TemptressofTime

by Dee Brice

  “Will you? Then prepare yourself, my lady, to spend the rest of our lives in this sweet bower. Freed only to relieve yourself. Food given only by my hand. Drink as well. No privacy to hide within. No time to think beyond your next climax. Will I bring you fast or slow? Will I lick you, kiss you, sip your nectar until you beg me to fuck you? But alas, I promised I would only kiss you. So our fucking becomes impossible—a torment forever unsatisfied.”

  “J-Jason will… No, he has no reason to rescue me, but—”

  “For Jason, you are the forbidden fruit, the golden fleece, the rarest coin he can but strive to hold for an instant. Walker? Yes, Walker would rescue you and fuck you whenever and wherever you wish. His prize? An heir…should you both prove fertile in this time and place.”

  Jutting her chin in the direction of Adrian’s voice, she said, “I liked you better when you loved your brother’s mistresses.”

  “Loved Monday through Saturday?”

  She imagined him shaking his head, denial on his face and in his eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t loved the women to the depths of his heart and soul, but he had more than loved their children. And he’d loved William too. Perhaps even more than the other children because William—who no man claimed as his—had only himself to rely on.

  “I have only truly loved one woman,” he admitted, his voice a caress along her flesh. His body heat warmed her as he stretched out next to her. “She betrayed me twice, giving herself to my friend and liege.”

  Which made sense in a convoluted way, although doing little to minimize his guilt for mistreating her in those past lives. Marrying her to keep her dowry. Dumping her off his horse. Which, no doubt, was exactly how he meant her to feel. Which meant things could get really nasty very soon.

  Think, Diane, think.

  “This…my being tied and blindfolded is not how I pictured our time together,” she told him, striving to keep panic from her voice. Neither Walker nor Jason would look for her until Friday—two days in which Adrian would do with and to her whatever he wanted.

  “How did you picture our time together? Polite conversation over tea and cucumber sandwiches? Like brother and sister?”

  “Wh-what?” she stuttered, her lungs unable to draw air for anything more.

  “Isn’t that how you see me, Diane? A brother or, perhaps, a distant cousin. A kissing cousin.”

  She shook her head. Realizing he might be looking elsewhere, she said, “I did envision us talking. Touching a little. Kissing…a lot. I more than enjoy your kisses, Adrian.”

  “Just not as much as Walker’s.”

  Out of patience, she swore, certain the air turned blue with her foul language. “If you were so jealous of Walker why—why didn’t you do something about it then?”

  “When? Whilst I owed him fealty and he could have killed or exiled me? Left you a widow a second time? Or while he had every right as your protector to use you however he wished? I could but hope you realized how much I loved you.”

  “You had a strange way of showing me. In both lives willing to share me. I don’t remember much of what happened in that first life, but I sensed that in each of you. And you did share me when Henry granted you permission.” Or was she rationalizing to excuse her wanton behavior?

  “Sharing me again, here,” she added, not willing to let him off the hook for their past lives.

  Adrian’s soft laugh raised gooseflesh all over her body. “Here, we haven’t shared you at all. Is that what you want, Diane? Walker and me having you at the same time? One in your arse, the other in your cunt?” He laughed again, a somewhat lighter sound, but still full of suppressed resentment. “And what of Jason? Where would you put him should we all share you at the same time?”

  Having written just such a scene, she knew what to do with Jason. Since the occasion would never arrive here, she kept her mouth shut. Long enough to draw a deep breath then ask, “What could I have done to prevent your sharing me with Walker?”

  The cushion shifted as he sat. He lifted a strand of her hair, stroked it over her face and neck, her chest and breasts. For once her body didn’t respond. Good! In this situation, with all the anger and animosity between them, she shouldn’t respond.

  So why did she feel so sad?

  “You could have told him no.”

  “I-I didn’t know I had that power. Walker was as much my liege as yours.”

  Adrian’s soft chuckle sounded more normal and some of the tension eased from her neck and shoulders.

