One Reckless Night

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One Reckless Night Page 2

by Helen Dickson


  Unlacing his breeches and tugging them down over his well-muscled thighs, he bent over her, exploring her creamy flesh, to tease her into a state of heightened passion, to run his fingers and tongue over every swell and curve of her, tightening her nipples until it was almost pain, and most certainly pleasure. She arched up against him, throbbing with the need to find fulfillment, making soft noises of encouragement.

  Lucas’s body moved into place upon hers and he slid his hips between her thighs, his erection poised at the gate of her passion. The feel of her, moist and inviting, drove away any thought but the need to possess her. He pushed inside her, just a little, as if to test her. If he expected her to resist, then he was mistaken. Hester pushed back, wrapping her thighs about his hips, clasping him in her arms. He sank in deeper. She threw back her head and gasped, digging her fingernails into his back.

  Lucas lifted her hips and they merged together as lovers who were bound to each other for all eternity. His hard thrusting passion drove Hester beyond the flickering lights of the present into another world. She pleaded with him not to stop. But Lucas had no intention of stopping. He doubted that he could, even had he wanted to, for he had waited too long to thrust and squander this precious time with instant gratification. The feel of her, the sensation of being inside her, the scent of her, was pounding relentlessly at his senses.

  With the weight of his body pinioning her, Hester felt something incredible as she moved beneath him, lifting her thighs and catching his hair in her hands, pulling it, throwing her head from side to side as the fountain welled within and began to brim. She was a kitten clawing, purring as the beauty became unbearable and with flesh filling flesh, his hard and strong as steel and soft as velvet, her own clutching, clinging, her body arching to meet him, to bring him closer still, she was lost, soaring into oblivion that loomed just ahead, awaiting with shuddering intensity.

  Even as they rode that long, wondrous wave of repletion, they wanted each other again. It was the end How could it be?

  Finally they lay still, clasped in each other’s arms. Filled with a feeling that was part joy, part awe and part reverence, Lucas gazed down at the woman who had just sent him to unparalleled heights of unequalled depths of satisfaction. With his palm still on her breasts, he could feel her heartbeat, felt it slowing, her body languid with pleasure. For a moment all was quiet, all was perfection. Lucas was looking at her with an aching possessive love. With no regrets, now, more than ever he was determined to claim back the woman he thought he’d lost.

  ‘Dear God, Hester, what have you done to me?’

  When they had parted, Lucas had thought their passion would fade. He had been wrong. If anything, it had grown stronger, more desperate—he wanted her more not less.

  ‘Every day we were apart my imagination beheld no one but you and I saw the things of the world about me only in relation to you. As a result I was the most miserable of men. I have no intention of letting you go again.’ Getting to his feet, taking her hand, he helped her to stand and settled her in a chair, lovingly draping a blanket round her shoulders. ‘Sit awhile, my love. I’ll get us a drink of something to warm us through. Then I’ll prepare something to eat and you can tell me what you are doing here.’

  Moments later they sat in silence, each sipping at a glass of warming brandy. Lucas lounged in the chair across from Hester, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

  Beneath the shadow of her long lashes, feeling the warmth of the liquor in her throat and her body deliciously relaxed after his loving, Hester glanced at the man who had reentered her life so unexpectedly. Observing him watching her covertly, she felt herself being pulled toward him once more, drawn by his brooding amber eyes. There was something in their depths that made her shiver—something primal. When her breath caught in her throat, he cocked his head, staring at her like an animal intent on its prey.

  ‘I cannot believe you are here,’ he murmured, lost in her beauty. The fire’s glow gave her an ethereal quality. Her hair hung about her shoulders in an almost white, wispy cloud. There was a purity about her—she was pure down to her immortal soul. Innocence radiated from her, a gentle innocence, and strength. Not physical strength, but strength of spirit, and he yearned to be touched by it.

