A Kiss of Lies

by Bronwen Evans

  She felt her face flood with heat. “When you touch me, I don’t think I could hide anything from you.” That thought doused her euphoria with ice. She had terrible secrets to hide. If he knew what she’d done—no, had been forced to do—would he still look at her with that soft light in his eyes?

  He noted her mental withdrawal and misunderstood. “Don’t let your imagination frighten you. I’ll not hurt you even when I’m finally inside you.”

  But he was right. The thought of him impaling her with his erection was scary. He was much larger than her husband. Her husband had hurt her.

  “It won’t hurt, I promise,” he whispered in her ear as if he understood her fear. “If you are prepared properly, I will fit you easily. You felt how slick and wet I made you. There will be no pain.”

  She turned to face him on the bed. She ran her hand over his burns. “Thank you.” She watched his irises darken, and her attention shifted to Christian’s loins. The thick, swollen length of his erection rose quickly again under her gaze, almost to his abdomen.

  “See how your body affects me. It doesn’t mean I’m going to pounce on you. You’re not ready. But soon you’ll be begging me to pleasure you all night.” With that he rose and pulled up his trousers.

  “Thank you for having the patience to help me. Not many men would take the time.” She gulped. “Most would take by force.”

  His hand halted on the buttons of his trousers. “If your husband wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him as painfully as I could. No woman should ever be taken by force.”

  She didn’t have any answer for his fervent declaration. For most of her life she’d been forced to do what others wanted. The freedom she was finding in her new position as a widow was ironic, given that she was a fugitive.

  Once he’d finished dressing, he bent and kissed her. When she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he groaned, and the kiss deepened until he pulled back and in a shaky voice said, “You’re testing me to my limits, madam.” He stroked his hand over her hair and whispered, “There will be more of this tomorrow night. The anticipation of what I intend to do to you will only add to your pleasure.”

  “I’m already heady with expectation. Tomorrow evening seems a long way away.”

  He laughed. It was a glorious sound. She wished he’d laugh more.

  “Then I shall have to think of something to occupy you until then. Perhaps you would care for a trip into Kingston?”

  She refused to let her horror crowd her face. “Perhaps … although the thought of going into town in this heat, when we have at hand a white sandy beach and clear blue water, is not appealing. I’m sure Lily will agree.” The last thing Sarah wanted to do was to go exploring. What if someone recognized her?

  Christian frowned. “Quite right. Lily would hate it.” He sighed and moved to the door. “Sebastian and I have business in town, so perhaps I’ll simply await your company at dinner.”

  “I shall look forward to it,” she cooed, her sultry voice unrecognizable to her ears. While married, she’d done all she could not to arouse her husband’s passions. With Christian, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him inflamed.

  He opened the door and had a quick look up and down the corridor. Just before he slipped out, he promised, “I’ll wager not as much as I. Goodnight, darling. Pleasant dreams.”

  Sarah sagged flat on the bed and fell into her old habit of biting her lip when worried. All thoughts of pleasure had been vanquished. How could she get Christian to leave this island as soon as possible? She had managed to put off the inevitable for at least another day, but wanting to swim wasn’t going to work every time he asked her to go into Kingston.

  Sleep evaded her as she lay pondering just how she would stay hidden while in Jamaica. If she were brave enough, there was one option open to her—to keep Christian otherwise occupied.

  No. She wasn’t quite ready for that.

  Perhaps she could offer to paint Christian’s portrait. What with Lily’s lessons, and painting, she wouldn’t have time to leave Roaring Pavilions.

  Chapter Ten

  It was late in the afternoon. Sarah had been alone on the beach for the last half hour. Lily had gone to have a nap; she’d been exhausted by the sun and sea. Sarah had teased Lily, saying that if she swum any more she’d turn into a mermaid.

