The Thief and the Rogue

by Rachel Donnelly

  Her mouth dropped opened.

  Had she heard him correctly?

  He expected her to play the strumpet in payment for the stallion’s stud services.

  She stared back at him, cheeks ablaze, waiting for him to laugh—to confirm he jested.

  But he didn’t laugh. He just stood there, looking at her calmly, waiting for an answer.

  She turned away, limbs shaking, heart pounding wildly in her breast. Such an obscene proposal did not deserve an answer. How dare he!

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “What’s the matter Kay—afraid one night won’t be enough?”

  Her breath came hard.

  Her skin grew hot, not from the afternoon sun or her vigorous ride home, but the thought of his warm hands and smooth lips touching her again. The memory of what had happened in the narrow bunk on the ship came flooding back, so real, she could almost taste him. Her gaze dropped from his gold flecked eyes to his lips. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Oh, but I am.”

  Her body screamed yes—do it Kay. He’s your husband. There’s no shame in wanting him—grabbing a little ecstasy while you can. But in the end her mind won out. “No. No, it wouldn’t be right. How can you ask such a thing?”

  “You brought up the subject of breeding, madam.” A note of humor clung to his words. “I’m simply trying to accommodate you.”

  “By offering me unreasonable terms, you know I can’t accept?” She gave a huff of disgust then stalked past him toward the house.

  She was so intent on escaping him and the dangerous yearnings he’d churned up inside of her, she didn’t notice him following her until she had reached the foyer.

  “Come to my study.” His voice swung her around with a start. “We’ll discuss it.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss!” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “You’re not being reasonable.”

  “I’m not the one refusing to negotiate.”

  “There’s nothing to negotiate!”

  “Very well.” He shrugged. “I’ll be in my study if you change your mind.”

  She watched him mount the stairs with building frustration. He hadn’t even bothered to listen to her offer.

  Damn!

  She wanted that stallion.

  She needed him.

  There wasn’t a stud in all of England more perfect for her mares. She needed him in order to build a strong herd. It had long been her dream to produce the finest Arabs the country had to offer. And now, thanks to Hunter’s outrageous suggestion—his unreasonable demands, those dreams were fast slipping through her fingers.

  Well, if he wouldn’t accept money, perhaps he would accept something else. He had yet to hear what Charlie had to say about Herrington.

  With a firm set to her lips, she mounted the stairs.

  “Come in,” Hunter said, a note of surprise registering in his voice when he looked up from the papers on his desk to find her in the doorway. He lifted a dark brow. “Perhaps you should close the door.”

  After doing so, she came slowly forward to stand in front of the desk, twirling the emerald ring round her finger. The room smelt of leather, and cigars, and the salty tang of the ocean wafting in from the half-opened window. This was where her troubles had begun, in this very room. It seemed she’d come full circle. “I’ve come to make you an offer.”

  He leaned back in his chair, considering her for a long moment. “I’m listening.”

  “Information about Herrington, in exchange for your stud services.”

  “Well, that depends on the information, doesn’t it?” He cocked a lazy smile. “Wine?”

  “No thank you.”

  “You don’t mind if I have some?” He stood to pour a glass from the decanter on his desk. “Miska and I always drink when we’re dealing horseflesh.”

  “I’m not accustomed to horse trading,” she informed him in a prim voice. “But, I should think any bargain would benefit from a clear head.”

  He came around the desk toward her, glass in hand. “Miska has a way of making me forget that.” He chuckled, sending a shiver up her back. “Though I have to admit the bargaining is half the fun.”

  Kay shifted her stance, feeling at a disadvantage in her wind blown state, her blue riding habit crumpled and her hair threatening to escape its pins, while he appeared so calm and collected—so formal in his silver waistcoat and blue frock coat. She felt like a waif, blown in from the ocean.

  He sat on the edge of the desk, regarding her steadily, the muscles in thighs clearly defined against the thin buckskin of his breeches, his perfect red lips curled in a half smile.