  Hester sat in rapt attention. They were both victims of the overwhelming forces at work between them. Her throat was dry, her nerves stretched tight, for she could not believe the force of her need for this man. Despite the years of separation, her feelings for Lucas were stronger and deeper than ever. Beginning to feel the heat, she slipped the blanket down her shoulders, unashamed that her breasts were bare, her skin and her eyes glowing in the firelight.

  A slow smile touched Lucas’s lips. ‘You’re still as lovely as I remember, Hester—more so after our loving. What made you come here—and on a night such as this? I would like to think you came to see me—but you said you didn’t know I had returned. Why can’t you go home? What are you hiding from—or from whom? Your father?’

  She shook her head. ‘I see you still read me well, Lucas. My father is dead.’

  He fell silent. After a moment he said, ‘I cannot pretend to feel regret. You should have married me, Hester—gone with me to America.’

  ‘I wanted to—you cannot imagine how much, but there was too much against us…’

  ‘Only your coldhearted monster of a father. The very thought of that man—how he manipulated you, dominated you, hurt you, sickens me even now. You knew I had feelings for you. It was not just your loveliness, but also the beauty of your spirit. You were so sweet and pure and good.’ He smiled at her, a gentle smile with a hint of melancholy. ‘I dared to hope, to dream that one day you might return those feelings. You could have gone with me, but you chose to stay with your family.’

  She smiled, blinking back tears, refusing to feel sorry for herself. ‘Without you, Lucas, I resigned myself to being a spinster all my life. And now if I am to remain a spinster, at least I will be an independent one and carry on my father’s work as a cloth merchant. The business is beginning to recover from the war.’

  ‘So you discarded marriage,’ he said quietly. ‘You were too cruel on yourself. You are too lovely to condemn your life to spinsterhood.’

  His eyes captured hers and held them prisoner until Hester felt a warmth suffuse her cheeks. Lucas was a fiercely proud man and he had taken her rejection hard. She drew a tortured breath. ‘Lucas—I—’

  But he was not ready to let her speak. ‘Did it not occur to you that there was nothing I would not have done for you, nothing I would not have given you? I would have given you my life—but you rejected me. I would have done anything to get you away from your brutal, controlling father. In that I failed.’

  Her heart wrenched with the pain of his words. ‘How you must have hated me,’ she said softly. ‘You are a proud man, Lucas, and I was raised on hatred and cruelty and fear, and I allowed the vestiges of all that hatred to turn me away from you.’

  Ever since she was a little girl full of fanciful dreams, Hester had always wanted to know a handsome, clever man. Lucas had been that man, with his steady, half-humorous gaze, his handsome face, the smile that could be so attractive and had that extra something that makes a man irresistible to women.

  But it wasn’t his looks that had lured her to him. She was compelled by a superior force, something drawn out of her by him, which was simply irresistible. She had adored him, but she had not been capable of going against her father. She did not have that kind of courage. And so Lucas had gone to America without her.

  ‘I never hated you, Hester.’

  ‘Don’t you think I wanted to go with you when you left? Did you honestly believe I would choose to continue living in my father’s house—the man who made my life and the lives of my sisters and Jane Russell a living hell? How could I leave them? I was the eldest. I couldn’t do that to them. He was my father, my guardian.’

  ‘So you sacrificed yourself. As things have turned out, was it w
orth it?’

  ‘For my sisters perhaps, but not for me. I lost you—that was hard for me to bear. I was not of an age when I could disobey my father. I was afraid, afraid of what he would do to my sisters if I left. Can you ever forgive me?’ she asked.

  ‘I believe I can forgive you anything.’

  ‘You are a truly remarkable man, Lucas. Even when my father tried to turn me against you, it was impossible. And when you went away it broke my heart.’ He gave a smile and it lacerated her, for his smile had always lit up her heart.

  ‘Bless you for that. You are a sensitive woman—exceptionally so. You were torn, your loyalties pulled every way. I don’t blame you for what happened. You had a duty to remain here. I knew that. You were not of an age when you could please yourself, but in my selfishness to have you near me, I didn’t want to acknowledge it.’