  “Perhaps refusal wouldn’t have stopped him, but we’d have stood together. That might have made a difference.” A gentle kiss on her cheeks relaxed her a little more.

  “So Walker’s actions were my fault?”

  “You wanted him. Since your parents pledged you to Arnaud—despite your winning every point in your marriage settlement—you wanted revenge. You got it.”

  She silently chewed on that for a while. “You know my jealousy played a role in that farce.”

  “Looking back, I understand why you disliked the idea of your husband having mistresses. Which allows me to understand your reluctance to become one in our second life together.”

  She laughed and, discovering he’d freed her hands, reached out to touch his face. Encountering his naked chest, she left her hand over his heart. “For all I know, you and Arnaud could have shared them. For all I know, you could have kept them despite my—your wife’s objections.” Would she have forced him to send them away as Diane de Vesay had in that earlier life?

  She felt him shrug. “As to that…I did keep them.”

  “Because you loved them,” she insisted, wondering why it mattered if he admitted or denied it now. That time was over. She hoped. “Admit it, Adrian. You loved each and every one of them.”

  “I may have. A little.” He drew a deep breath, exhaled it along her neck. “I justified it to myself, thinking I gave them affection you didn’t want.”

  A strangled sound—half sob, half laugh—escaped her lips. “I don’t know how you could have loved me—her. That other Diane. She was—”

  “Imperious. Self-centered. Vain and willful. She—you also had the most glorious laugh, the most beautiful green eyes, the most luscious body a man—I had ever heard or seen. I may not have liked you, Diane, but I loved you in all the ways that mattered.”

  “You lusted for me.” So did Walker.

  “Still do.”

  He slid her open hand down his chest to his cock. His very long, thick and hard cock. As she curled her fingers around him, he untied the cravat that had kept her sightless. Seeing the contrast of her pale fingers surrounding his reddish, golden-brown erection awakened her lust.

  Leaning over, she ran her tongue around his glans, then licked precum from his slit. He sucked in a breath, released it on a hiss. Encouraged, she took him into her mouth, making gobbling noises like a woman starving for food. That had them both laughing. When he flipped her to her back, she squealed, then sighed as he lapped her from clit to channel and back.

  Lost in his musky scent, his slightly salty taste and the pleasure sounds he made as she sucked and licked, she forgot anger and resentment. Almost forgot how to breathe. Went cross-eyed when her climax ripped through her. Needing stability in a spinning vortex, she dug her nails into his thighs and sucked harder as he erupted deep in her throat.

  When she recovered enough to move, she sat up, pulling her chemise over her breasts and knees. Adrian retrieved his shirt and donned it, eschewing smallclothes and breeches. His billowing shirt hung halfway down his thighs, making her marvel at how smooth his breeches fit despite the voluminous fabric beneath. Perhaps his valet bundled the material to Adrian’s backside and hid it under his coattails.

  “Are you warm enough?” he asked, sounding as polite as a stranger standing with her on a terrace outside a ballroom.

  “I’d appreciate sharing your body heat.” His arm circling her, she leaned into his warm. “I’d also like to talk more about our previous lives. I—”
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  “Sunday,” he said, kissing her until she forgot everything but the demands of her body and how well he could meet them.

  * * * * *

  Friday morning

  Her truncated conversation with Adrian disturbed her sleep and, no doubt, his as well. In all probability that was why she’d awakened alone. Either that or he wanted to avoid meeting Jason and had left early enough to ensure it.

  What she couldn’t avoid was thinking about how she felt about her men.

  Her men. That alone said a lot about her feelings for them. What she would do if they demanded she pick one, she couldn’t say. She liked them both in very different ways.

  Adrian still reminded her of the boy next door in his openness. He also seemed determined to see his woman happy. And even though she hadn’t been around while his niece and nephews were growing up, she knew he was a loving and devoted uncle. She doubted that would change—even in her modern world. But had he taken one or more of the Days to his bed? Did she really want to remember if he had? Remember how his wife might have punished him? That woman was a shrew, unlikable in any manner. Or perhaps, like her modern self, merely frightened of being at men’s mercy?