  Realizing she was staring, Kay shifted her gaze to his gold eyes. “Do we have a deal or not?”

  “Ahh, yes.” He set down his glass, then leaned back, bracing both palms on the desk, bringing attention to the bulge where his legs met. “The information you agreed to get, then proceeded to use as unfair leverage.”

  “It wasn’t unfair!” Laud! That he could accuse her, after all that he’d done. “Why shouldn’t you show some leniency in my sentence, if I go above and beyond what we agreed upon?”

  He came to his feet. “Because we have a bargain.”

  She took a step back. “Bargains can be broken.”

  He grabbed her hand before she could turn away, saying in a soft voice, “But I’m not ready to let you go.”

  When he drew her into his arms, she didn’t resist. Too many nights spent dreaming of his touch had made her weak. It was where she wanted to be—next to the beat of his heart.

  He pressed his lips to her throat, placing small feathery kisses along her jaw until he reached her trembling lips. “You don’t really want to go, do you, Kay?”

  Though their lips barely touched, her pulse raced so fast it drummed in her ears. He hadn’t even kissed her, yet she could barely breathe. Her mind whirled with the many reasons why she shouldn’t, while her body shouted, yes!

  Do it!

  Love him while you can, before he’s lost to you forever.

  Her lips seemed to part of their own accord. When his tongue slid between them in a gentle caress, she moaned and leaned against him, threading her fingers through the silky curls at the back of his neck, the taste of wine on his hot tongue making her shudder.

  When she felt herself being lifted off the floor, it was too late to protest. There was no going back. Exquisite sensations rushed through her in a trickling path to her center. He laid her down on the leather sofa. Then with quick deaf movements, began plucking the pins from her hair. She could hear his breath coming fast and ragged against her ear, stirring her desire to a frenzied hum.

  “We’re going to do this slow this time,” he rasped. “I want to enjoy every inch of your luscious body.” His voice came husky and thick. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of this?”

  “You dream of me?”

  “All the time, gorgeous, all the time.”

  Fired by the heat in his tawny eyes, she fumbled to help him unbutton her jacket. By the time her riding habit lay in a heap on the floor, her whole body tingled up and down. She wanted him just as bare as she was. Caught up in the feverish anticipation of viewing his beautiful body again, she knelt on the cool leather sofa to unbutton his waistcoat.

  But he didn’t need her help. He was already fairly ripping the clothes from his body.

  She ran her hands down his smooth chest to the triangle of soft curls below his flat belly. As her hand closed around him, she marveled at the hardness beneath his velvety skin. He groaned and she felt him grow harder. She lifted her hand away. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Only my pride, for I fear I can’t wait.” He pushed her back gently onto the sofa, claiming her lips with a savage hunger that left her gasping. She writhed against him, pressing him closer, aching to feel him inside her. But when he said slow… he meant slow. He ran his hands lovingly down the length of her, over both of her breasts, down the insides of her thighs until she thought she’d die
or go mad from the want of him. All the while his hot mouth teased her, arousing every primitive response in her body. Her nipples grew so taunt she thought they might burst, and the throbbing ache between her thighs so urgent, it made her gasp and strain against him.

  When his hand brushed her thighs, she raised her hips to meet his stroking fingers, seeking release from the sweet tension curling inside her. She clung to his well muscled back as she whirled higher and higher, caught in a frenzied storm. When he moved his hand away, she almost sobbed with frustration, but she had no time to fall. He thrust inside her moist heat, whirling her higher and higher. Her body tightened around him, shooting her up and up and up, to an explosive climax, so complete, her legs shook from the force of it.

  For a brief moment, she almost thought she knew him—thought she could see inside his heart.

  Her body tightened around him in delicious spasms until he gave one last shuddering thrust and collapsed against her with his lips against her cheek. She could hear his breath rasping in her ear—feel the hard thump of his heart against her breasts. The sound of her own heart pulsed in her ears.

