by Olivia Drake
A faint smile quirked his lips. “Might I say, Countess, the gown is perfect. The sight of you standing there stunned me … I’m still stunned by your beauty.”
It had taken a good deal of convincing by Violet to talk Laura into the purchase. But now that she could see the admiration on his face, she understood the genius of wearing such a revealing garment. It gave a wife power over her husband.
Laura caressed his cheek. “I’d hoped it would please you. Though I feared it might be too risqué.”
“You can never be too risqué—so long as you’re with me.” He paused, his brooding gaze flicking down to her bared breasts. “And let it be known, I intend to make certain that you never desire any other man.”
His possessiveness both thrilled and intrigued her. He must still be irked over that legal agreement she had made him sign. Didn’t he realize that she had only been trying to protect herself in case he lost interest in her?
Then all rational thought fled her mind as he shifted his hand to the apex of her thighs and began to caress her there. His finger glided into the dampness of her most secret folds, rubbing lightly and igniting a deep pulse beat that spread fire through her insides. Dizzy with the onrush of desire, Laura clutched at his arms for support. “Oh, heavens … what are you…?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Shh, my darling. Just let yourself enjoy it.”
Alex continued his slow exploration, and she melted into him, giving herself up to the tempting sensations he provoked in her. It truly was the most enticing turmoil she had ever experienced. As her passion mounted, she arched against his hand in an attempt to find surcease from the maddening rise of excitement. Time ceased to exist, and a craving built in her for something she couldn’t name. She moaned, her hips moving, seeking, as he plied her with ever-deepening strokes. At last his finger slipped inside her in a shockingly intimate caress, and she tumbled into waves of the most powerful pleasure of her life.
Lying against him in the aftermath, limp and blissful, Laura felt herself lifted in his arms as he carried her to the bed. The coolness of the sheets against her back restored a modicum of awareness to her, though she could only smile at him in an incoherent daze.
Alex stood beside the bed and stripped off his linen shirt. In the candlelight, he had the perfect physique of a deity, his shoulders broad, his chest lightly dusted with black hair, his waist firm and narrow. The rippling muscles across his abdomen fascinated her, as did the flat nipples that resembled ancient bronze coins.
Rolling onto her side, Laura propped herself up on her elbow and watched him unbutton his breeches. “You are truly magnificent,” she murmured, voicing the first lucid thought that entered her mind. “I would very much like to sketch you…”
The words died in her throat as he peeled down his trousers and kicked them aside. He wore nothing beneath, and the sight of his jutting member rendered her speechless. She knew the male anatomy from her study of Greek and Roman statuary in books. But those elegant illustrations had not prepared her for the fullness of him.
A smirk on his lips, Alex stood there in all his naked glory. Then he strutted the few steps toward her and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. He leaned down to brush a kiss over her mouth. “Magnificent, hmm?”
A blush burned her, even as she stole another glance below his waist. The sight robbed her of breath. “And shameless.”
“So you will be, too, I hope. Now sit up a moment. Risqué as it is, that gown has outlasted its purpose.”
An ingrained modesty made Laura hesitate to divest herself of the scant covering. But hadn’t she already abandoned all propriety by allowing him to stroke her between her legs? And she did so want to find out what other delights he had in store for her.
She scooted into a sitting position and tugged the garment over her head. The action mussed her loose hair so that several tawny gold strands curled around her bare bosom. It gratified her to see that Alex’s smirk had vanished. He sat watching her with a fierce intensity, as she had watched him. His lashes were slightly lowered, his eyes nearly black with concentration.
On a whim, Laura combed her fingers through her long locks as if to straighten them. She continued playing with her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders and down onto her breasts like an ever-stirring curtain. Each rippling movement revealed a tantalizing glimpse of the peaks that so engaged his interest.
This went on for several minutes until Alex frowned, lifting his gaze to her face as if it had just dawned on him that her actions were purposeful. Then an appreciative grin tipped one corner of his mouth.
He caught her by the shoulders and pressed her back against the pillows, bringing his body down over hers. “Wicked little jade. Where did you learn that move?”
Despite his smile, a possessive note tinged his voice again. Laura didn’t want him to think even for a second that she’d ever done this with any other man. What was it that had made him so suspicious of women? The answer was something she yearned to find out, though now was not the time.
She tenderly touched his jaw. “You inspire me, my lord. I want to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”
He released a long breath, and in his eyes she glimpsed something rich and deep before he lowered his mouth to hers. “Laura,” he whispered against her lips. “Just being here with you makes me happy.”
He kissed her with a fierceness that she met with her own unleashed desires. She loved the heaviness of his body on hers, the caress of his hands, the groans she elicited in him by her own explorations. Already, the drumbeat of passion throbbed again in her inmost depths, and now that Laura knew the ecstasy that awaited her, she opened her legs in wanton invitation. With all her heart, she wanted to experience that joy again, this time with Alex.
“Please…,” she whispered, impatient for him to get on with matters. “Oh, please…”
“Yes.”