  Sarah cherished this time to herself. Her life had been a nightmare for so long that she couldn’t really absorb the dream it had now become. She smacked her palms against the fine sand. She had to rid herself of this smug satisfaction. She was still a fugitive, and as such, she would never escape the feeling of forever having to look over her shoulder and hide her true self.

  Sarah hugged her knees to her chest and took in the view. If heaven existed, then Sarah thought this place must be a close second. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. After her sleepless night, she’d taken the opportunity to doze, letting the heat from the sand comfort her.

  But now she was far too hot, even under the shade of the palm tree. Clambering to her feet, she looked around. She was on her own. She peeled off her robe until she stood in only her shift. Gathering her courage, she ran squealing like a young girl into the sea. The light linen shift didn’t drag her down as she swam out further. She felt alive and free, diving under the waves and marveling at the underwater world visible in the clear water. She looked back at the shoreline and decided to swim toward shore. She didn’t wish to swim out too far, or she’d be exhausted. Sarah wanted her senses on full alert for this evening. Already the anticipation of her next foray into the world of sensual delights with Christian had her stomach churning. She was unsure if it was in anticipation or trepidation.

  Lost in the images of what would occur in her bedchamber tonight, she was halfway up the beach when an ice-cold prickly sensation made her stop and lift her head. She looked up to find Sebastian standing next to her belongings, where she’d left them lying under the tree.

  Her head turned to sweep her surroundings. They were alone.

  She couldn’t keep the fear from crawling over her skin. Panic kept her rooted to the spot. Her shift clung to her body and she knew without even looking down that it was completely transparent. Sebastian’s gaze looked her over thoroughly, his eyes roaming like fingers over her skin.

  She watched with wary eyes as Sebastian bent down and picked up her robe.

  Sarah looked wildly around—where could she run to? Would anyone hear her if she screamed? Her voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t make a sound.

  He approached her from across the sand. His powerful frame of rippling muscle moved forward, declaring that this was his beach and he’d do what he liked on it. He did not even have the decency to keep his eyes on her face. His eyes swept over her form, lingering on her breasts and the junction between her thighs.

  Sarah tried to shield her body with arms and hands. His response was a cold, tight smile.

  She took small steps backward as he prowled nearer. She stopped moving when she felt the water lapping at her feet. There was nowhere to go.

  She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She’d sworn never to cower before a man ever again.

  He came to a halt in front of her, leaving only a gap between them small enough for a coin to drop through. He handed her the robe. “Cover yourself.” He turned away from her and began walking back toward her spot under the trees. He called over his shoulder, “You and I are going to have a little chat. Only then will I decide what I shall tell Christian.”

  Her stomach plummeted to her feet. She realized without a doubt that Sebastian knew the truth. He had remembered who she was.

  She walked back up the beach as if walking up the steps of the gallows. She was stupid to have thought she’d ever escape her punishment. This was it—if he knew about her husband’s death, he’d see her arrested.

  He indicated for her to sit on the blanket. He remained standing, leaning against the tree.

  “Why don’t you start by tellin
g me how you managed to escape the clutches of an animal such as Peter Dennett?”

  She looked up in surprise. “Most people thought my husband was a fine gentleman.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “His brother may be a marquis, but he’s a pig of a man, nothing less than a bully and a sadistic reprobate.” Then his expression shifted. “Hold on. What did you say? I beg your pardon—was?” He straightened. “Are you telling me Peter Dennett’s dead? No one on the island has heard this news.”

  “Then I’d like it to stay that way.”

  “Why?”

  She buried her head in her hands and felt the nausea well up her throat. “Because I—I killed him,” she sobbed. “I swear to you it was in self-defense.”

  His face paled under its tan. Without hesitation, he replied, “I’ve no doubt.” He dropped down to his knees in the sand before her and gently pulled her hands away from her face. “Tell me.” He wiped away a tear. “Tell me what happened. I know what Peter liked to do to women. I witnessed one particular episode. His cruelty saw him banned from every high-class brothel from London to the Americas.” He turned her round slowly until he could reach her back. He pulled her robe and shift partway off her shoulders, as if already knowing what he’d find. He cursed under his breath. “Does Christian know?”