  A rush of tenderness washed over her so swift and so fierce, a lump formed in her throat. She squeezed her eyes tight and pressed him closer, burying her face against his neck. If only time could stand still, and they could stay like this forever.

  She didn’t want to think about her feelings or what they meant. It was enough to bask in the moment, content in the blissful afterblush of their love making.

  She wanted to stay wrapped in his two strong arms. But reality was already seeping back in. As soon as one of them spoke or moved, it would end. The magic would disappear and the truth would distance them once again.

  It’s only a game, her mind whispered. He’s not keeping you. You best remember that, before you find your heart broken in two.

  In the end it was she who moved, stirred by her own treacherous doubts and misgivings. She loosened her grip and slid her hands down his back in an attempt to commit every smooth hard curve of him to memory. “You’re very soft, Your Grace” she said with a wicked chuckle. “But I think I like that hard part of you best.”

  He rolled to his side, giving her backside a playful swat. Then he propped himself up on one elbow. “I’ll remind you of that the next time I have the urge to sneak into your bedchamber late at night.”

  “Have you had many of those urges?”

  “Now that I know how eagerly they’ll be received, I’ll be sure to let you know when I do.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “I shall have to lock my door then. I think we’ve already tested fate enough in this temporary marriage.” She pressed her swollen lips to his in a teasing caress. Then with a quick agile move she scrambled off the sofa.

  He rolled over onto his side with a languid satisfied smile. “What makes you think a locked door will keep me away from you now?”

  “Tis your conscience that should give you pause,” she said buttoning her jacket.

  “I feel no guilt in bedding my own wife.”

  “Then perhaps you’re not remembering the circumstances of our marriage.”

  “Oh, I remember alright.” He sat up to reach for his shirt. “A cold empty bed reminds me of it each night.”

  “If I remember correctly, it was your idea.”

  His hands stilled. He lifted one brow. “Are you saying it was a bad idea?”

  “Of course not.” She shrugged, now fully dressed. Had she imagined it, or had his tone turned hopeful. Well, if so he would have to do better than that. She would not settle for an almost husband. “I applaud your self-control and shall do my best to honor our bargain to the end,” she said, sailing for the door with an air of unconcern.

  She thought she heard him curse as the door closed behind her.

  ***

  Kay’s gaze strayed to the adjoining door as she stepped from the tub. Two long weeks had passed since her fall from grace in Hunter’s study, yet she could think of nothing else—his scent, his touch, his tenderness. She wrapped the towel Cora handed her around her body, closing her eyes briefly to shut out the memories.

  She opened them with a start when her husband burst through her bedchamber door.

  “Leave us.” he said.

  Cora skittered out the door with the towel for Kay’s wet hair still clutched against her damp bosom.

  Hunter stood staring at her for a long moment after Cora left. He did not look happy. His hair appeared as though he’d been raking his fingers through it. There were dark smudges under his eyes.

  Kay clutched the towel tighter, half-expecting him to tear it off and devour her whole.

  His voice came out strangled, if not raw. “Is this what you want?”

  “What do you mean?” She knew very well what he meant, but didn’t wish him to know how close she was to giving into to her reckless desires. For she knew if she did, she’d be lost. And she dared not leave herself that vulnerable. To give herself over to him body and soul, only to be cruelly pushed aside months from now was sheer madness.

  She couldn’t do it.

  “Dammit! Kay, you know what I mean.”

  She stared back at him, so tempted, yet so afraid, not knowing what to say. Had he but crossed the four steps between them her doubts might have melted away.

  An urgent knock shook the bedchamber door.

  “What in the bloody hell do you want?” Hunter roared as he flung opened the door.

  Robert stood on the other side. “You’ll want to come and hear this for yourself, Your Grace.”

  “Here what? What are you rattling on about, Robert?”