On that guttural word, he lifted himself slightly and she felt the probing pressure of his entry. She experienced a moment of burning discomfort and gave an involuntary wince as he filled her completely. He went still, breathing hard, his entire body taut as he threaded his fingers into her hair.
His eyes searched hers. “Am I hurting you?” he asked hoarsely.
“No! No, not at all.” Laura cupped his face in her hands as the joining of their bodies made her heart overflow. “Oh, Alex, I…” I love you. Just in time, she stopped herself. She couldn’t love him, she mustn’t, not when they had agreed on a marriage of mutual convenience. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“We belong together.” His tone fierce, he moved deep inside her. “Like this. Forever.”
His arms quivered as if he were exerting great effort to control his passions. But she didn’t want restraint. She craved the wild, uninhibited indulgence of their desires. Her head tilted back on the pillows and she arched her hips, the better to feel him inside of her.
Muttering her name, he buried his face in her throat. Carnal pleasure built in her with every plunge of his hips. As her need mounted to a fever pitch, she writhed like a creature of pure sensuality. They found the same rhythm, striving together, kissing and caressing until even those actions seemed superfluous to the demands of their loins. The world narrowed to the fevered beating of her blood, the seductive friction of his thrusts, and at last the shattering euphoria of release. Before the heavenly waves had ebbed, Alex uttered a primal groan, his body convulsing, then settling heavily over hers.
They lay entwined in perfect peace as their breathing eased and their hearts slowed. She was well and truly his wife now, Laura thought in drowsy contentment. There was no going back. For better or for worse, her life was intrinsically bound to his.
* * *
Alex came to an awareness that he must be crushing Laura, though she uttered no complaint. He shifted onto his side and drew her close with his hand resting on the charming curve of her bare bottom. She slipped an indolent arm around his waist. Her eyes were
slumberous, her hair in a glorious golden tangle. She was the very essence of a well-satisfied woman.
“Mmm,” she murmured, nestling her cheek onto his shoulder.
A rush of tenderness left him shaken. Disavowing the mawkish sentiment, Alex placed his chin on top of her head and gazed into the shadowy corners of the bedchamber. Laura was everything he had ever imagined—and more. A man couldn’t hope for a more sultry, captivating wife to warm his bed. She had been incredibly responsive and eager. Yet his mind dwelled on one moment in particular.
Alex, I … I’ve wanted you for so long.
Was that what she’d initially meant to say? Or had she almost spilled out her love for him? There had been a distinct pause, as if she’d reconsidered her words and caught herself in time.
No. He mustn’t delude himself just because he craved to secure her undying devotion. Of course she’d spoken in fits and starts. It was only natural that her thoughts had been disjointed at that time. He had just entered her body and initiated her into joys of lovemaking.
A vast sense of satisfaction crowded out all else. She belonged to him now. He intended to keep her so happy in bed that she would forget about that document she’d required him to sign. A house of her own after giving him two sons—as if he would ever allow her to leave him!
His arms tightened possessively, and she tilted a dreamy smile up at him. He had a keen awareness of her sleek body pressed to him, the soft breasts, the slim hips, the long legs. A pity it was too soon to make love to her again. She had wrung him dry for the moment.
He feathered his lips over hers. “I must confess to being extremely pleased that no other man has laid claim to you these past ten years.”
“Oh, a few tried, but I was quick to discourage their interest.” Her warm smile softened to a more pensive look. “My father and I kept to ourselves by necessity, you know. We lived in a small cottage in the mountains. We didn’t dare encourage any friendships for fear that someone might ask too many questions.”
Alex had a sudden stark picture of her life, cut off from all society. He pressed a remorseful kiss to her brow. “Forgive me, darling. I didn’t mean to stir unhappy memories for you.”
“Oh, but I wasn’t unhappy. It’s perfectly beautiful there. I’d like to show it to you someday.” A sparkle lit up her gorgeous blue eyes, and she touched his cheek. “Do you suppose we might go to Portugal for our wedding trip? Not now, but perhaps later in the summer?”
That syrupy softness took up residence in his chest again. He would go to the ends of the earth if it made her happy. “We can depart next week if you like. As soon as arrangements can be made.”
“No, not yet.” Her expression sobering, she gave a firm shake of her head. “First, I must speak to Lord Haversham. Pray remember, I am determined to clear Papa’s name.”
Alex fought to keep his face neutral. He disliked seeing Laura so caught up in chasing shadows. “Leave the matter to me. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“But I want to question Haversham myself. I owe it to Papa’s memory.” A haunted sadness stole over her delicate features. “Alex, there’s something I haven’t ever mentioned to you. I believe … I fear that my father may have been murdered.”
Had she poked him with a pin, she could not have startled him more. “What?”
“It’s true,” she murmured, a catch in her voice. “I should have told you the circumstances of his death. It happened here in London, shortly after his arrival.”
Deeply disturbed by her words, Alex sat up against the pillows, bringing Laura with him and tucking her within the circle of his arms. He gently pushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “I want to hear everything, Laura. Don’t leave anything out.”