  She pulled her robe back up and swiveled to face him. “He knows Mr. Cooper mistreated me. Nothing more! You haven’t even asked me why I killed him.”

  Sebastian waved a hand in dismissal. “I know why. Peter was evil.” He eyed her knowingly. “I’m sure a whipping was not the worst he did to you, was it?”

  She could only shake her head.

  “What about your father, Lady Serena? Why didn’t you go to the Duke for help? Christian would take you to him. No one would fault you for killing in self-defense. Not when the Duke of Hastings is your father. He surely would not allow any man to treat his daughter this way.”

  She looked up with a wry grimace. “He knew what Peter was like. He just didn’t care. Peter offered to cover his debts in exchange for the honor of marrying his daughter. My father had huge gambling debts, and Peter …” Her voice sounded small. “Peter was clever. He only paid my father enough to keep his head above water. I was nothing more than a commodity to my father. Shortly after our marriage, when I wrote him a letter complaining of Peter’s treatment, he told me I had made a vow before God and that I should honor and obey it.” Her body shook uncontrollably. “God! I’m sure the games Peter forced me to play would have had God wanting me to escape his clutches, not to become a slave for Peter’s depraved amusements.”

  Sebastian ran a hand through his hair. “Christ.” He stood once more and began to pace. “I certainly understand why you went to Christian for help. He’s the most honorable man I know. He has a reputation for protecting the underdog, the underprivileged, and those who are bullied. He must have welcomed you with open arms.” He gave her a wicked smile that knocked her breath from her lips. “For several reasons.”

  Rather primly she stated, “I didn’t seek him out for help. He doesn’t know who I am. He hired me to be Lily’s governess. With the help of Zachary, one of Peter’s slaves, I escaped north to Canada. I needed employment, and Lord Markham advertised for a governess who wished to live quietly in Dorset. I simply thought it would be a great place to hide.”

  “So you’re not using Christian to fight your battles.”

  Her hand flew to her chest. “No! I don’t want him involved. If they find me and think he’s been aiding me …”

  “You haven’t told him any of this? He really thinks you’re Mrs. Sarah Cooper?” He stopped pacing and looked at her for several moments. “I believe that you acted in self-defense. Besides, you’re good for Christian. Not since Waterloo have I seen him this happy. Between ourselves, since his injury at Waterloo, I have been scared he was losing the will to live.”

  Without thinking, she said, “We’re good for each other. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to …” She looked away, blushing, and swallowed hard.

  “You can trust Christian. Don’t listen to what anyone else might say. He’d never hurt a woman. He’d never, ever hurt you.”

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He placed a sisterly kiss on her forehead. “Go up to the house. I’ll keep your secret. However, I feel it best that we convince Christian to set sail for England as soon as possible.”

  She nodded in agreement. “But how? What are you going to do?”

  Sebastian hesitated for a second. “Well, I’m not going to tell Christian. You will.” As she started to protest, he held up his hand. “When the time is right. You’ll know when that is. But you need to leave the island before anyone recognizes you. When I was in town today, seeking information, no one had heard of a Mr. Cooper with a beautiful bride, but some mentioned that the lady I described was similar to Lady Serena Castleton, Mr. Peter Dennett’s wife.”

  She shrugged and looked down. “I kind of implied to Christian that Serena had died. If he hears differently …”

  “It won’t take long before Christian hears and guesses who you are.” If Sebastian hadn’t been holding her arm, Sarah would have hit the sand when her legs buckled at what he had just said. “And believe me, Christian will demand to help you. Did he tell you how his mother died?”

  She shook her head. “He told me she died when he was six.”

  “She died at the hands of his father. Christian has spent his life fighting those who use their power to corrupt, bully, or abuse. He will stand by your side on this. It will become personal to him. He couldn’t save his mother, but he’ll want to ensure he can save you.”

