He quickly followed her to bliss. A loud roar reverberated around her as he arched frantically, holding her tightly upon him, calling out her name as his seed flooded deep within her.
When Christian could finally breathe again, he pulled her down into his arms and hugged her tightly, showering the top of her head with little kisses. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You’re much too tempting to simply lie back and not participate.”
“I’m not complaining.”
He stroked down the small of her back. “That was amazing.”
Sarah pushed out of his hold. She stared down at the utterly tempting, devilishly handsome man who’d just made magical love to her. “That’s an understatement.” She beamed at him. “I can’t explain how wonderful it felt to be in your arms.” She hesitated before saying, “I know it’s not always like that. What we shared was special. Well, special to me, anyway.”
He stroked her hair and squeezed her tighter. “You’re special.” To have overcome a brutal husband and have the courage to let another man bed her was astonishing. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting in me.”
Sarah tilted her head sideways so she could see his face. Without all the formal clothing, his black locks tousled against the white pillow slip, his disfigured cheek visible in the weak moonlight, he did look menacing; however, he was anything but. She swept her gaze over his lean body and, without thinking, reached and touched his scars. He flinched beneath her touch.
“I hate to think of you in pain,” she whispered.
“That’s the one saving grace about pain. The memory dulls it. Oh, I can still vividly recall going out of my mind from the agony, but I can’t actually remember what the pain felt like. Not that I try to relive that day; my nightmares do that often enough, and I can never escape in my dreams.”
She continued to caress him, willing the ugly memories away. “Do you think the nightmares will ever end?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps they will fade with time. I’ve gotten used to them.” He spoke so matter-of-factly, she wondered at the calm behind his words.
“Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened?”
“Talking won’t change the outcome.”
“But it might help. It might stop the nightmares.”
“Grayson knows. He was there. He saved me. If it hadn’t been for him …”
“How did he rescue you? What did he do?” She could tell he didn’t want to relive the day, but it might help him to let it out.
“As the wagon collapsed, Grayson fell, knocking himself out. I was trapped beneath and at the mercy of a revenge-filled Frenchwoman. My inhumane howls managed to pierce Grayson’s dead sleep. He awoke and threw his coat over my burning skin, freed my hand, and then had to try and save me from my injuries. A friend who lay all but dead in his arms. Simply putting out the flames only began my battle to survive.”
Sarah tried to repress her shudder. The pain would have killed a weaker man. “Who helped you recuperate?”
He shifted restlessly. “I had Roberts and the rest of the staff.”
“You didn’t have anyone special?”
He turned to look at her as if she were asking a ridiculous question. “No.” His tone was harsh. He blinked and looked away. He looked out the window at the still night. “There was no one. My mistress thought I was going to die, so she found another benefactor as quickly as possible. Eloisa was not the type to hold anyone’s hand. A man’s wallet was of more interest to her.”
“I can’t understand what men find so pleasing in such an arrangement.”
He stared at her for ages before he said, “Having met you, I don’t either. I could never go back to that sort of paid arrangement.”
“I would have never left your side if I’d been there.” Sarah bristled with anger. Who could abandon a man as good and as kind as Christian when he was so badly wounded? Christian would never have left Eloisa if she’d needed help. It was startling to realize that she had known him a short while, yet it felt like she’d known him all her life. She understood the essence of the man, and a part of her wanted to tell him the truth. She should confess her sins and rely on his sense of gentlemanly honor to provide a haven for her. But doing that would be selfish. It would cause him distress. Besides, she’d accepted her lot. He would lose more than his position in society for trying to help her. He needed to truthfully state he had no idea who she really was. She would not make him an accessory to murder. Not when he was already under suspicion for a heinous crime himself.
Besides, there was nothing he could do for her that he wasn’t already doing, be it without his knowledge.
He was already protecting her by giving her a job and taking her home to England. She was clothed, fed, housed, and respected. She’d found a place where she could belong. He was already helping her overcome the nightmare of the last two years, by teaching her about goodness, trust, real passion, and pleasure.
The pain deep in her chest was more to do with unattainable opportunities. As Lady Serena Castleton, she could have been more than a short-term affair to a man such as this. She could have become his wife, a mother to his children, a true lover. Now she could be nothing more than a temporary paramour. He would move on and eventually marry. She would have to stand by and watch. As long as he was happy, she could bear it.
He noticed her sudden silence. Rolling to the side of the bed, he stood and collected his clothes. “It’s late and we’re sailing tomorrow. I’d best let you get some sleep.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for a very special night. I look forward to many more.”
“Remember, it’s only until we reach England. I’ll hold you to your promise.” She thought she glimpsed a defiant look in his eyes, but it was so fleeting she couldn’t quite understand its implication. She didn’t want to ruin this night. “Until England,” she repeated.