  Fidelity doubts raised warning flags, despite believing he’d not followed in Arnaud’s footsteps and had had multiple mistresses. What about one mistress? What about her as his one and only mistress?

  Wednesday’s encounter revealed he also had a dark side. Kind of scary and exciting at the same time.

  As for Walker…he confused her more and more. The days they’d spent together alone had exposed facets of his personality she hadn’t expected. She’d thought him incapable of relaxing, of lowering his guard enough to tease. He’d be strict with his children while loving them with all his heart, no matter where or when he lived.

  Of the two, he’d be more difficult to live with. Moody. Given to introspection more than reaching out. Expecting others to live up to his expectations.

  Gee, Di, recognize anybody else in that description?

  Okay, put aside all that intellectual bull—balderdash. How do I feel about them?

  Margaret all but danced into Diane’s sitting room. Holding out a wide-brimmed straw bonnet, she announced Jason awaited below.

  Shoving aside her worries about Walker and Adrian, Diane donned her hat and draped a paisley shawl over her arm. Just in case the weather changed.

  But when she stood at the top of her marble staircase, looking down at Lord Jason Leveson’s admiring expression, those feelings she’d tried to shove aside smacked her right in her heart.

  She loved both Walker and Adrian and nothing—not even mind-blowing sex with anyone else—would ever change that.

  “Since the day is fine,” Jason greeted as she descended the curving marble stairs to the ground floor, “I thought we might enjoy your folly.”

  Folly? Oh yes, her folly of having sex with two men and anticipating adding a third. When they all came together on Sunday— Came together? She shoved wanton images of them all naked on her bed. Sunday, they could heap recriminations on each other’s heads, but at least she’d learn more about why this traveling through time had happened. And, hopefully, discover how to get home.

  “‘Tis some distance away,” Jason went on, drawing her into the moment. “I took the liberty of ordering a pony cart.”

  “Oh,” she muttered, “that folly.”

  His melt-her-clothes-off gaze suggested he knew what other kind of folly she’d thought he meant.

  “Shall we?” Offering his arm, he opened the door to bright sunlight that made her blink. “Your parasol awaits,” he told her as he guided her to the cart then assisted her into it. His fingertips brushed hers as he transferred the open parasol to her. Her hands tingled, making her wish she’d worn gloves. Which she would likely lose before the day ended. She doubted other men Jason’s age would have thought of opening the umbrella for her. Which led her to wonder what other adult activities he might surprise her with.

  “You needn’t try so hard, Lord Leveson. The same rules apply to you as to the duke and earl.”

  “Since they have known you longer, I feel I must do more to ensure you remember me.”

  “Does that mean I might forget our acquaintance when I return to my own time?”

  His charming smile scolded her obvious ploy to pump him for information. Clucking to the horse, he set them on their way, affording her a view of his profile. She found it as attractive as the rest of him and wondered if he’d let her make a shadow portrait of him.

  On a silent huff, she wished she knew how she knew certain customs of the time—like shadow portraits—existed, yet didn’t know if she could properly ask him to sit for one. She wanted to question him about so many things, but suspected he wouldn’t answer. Which would fuel her frustration and ruin a lovely day. In truth, she wondered what he had planned to ensure she remembered him always.

  “Do you reside in London?” she asked, cross with herself for the question’s phrasing. Yes or no wouldn’t tell her one thing more.

  Jason, however, gave a complete and forthright answer. “I prefer the country. My older brother, however, believes every gentleman should have at least one London season before rusticating for the rest of his life.”

  “An interesting turn of phrase. I hadn’t heard of gentlemen having seasons. Fortunate for you, the ton doesn’t count the number of seasons a gentleman has.”

  “How many had you?” His cheeks flushed as if he belatedly realized how rude the question sounded. Yet he continued to meet her gaze. “Not more than two, if that. I wager you were proclaimed an Incomparable from the outset. Had men falling at your feet.”