  Hester made no response. What he said had given her pause. If she had been going to confide in him all that was tormenting her, how could she do that now? He would despise her when he knew the truth about her—that she had killed her own father. He would probably think she was mad—a witch.

  She gave him a wan smile. ‘I’m glad you understand, and thank you for allowing me into your home.’

  Standing up, he came and stood before her. His amber eyes were bright and clear against the fringe of dark lashes. Taking her hand, he raised her up. She felt the heat of him as he stepped closer, felt the power of his attractiveness. It made her a little dizzy and weak, then a small tornado of excitement began to whirl inside her once more. The yearning, the longing that was bursting inside her was there in her face, in her eyes, there for him to see. Her fingers ached to trace his features. She was hungry for the wondrous comfort of his arms once more, heedless of all save his touch, his embrace, the indestructible reality of his love and her own soaring joy.

  Standing on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. ‘Kiss me,’ she whispered, wanting nothing more than to savour this brief time she would have with him before the law found her and she paid the ultimate price for murdering her father. ‘Love me again, Lucas. Don’t hold back.’

  Sliding his fingers up her neck and through her hair, only too happy to oblige, he placed his lips on hers and kissed her hard. Suddenly she was in his arms, kissing his mouth, his face, his neck, murmuring his name as if nothing in the world existed for her but him. He had to catch his breath in sharp reaction as their thighs brushed. The contact left him battling a familiar ache, the intensity of which could have been likened to being hit in the gut.

  Their lips blended with impatient urgency and, locked in each other’s embrace, once again they were caught up in the fierce tide of passion. Lucas pressed fevered kisses along the ivory column of her throat before finding her mouth once more. The warmth of his lips spread throughout Hester’s body, making it sing, filling it with life. He took her face in his hands and kissed her with so much tenderness she thought she would melt, his lips moving slowly, tasting every part of her mouth, letting her taste him.

  He inhaled the intoxicating scent of her. She was sweet, innocent and genuine. He’d lost his heart to her for the second time in his life.

  Hester’s breath was short, her eyes closed with the realization of what she was doing. But she didn’t care. There was a slow, strength-shattering churning in the pit of her stomach that all but took her breath away. In its wake it left a gnawing, hungry craving that seemed to pulse at her very core. Awed and excited by what she was feeling, she raised her gaze to find Lucas watching her closely, as if he could see something that was beyond her knowledge.

  She was so far past coherent, rational thought and action. The touch of a cold draught touched her face and made her flinch. He must have sensed her anxiety, because he brushed her cheek gently, caressing lightly with his fingers. then both his hands moved along her arms. Raising her hair, he kissed a spot below her ear. Blood pulsed just beneath her smooth flesh. His tongue stroked her, marvelling at the feel of satin skin. She tasted delicious.

  His breath was hot. Her body melted, sultry and inviting. She was limp, unseeing, unthinking. Overwhelmed, she moaned softly when his hands cupped her breasts. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands slid easily over her bare skin, so gentle, so caring, so very tender. Her body ached, his touch filling her with heat and lust, and suddenly they were both stretched out naked once more in front of the fire.

  Experiencing the strong, sexual pull of her, with none of the urgency of their earlier union and deliberately taking his time to raise her to unbearable heights, Lucas kissed her belly, his fingers moving farther down to touch her, each caress sending shards of indescribable pleasure through her. His hard manhood for the second time that night pressed against her thigh. Again he kissed her thoroughly. He kissed her with a power and a passion she had only dreamed about but never expected. He knew it, too, knew what she wanted better than she did, for he was tormenting her with his relentless demand. When he raised his head, his eyes were so dark they were almost black.

  Lucas lost any semblance of sanity, murmuring words of endearment without knowing what he was saying as he drove into her tight sheath again and again, pushing himself to the edge of oblivion. Hester moaned softly, her thighs trembling against his hips. Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed. Her body writhed beneath him, meeting, feverishly intertwining at last. With his lips and tongue he continued to arouse her, with his manhood he stroked deep inside her, until the passion that had always existed between them burst in her mind and through her body—and her heart.