He continued dressing in silence. She watched the moonlight dance over his magnificent body, and her heart gave a lurch as she recognized the sensations his body aroused in her: protection, fierce loyalty, desire, and—far worse—love. She wanted to love this man. She wanted to be free to love him and to show him he might be damaged on the outside, but inside he was beautiful beyond words.
But that was a dream that could never come true. This was her punishment for her sins: to find the man of her dreams and to be unable to ever acknowledge him.
Once he was fully dressed, he moved to the door. With his back to her and his hand on the latch, he said quietly, “A part of me wants to be in England tomorrow, so that I may stop this nonsense with Harriet and get on with my life. But devil take me, a part of me would sail around the world for eternity to keep you with me.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. For once she was speechless. Pleasure and warmth radiated through her, but by the time she found her tongue he was gone.
She lay back and stared with deep sorrow at the ceiling. It was probably just as well. For what could she say to a man who, through circumstances beyond their control, could never truly be hers?
Chapter Thirteen
Plymouth, England, June 1816
They were home.
It was still nighttime when she woke. Sarah drifted back to awareness, still exhausted from their urgent lovemaking. Christian had made love to her over and over again through the night, their desperation growing with each caress and kiss, knowing this would be their last night together. The ship barely rocked. They were no longer in open sea. She knew they’d docked at Plymouth sometime around midnight.
Her time as Christian’s lover was at an end.
She listened to the soothing rhythm of his soft, deep breathing and turned her head on the pillow, gazing for a long moment at the wonderful man sleeping beside her. She wanted to paint this moment in her memory so she’d never forget his kindness, goodness, and gentleness.
Christian.
She knew she’d never stop thinking about his touch, his smell, the sinful words and sounds he made as he thoroughl
y loved her. She lay still, desperate to soak in the contentment filling her, yet at the same time needing to loosen the connection to him, so she could walk away without completely dying inside.
A tender smile played at her lips as she studied him. He’d hogged most of the small bunk, as usual, almost pushing her onto the cabin floor. She didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to lie close to him, to hug close to his warmth.
Christian slept on his stomach, facing her, his hand resting possessively on her breast, the sheets tangled loosely around his long, muscular legs. His dark hair fanned across his cheek, hiding his scars and highlighting his remaining facial beauty. Her eyes drank in the rest of him. Every time she saw the burn marks flowing over his bare back she wanted to stroke and soothe. But she didn’t want to wake him just yet. She let a wistful sigh escape her.
It was hard not to touch him when she knew the velvet warmth of his skin and the safety of his embrace. Even if she was no longer his lover, he would always protect her. She loved him even more for that.
She should go back to her cabin and get ready to start her new life. She should go before he woke. He would try to stop her, try to talk her into continuing their relationship, and God help her, she could so easily cave in to his persuasion. How could she walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to her? How could she walk away from true love?
She inwardly gritted her teeth and called on the strength of her willpower. The longer she lingered, the greater the chance he would wake, and she couldn’t take a scene. Raising herself up gingerly from the mattress, she tried to slip away from under his hand. Unfortunately, he moved and his fingers curled in her hair, stopping her from standing. She lay back down.
Now what? She turned her head to examine how best to free herself, but met his open, piercing emerald eyes. The sinfully black and enticing lashes gave him a sultry look. A look she could have done without.
A sleepy yet invigorated voice said, “Don’t go! This doesn’t have to end.”
“You know as well as I that it does.”
Christian flinched at her soft yet firm response. His heart beat erratically, his body tense. He was not quite sure what was happening to him. He sat up and stared out of the porthole at the Plymouth dock. Dawn was about to break. They’d arrived in England late last night, too late to disembark. He was pleased, for it gave him one more night with Sarah. It was an unforgettable night, a night he never wanted to end.
He should be thrilled at being able to walk on English soil at long last and confront his nemesis. He needed to work out who had defamed him and why he’d spent so many months in purgatory. But instead, all he could think about was the warm body lying in this bunk beside him.
She sat up beside him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “The voyage home—that was our deal, you recall. We both know I cannot be Lily’s governess and your lover. You took on the role of Lily’s guardian. Her name is now linked with yours. Any scandal surrounding you will affect Lily. We must put her first.”
Deep down inside he knew Sarah was right. Yet he wanted to keep her, no matter what. Society be damned! He was a recluse as it was. Although he was an earl, the only women he’d find willing to marry him would certainly only be after his title and fortune. Having had a taste of pure, unselfish giving, he could no longer settle for less. Sarah gave herself to him for no other reason than that it was her heart’s desire. She wanted him—only him—scars and all. She had become his lover, expecting nothing from him but pleasure.
She deserved so much more than to spend her life as a governess. She was beautiful, witty, charming. But for the happenstance of her birth, she would have been a leader among the women of the ton. Men would flock to her beauty, and the women to her kindness and generosity of spirit.
He looked over his shoulder. “You could marry me.” The words flowed from his mouth before he had the sense to understand what his declaration meant. She’d told him countless times she feared matrimony and the power it would give someone over her.