  “Only at the feet of my fortune,” she told him, uncertain about her own certainty regarding her fortune’s attraction. “My suitors didn’t know I would control my funds and properties even after marriage.”

  Poor dead David hadn’t known that marrying him had given her control of her assets several years before anyone had envisioned. Her marriage had also given her the freedom to live as she pleased. Rusticating in the country while David had his London season. Just how she knew all that she didn’t know. It somehow didn’t seem to matter.

  “Walker and Adrian did not pursue you?”

  She shook her head, unable to recall anything more about her season or her men. Selective memory might serve the men’s purposes, but did nothing at all for hers.

  “’Round this curve you’ll catch the first glimpse of the folly,” Jason said as if she had never been there before. Which she might not have while that other Diane…

  “Holy shit!” she muttered, unable to hold it back. “The damn thing looks like a…a giant phallus!”

  As they drew nearer, the tumble of rocks at the folly’s base began to resemble enormous testicles. She wanted to laugh, but knew she’d sound hysterical and might never stop laughing.

  “Who-who would build such a monstrosity?”

  Helping her from the cart, Jason tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. He leaned under the rim of her parasol and whispered, “You did, Diane. You had it erected after your husband died.”

  His soulful brown eyes filled with mirth, he led her around the base to a set of stairs. By the time they reached the top she was weak-kneed and breathless. She bit her lips, puzzled that anyone would pay to have this monstrous structure built in such a short time. Surely she hadn’t meant it as a tribute to her dead husband? Or had she? Maybe the phallus was more like a giant middle finger flipping him the bird.

  Jason produced an ornate brass key from his waistcoat pocket. Preceding her inside, he held the door open, his eyes shining with amusement and something more she couldn’t define. She glanced around, noting ornate screens of Asian design—most likely from China since the English were fascinated with the area and had brought back many souvenirs, including opium. Black lacquer furniture overlaid with gold accents further accented with fabrics in red, turquoise and bright-green silk.

  When Jason c
leared his throat she looked at him, noticing for the first time that the folly’s walls narrowed as they rose. She thought of button mushrooms with their bases capped by wide umbrellas. Or, she amended, looking up and up and up, like a man’s glans topping his shaft.

  The interior walls grew pinker as they rose—as if blood flowed through the strips of glass that resembled the veins in a man’s penis. Strips that filled with what looked like…

  “Tinted water, milady, only that,” Jason assured her, holding out his hand, taking hers when she was near enough. “You’re trembling. Not from fear of me, I hope.”

  “I’m overwhelmed. I never imagined anything like this.” She gestured at their surroundings. “It’s amazing and beautiful—in a grotesque sort of way.”

  Laughing, Jason guided her around a lacquered screen with ornate, carved dragons outlined in gold. Red silk backed it, preventing anyone from peering through. What lay behind it stole her breath.

  Steam rose from a stone pool. An elusive aroma scented the air, beckoning her to draw closer. What combination of oils had given it its unique scent? The pool’s wide rim led to another stone pool and from there to an enormous bed. Carved dragons supported a crimson, gold and green canopy.

  Gesturing at the pools, she said, “Those seem more suited to Japan, the rest more to China.”

  “Does it matter?” he asked, his hands cupping her shoulders. With a gentle tug he brought her back against his front. His erection pulsed along her spine. Shivers raced over her entire body.

  “J-Jason, I d-don’t think I can do this.”

  “Take a bath? Sleep for a while? Eat and then sleep again?”

  She laughed—a nervous short-lived sound. “Is that all you want of me, Jason? That I bathe—”

  “And sleep and eat with me, yes. Whatever else we might do is up to you.” He pressed a soft kiss on her nape.

  “Even if I can’t bring myself to kiss you?”

  His chuckle vibrated along her neck and stirred a need she’d thought Walker and Adrian had met…and met until she wanted, craved nothing more. “If you keep your eyes closed, Diane, you won’t see how young I am. Which, I assure you, is nowhere near as young as you think me.”