  She wanted to sink onto the sand and never get up. She couldn’t put Christian in that situation. He barely knew her. Besides, she could never tell Christian what Peter had made her do. If Christian knew about the things she’d done, he might think differently about her—about saving her. Could he understand why she’d had no choice but to comply? Would he forgive her? Respect her?

  “I can’t ask that of him. It will ruin his life. You know the men of the nobility would never condone a wife raising her hand against her husband. It will be my husband’s overseer’s word against mine. No one will speak up on my behalf. Those who know what Peter did to me will be too scared of the repercussions to speak out. Who would believe the words of a slave? No one, not even my own father, will believe the tales I have to tell. If I even have the courage to tell them, that is. Either way I can’t win. Lord Markham would be ostracized for supporting a wicked woman such as me, and if the Duke of Barforte came forward and openly accused him of Harriet’s rape …”

  Sebastian placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his steady gaze. “If Christian learns the truth, you’ll have no choice. Due to his past, he will see it as a just crusade. He will want to protect you.”

  She stepped back out of his reach. “Then he can never know.” Her voice shook with passion. “You must give me your word as a gentleman that he will not learn the truth about who I am from you.”

  Sebastian’s lips thinned and drew taut. Sarah could see his inner battle. He didn’t like the position she was putting him in. He would have to keep a confidence from his best friend, one Sebastian was aware Christian would wish to know. He ran a hand through his hair.

  The harshness left Sebastian’s eyes, replaced now with pity. Sarah could not hold his gaze, shame making her feel as small as a grain of the white sand beneath her feet.

  “No wonder Christian is drawn to you. The two of you have a lot in common,” he whispered under his breath. He shook his head. “I shall keep your secret. Marriage to a man like Peter Dennett has seen you suffer enough. But I ask something in return. If they find you, if you are ever arrested or in trouble, and if you won’t let Christian help you, then you must send word to me. I would be honored to speak in your defense and to help you in any way I can.”

  A wave of warmth stronger than the sun above swept over her wet body. “So
your reputation as a coldhearted rake bent only on his own pleasure is a cover for the compassionate man beneath.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I will remember your kind offer and call on you if I have need of help.”

  “Go before I show my true colors and throw you on the sand and ravish you. I only have so much honor in me.” He gave her a slight push toward the path up to Roaring Pavilions. “I’ll think of something to get Christian to sail as soon as is humanly possible. Go! He’ll be back soon. He stayed in town to see that a message to Viscount Blackwood caught the next ship.”

  Sarah started for the path, then quickly turned back and said, “I won’t forget your kindness. You’re a good man. Thank you.”

  Sebastian’s faced turned red. “Don’t thank me yet. I still have to get you off this island without being discovered.” He gave her a seductive grin. “Any man who has had the privilege of gazing upon your beauty would never forget who you are.” And just like that, the handsome rake was back. “I envy Christian.”

  Sarah actually giggled as she raced up the path toward the house.

  Standing off to the side of the track, Christian couldn’t take his eyes off the beauty racing toward him. Her feet were bare, her hair was flowing out behind her, and he could hear her giggling. God, how he wanted her.

  He’d hide in the bushes, jump out, sweep her into his arms, carry her to her bedchamber, and worship her body with his mouth. It was more for him than her. His need to taste her was like a drug.

  Christian was just about to jump in front of Sarah and catch her up in his arms when a movement on the beach below stopped him.

  Sebastian.

  Sebastian was walking toward the sea without a stitch of clothing on. If Sarah turned around she’d see him naked.

  Wait. But Sarah had just been on that beach.

  On the beach alone with Sebastian—in a state of undress!

  As if he were a character in a Brothers Grimm fairy tale, his body turned to stone from the shock. The cold started at his feet, and icy tentacles swept up his body until he couldn’t move, crushing his chest under the weight of betrayal.