If he needed further proof of her selfless, giving nature, he had it. Her look of astonished expression faded to a gaze of guarded tenderness.
She shook her head. “If only I could!” was her anguished reply.
“There is nothing to stop you from marrying me.” He paused. “Unless you’d be embarrassed to be seen by my side.”
She flinched at his words and dropped her gaze to the rumpled bedsheets. “Don’t be ridiculous. I simply mean that an earl cannot marry his ward’s governess. It’s not done.” Her voice seemed strained.
“I’ve never been surer of anything.” He raised her chin with his finger and searched her face. “Sarah Cooper, for the first time in my life, I feel I’m seeing life clearly. I know that what we share is special. This type of … friendship doesn’t happen to everyone. I want to embrace it. Nothing is more important to me than you. Nothing!”
“You say that now, but once you are home, will you change your mind? You’re not thinking clearly. We have had a passionate few weeks. I’m not sure which part of your anatomy is making this life-changing decision. Given time, you may find a woman of your own social standing more appropriate. I’d hate to see you trapped by your honor. I know you. Once your promise is given, you’ll not renege on it.”
He caressed her face with his fingertips, emotion choking him. “This is much more than a whim to me now, or even a matter of honor. I won’t want to renege.”
“I’m touched.” She placed his hand over her heart. “It’s enough that you would offer marriage, that you’d want me to be your wife, when I come to you with nothing of value.”
“I value you.”
She shook her head. “I’m a governess. You should be marrying a lady. Society will pity you and laugh behind your back, and I know what a proud man you are.”
“Who’s to know you’re a governess? I can say I met the delicious Mrs. Cooper in Canada. Nobody needs to learn I met you because you applied for a job in my household.” He grew a tad wary as her eyes flared with panic at this.
“But what if they find out I grew up in the Duke of Hastings’s household?”
“Being with you, sharing the last few weeks together, I’m positive there is more to your birth than you know.”
She gasped.
“Could it not be possible that you are, in fact, the Duke’s daughter?”
“Serena is gone.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I mean illegitimate daughter. Why else would a duke allow a gardener’s child to befriend his daughter? The Duke of Hastings is not known for his sentimental nature.”
She looked away and in a whisper said, “If that is the case, it would be even more inappropriate for you to offer marriage.”
“Not if I could persuade the Duke to recognize you.”
“No!” Her anguished cry startled him. She scrambled out of bed and began dressing. “Even if it were true, I could not do that to my mother, the woman who raised me. Perhaps once she dies I could think about it.…”
Puzzled, he tried to read her expression. She was hiding something. She was afraid of something. “This isn’t about being owned, is it? I had hoped that you’d learned to trust me and to know I’d never hurt you.”
She halted in her dressing and pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. “I do know that. I know the honorable man you are, and I’m so proud and flattered by your offer. But now that we are back on English soil I must put your needs first. You have troubles enough without an unknown woman, from a humble background, appearing as your wife.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, gazing into those magnificent blue eyes. Standing, he took her beloved face into his hands. He kissed her with a sudden aching ardor. For, whether she was ready or not, and by any means he could, Christian Trent knew he would make Sarah his wife.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world,” she answered, her eyes welling with tears. “Let me do what I feel is right. Please.”
He gave a shudd
ering sigh. Tears were Sarah’s true weapon. He hated to see her cry. “I can’t bear to let us go. To see you every day, yet not be able to hold you, smile at you, touch you, love you … Won’t you at least consider becoming my wife? Would it be so terrible if society shunned us? We’d have each other and our children. When I was fighting at Waterloo, all I could think about was surviving and begetting an heir. Now all I can think about is having a child who looks like you—boy or girl, it would make no difference.”
She cupped his cheek softly and smiled. “Oh, Christian, you are such a good man! I—I am so lucky to have met you.” She almost said she loved him, but she feared he’d never take no for an answer if she declared what was in her heart.
How could she marry him when she’d make him a laughingstock if she were ever caught? If anyone discovered she was Lady Serena Castleton, she’d face the death penalty and he’d have married a woman branded a murderess. Worse, then he’d have to watch her hang. It would be better to break his heart now than lead him further toward scandal, ridicule, and ruination.
She breathed in rapidly, trying to quell the pain ricocheting around her body. Fate was a cruel master. Here she was, being offered something she’d dreamed of, a man she’d wanted all her adult life, and she had to say no, both for her sake and for his.
Her denial was a huge weight descending to crush her in her chest. “The sun’s almost up. I must get back to my cabin. We will talk of this no more. You are a man of your word, and you promised me that our relationship would revert to what was proper once we reached England. I expect you to keep your promise.”
His eyes flashed with determination and his chiseled jaw tightened. “I will honor your wish. We are no longer lovers. But I gave no promise about not wooing you. I once was considered quite the seducer.”
She gulped, realizing his words were true. He could make her want him with simply a smile. If he seriously courted her, how was she to resist him?
A Kiss of Lies Page 18