  “The groom from Butterfield Hall is here. He’s waiting downstairs to speak with you.”

  Hunter stalked for the door.

  Hearing her home mentioned, Kay quickly scrambled into her clothes. But despite her haste, she did not make it downstairs in time to speak with Jacob herself.

  In fact, she had to chase after Hunter as he headed out the front door. “Where are you going? What’s happening?”

  “The stallion is missing. Damn! I should have brought him home last night. Stay here!” He flung over his shoulder. “I’ll explain when I get back.”

  “I’m coming with you.” She had to run to keep up with him as he strode across the courtyard. “Perhaps he jumped the fence to go for a run down on the beach.”

  “Or he’s been stolen!” Hunter waved the groom aside. “I’ll finish that. Prepare the Duchess a mount.”

  “Who on earth would want to steal him?” Kay remembered the rider on the beach. “No one knew he was there.”

  “Someone who knows prime horseflesh when they see it.”

  “You needn’t snap at me. This isn’t my fault. Had he been gentler and less aggressive, Storm might have accepted him yesterday.”

  “What did you think he would do, quote her a sonnet?” Hunter gave a snort. “Had you stayed here like I wanted, she might not have been so distracted. Women have no business involving themselves in horse breeding.” He grabbed Beau’s reins and began leading him out the stable door.

  Kay marched right after him. “Of course, I should be involved. She’s my horse. I’ll not have that randy beast nipping the hide right off her to get what he wants.”

  His loud hoot of laughter followed. “Women! They’re forever turning things round to make themselves the victim. How much teasing did you think he’d take before he tried to take what she was clearly offering?”

  The groom led Kay’s mount forward then held her while she swung up into the saddle. “There’s no sense in arguing this issue,” she said with an arrogant toss of her head. “It’s clear we see these matters quite differently.”

  “Agreed.” Came his dour retort. “Now if you’re ready, I have a stallion that needs tracking down.”

  She gave a stiff nod, urging her mare forward. There was no sense debating with him when he was in such a foul mood. If anyone could find the stubborn, arrogant beast, his master could,
since they both possessed the same infuriating traits.

  When they reached Butterfield Hall, Kay hastened to the paddock to check on her mares, while Hunter strode off to question Jacob. After, they rode down to the beach to search up and down the shore. When they had no luck, Hunter decided they should ride to the gypsy camp to see if Miska knew where the horse might have wandered off to.

  Kay didn’t think she’d be of much use tagging along, so she decided to return to the manor.

  During her ride back, she remembered the stranger she’d seen down on the beach, and wished she’d thought to tell Hunter what had happened. It was probably nothing, but still, she’d feel better sharing her unease—having him tell her she was worrying over naught.

  Kay had barely crossed the threshold when Mrs. Baghurst rushed into the foyer. “Your Grace, I be needing to speak with you, at once.”

  Thornhill cleared his throat as though warning her to silence.

  Mrs. Baghurst gave him her back, concentrating all her attention on her mistress.

  “What is it, Mrs. Baghurst?” Kay was more than a little surprised at the housekeeper’s request. None of the servants had ever come to her with concerns or complaints. She’d assumed Hunter had instructed them to inform him about any domestic issues.

  Thornhill’s reaction only confirmed her suspicion that Hunter did not trust her with the running of the house. Other than consulting Henri over menus, she’d been conspicuously uninvolved with the staff.

  This might be a good time to remedy the situation, by making her status as lady of the household known.

  Mrs. Baghurst’s clasp her hands under her bosom so tight, her knuckles showed white. “It’s about that Frenchman.”

  “Henri?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. He’s got the kitchen staff stirred up right good this time. I don’t like to interfere when I know the Duke’s got his heart set on having him here. He told us all how the Frenchman was a sort of wedding present to make you feel comfortable, and we were to hold our tongues and let him be. But, he’s got him a fine temper, he does. I’ve gone through three scullery maids already on account of his fits.”