment he had believed she loved him when she called his name, clinging to him as pleasure stole any possible reserve. But if that was true ... where was she?

  Chapter 24

  "Wherein the benefit of experience is heeded."

  "Calm down, Milly, love," Dollie said, laughing and taking her hand. Your Grace had been dispensed with in very short order much to Milly's relief. Dollie might be a strange friend for a duchess but Milly didn't feel much like a duchess. More than that she found she liked Dollie, and she trusted her. "Dear me, I don't know why you are in such a fluster. It sounds to me like you have the poor man in the palm of your hand."

  "Yes but for how long?" Milly wailed, wondering if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  She'd felt terrible leaving Beau asleep without a word, and it had been so very difficult to do. So dreadfully difficult in fact that all her fears came crashing down on her again and she had run to the only person who could possibly advise her.

  If Dollie had been surprised to see her new friend and business partner at such an early hour of the morning she'd betrayed no sign of it. Dressed now in a decadent and rather revealing confection of dove grey silk and lace she looked at Milly with a fond expression.

  "From what you've said I'm beginning to doubt you need much help from me," she said with a wry smile as she lifted a pretty china tea cup to her lovely mouth.

  "Oh, but I do," Milly exclaimed, wishing she could look half as glamorous as this elegant creature first thing in the morning. Perhaps then she'd have half a chance of keeping her husband's interest.

  Dollie had asked her a few rather pointed and desperately embarrassing questions about her first night with Beau, and had appeared extremely surprised and rather bemused by Milly's faltering responses. She wanted very much to believe in Dollie's exclamations that if half of what Milly had told her was true, Beau would likely never have the energy to look at another woman again, let alone the desire. But Milly only had to look at herself next to the lush splendour of Mrs Dashton to know that novelty could only take you so far. Once Beau had grown used to her she would lose her allure, and soon enough there would be another beautiful young woman to fill her place.

  "I need to know what you know, Dollie. I need to know how to keep him coming back to me instead of running to find someone new and exciting."

  Milly watched as Dollie picked up a slice of bread and butter and bit into it, chewing with a contemplative expression. She dabbed at her mouth in a prim fashion that made Milly smile before turning back to her protégé.

  "I think you already know everything you need, love," she said, a fond expression in her eyes. "However, it won't hurt to give you a little confidence in such things and of course I will help you. Though you must take care in coming here. It won't do you any good to be seen with me."

  She picked up her tea cup again and took a sip, regarding Milly over the rim. "Why aren't you wearing one of your new dresses?" she asked, looking at the high neck with curiosity.

  Milly shrugged. "I don't know. Silly I suppose but I ... I just felt so out of control. It made me feel ... calmer. Is that ridiculous?"

  "Not in the slightest," Dollie replied getting to her feet and offering Milly her hand. "Come and see my wardrobe," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Clothes can make you feel powerful. If you know someone finds you beautiful or desirable, then you know you have a means of persuasion over them that others don't. If clothes make you feel confident you will appear to be more confident. You know men work extremely hard to keep power out of our hands and so we are forced to use other means to get that power. Sex, desire, love, all of these are powerful motivators and can be used to meet your own ends."

  She paused, turning back to Milly. "But have a care, dear. If you love him and you want him to love you, don't manipulate him. You'll regret it."

  Milly looked at her aghast. "I-I wouldn't. I don't want to. I ... I just don't want to lose him."

  Dollie turned and to her surprise gave Milly an impulsive hug. "He'd be the biggest fool alive to turn his back on you."

  "My moth
er always said men were fools," Milly replied, looking sceptical. "She said they were like children and should be treated as such."

  Dollie laughed, a delightful ringing sound that made Milly grin in response. "Well your mother had something there," she admitted, leading Milly upstairs and into an astonishingly lovely if shocking room, swathed entirely in deep purple satin.

  "You've known Beau for a while haven't you?" she asked, tearing her attention from the vast four poster bed and watching Dollie's face with interest.

  "Yes, darling, but I never went to bed with him," she said, with the kind of direct honesty that Milly had come to value. "Though I know some that did," she added. "I'll admit I have always rather regretted it." She held up her hands at Milly's outraged expression. "Oh don't eat me, I wouldn't dream of it! But he is a handsome devil."

  They carried on through to Dollie's boudoir and Milly waited as she rifled through a vast array of exotic, rustling fabrics and wispy silks and held various examples up for Milly's approval.

  Finally selecting the perfect dress, Dollie finally closed the cupboard doors "Now then I think you said the first mention of My Lady's Secret will be in the papers tomorrow morning?"

  Milly nodded. "Mr Priestly should be placing the adverts this afternoon once he's picked up the engraving." She experienced a jolt of unease at the realisation that her next meeting with Mr Priestly might be a touch awkward. If she was honest Beau had been quite right in everything he'd said about her walking with him alone and taking his gift, or at least he would be if he hadn't spent time amusing himself with Mrs Hadley. Predictably the very thought of the wretched blonde's name made Milly want find something sharp and pointy.

  "Excellent," Dollie said, dabbing a decadent scent behind her ears and into her décolletage. "Because I am seeing just the woman to start spreading the word early next week. She's a terrible gossip and loves to be the first one to know everything. I can't stand her but she's wealthy and influential and very good ton."