  When Lucas thought he was about to lose his mind, finally he collapsed, falling over the edge, into a white-hot heaven of pure sensation.

  It was long into the night before their bodies finally succumbed to the dreamy, languid aftermath of complete and repeated consummation. Hester nestled in the crook of his arm, kissing again and again the burly forest of his chest, musky and sweet. There was something pleasant about making love in front of an open fire—the sweet scent of logs was seductive.

  But whatever joy she had savoured in Lucas’s arms, it was over. Exhausted and replete, he slept. Stronger now, the wind rattled the panes and the curtains shivered as she rose and left his side, pulling on her clothes.

  In her unhappiness and haste, with a broken sob and hauling her bag along with her, Hester left the house, pouring out her anguish to the wildness of the night. Everything seemed suddenly too much for her to bear, all her fear and her love for Lucas culminating in that brief interlude of passion that was now her torment. She would go home to her sisters, and then, unable to live with the heavy burden of her guilt, she would throw herself on the mercy of the two men who had come after her.

  Chapter Three

  Before dawn Lucas awoke to find Hester had gone. His visage was grim. He was worried. He was also furious. The thought of her wandering unprotected at the height of the storm beyond the sheltering walls of the Grange turned his blood cold. Shrugging into his cloak and clamping a hat on his head, he went to the stable to saddle his horse and was soon in pursuit.

  Cast in the night shades of black and dark grey, Hester stumbled along the rough track toward the town.

  ‘Hester!’

  Though the name seemed no more than a whisper in the wind, Hester’s head snapped around. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the downpour, she blinked the rain from her lashes. A strange blend of fear, shame and relief swept her at the sight of Lucas. Her determination not to weaken was undiminished. Yet the desire to fling herself into his arms and sob out against his shoulder her relief that he had come after her and confess her crime almost tore her in two, but she pulled back. He sat like some dreadful, dark warrior on the back of the tall steed.

  ‘What the hell are you doing out here?’ he shouted above the noise of the wind ripping through the trees, throwing himself from his horse. ‘Don’t you know what could happen to you? Already the river will have risen to dangerous levels.’ Muttering an oath, he scooped her roughly up into his arms
and lifted her onto his horse. Securing the bag to the saddle and swinging up behind her, he clamped a protective arm around her and headed back to the Grange.

  Inside the house he threw off his cloak and hat, pacing back and forth, his white shirt clinging wetly to his broad shoulders and tapered back. After a moment he stopped and stared at her in blank fury.

  ‘Why the hell did you decide to leave like that? Have you no concept of what could happen to you in a storm like this?’

  ‘You’re quite right to scold me,’ she replied, wearily removing her sodden cloak and sitting down before the fire, staring into the flames. ‘But I had to leave.’

  ‘Do you mind telling me why? But before you do I should tell you that I have an aversion to deceit.’

  ‘I have an aversion to deception, too,’ Hester uttered with a little shiver. ‘And an even greater aversion to being caught out in one.’

  ‘Then be good enough to answer my question.’

  ‘What question?’

  ‘Earlier I asked you what you were doing here. I asked you if you were afraid to go home. You thought the house was empty, so you did not come to seek me out—and I don’t believe you were seeking shelter from the storm. What is it, Hester? You don’t have to be afraid of your father anymore. He’s dead, so he cannot hurt you unless you let him.’

  ‘But I am afraid,’ she cried. ‘He hurts me more now that he is dead than he ever did in life.’

  ‘Why?’ Lucas asked on a gentler note, puzzled by the tragic sensitivity that surrounded her.

  She hesitated. She was frightened now—more than she had ever been before. If she told him what she had done, this newfound happiness was in danger of being snatched from her and she would find no mercy. But then, she thought, calmer now as she gazed deep into his eyes and saw his need and concern for her burning bright, their physical union had brought about a new understanding and she suddenly knew she could trust him with her secrets and that she should not have run from him.

 

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