She explained about receiving the express letter from the London police, that Martin Falkner had been found beaten insensible in an alley near Covent Garden, and how she had rushed to England to nurse him, only to discover that he’d already expired from his wounds.
“The police said.… that he’d been set upon by footpads. But it can’t be merely a coincidence, since he’d come to confront Haversham. It just can’t be.”
Alex had a disquieting thought. What if Martin had returned to London to fetch the Blue Moon diamond from a secret hiding place? What if he’d been observed by thieves and then attacked?
He kept that suspicion to himself. Laura believed staunchly in her father’s innocence. She was certain that she’d hit upon the true culprit in Haversham. But she wasn’t privy to all the facts about what had happened back then. Nor was Alex at liberty to tell her.
As much as the secret burdened him, however, he abhorred the notion of Laura ever finding out the truth. She would never forgive him.
Grasping her shoulders, he said, “Listen to me, Laura. I’ve known Haversham most of my life. He may be a dour man, but he’s no murderer.”
Her teeth worried her lower lip. “Perhaps he hired a ruffian to do the deed. If the marquess believed that his crime was about to be exposed, he might very well have taken drastic action to stop Papa.”
Alex refrained from pointing out the flaw in her reasoning. She had assumed Haversham to be the guilty party solely on the basis of a long-ago feud. She didn’t have a scrap of proof. Yet Alex knew he wouldn’t easily talk her out of her suspicions—and he didn’t wish to spoil their wedding night.
“Allow me time to consider the matter, will you? We’ll speak of it on the morrow when I can think more clearly.” Drawing her close, he rubbed a soothing pattern over the silky-smooth skin of her back. “For now, I confess to being a trifle … distracted.”
He meant only to tease her out of the doldrums, to make her smile again. But when she tilted back her head, all trace of anxiety had vanished from her face, and she regarded him with a provocative flutter of her lashes. “I can’t imagine what you mean, my lord.”
That sultry look stirred his blood. “Then allow me to show you.”
Their lips met in a deep, open-mouthed kiss that went on forever. He had never cared much to dally over kisses—except with Laura. And now that their initial madness had been sated, they could enjoy each other in a more leisurely fashion. While his body recouped its vigor, he could take his time dawdling over the delights of her breasts and hips, showing her how to bask in the pleasures of unhurried lovemaking.
But Laura threw his plans into disarray when she slipped a hand between his thighs to glide her fingers over his shaft. His stamina surged back in full, hot-blooded arousal. He sucked in a breath and released it in an attempt to control himself. “Laura…”
She flashed him a too-innocent smile. “Am I being too forward?”
“Am I?” he countered, reaching down to stroke her moist heat.
Moaning his name, she parted her legs to encourage his ministrations. The outside world fell away as they lost themselves to the pleasures of the flesh. Alex was driven by a fierce desire to imprint himself on her, body and soul. No other woman had ever roused such depths of raw feelings in him as Laura did.
In the aftermath, while she slept in his arms and the candles guttered out, he gazed into the gloom of the bedchamber and thought about the violent circumstances of her father’s death. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense that he was missing something vital, something to do with the disappearance of the Blue Moon diamond. The news had cast a disturbing new light on his long-held convictions about the robbery.
Was it even possible she was right? That someone else really had committed the crime? If there was the slightest chance of that, he would move heaven and earth to help her uncover the truth.
Chapter 23
As the casement clock in the reception hall struck eleven the following morning, Laura started down the grand staircase. She wore one of her new gowns, a cobalt-blue watered silk with matching ribbons on her straw bonnet. How strange it felt to be dressed so stylishly, and to be mistress of this elegant house. She had spent over an hour touring the residence with Mrs. Mayhew and had come away satisfied wi
th the housekeeper’s superior management skills.
In the entrance hall below, sunshine streamed through the long windows on either side of the doors, lending an airy brightness to the pale green walls and cream marble floor. The life-sized alabaster statue of a winged goddess glowed on its pedestal in the center of the room. The rural landscapes on the walls appeared to have been painted by notable artists, although Laura had not yet had time for a closer inspection.
A mere two months ago, she had been living in a cozy cottage in the mountains of Portugal, spending her days weeding in the garden, cooking the meals, sweeping and tidying the rooms. Now she had a gardener, a French chef, and a host of upper and lower servants to do her bidding. A tug on the bell rope would bring a footman or a maid within moments. Already she had been the recipient of more bows and curtsies than she had known in the last ten years combined.
It was all so overwhelming—and a bit smothering, if truth be told. If only Alex were here, perhaps she might have felt more at ease.
Laura had awakened to an empty bed. He must have left her chamber around dawn, shortly after they had made love again to the sleepy twittering of birds out in the garden. Then she had dozed for a time, coming awake to full sunlight and Winifred directing a line of maidservants carrying cans of steaming hot water to fill the brass tub in the dressing room. While bathing, Laura had learned from her maid that the earl had departed the house for parts unknown.
She had tried not to feel disappointed. It was only that her heart felt as tender as the rest of her body, which ached a little from the uncustomary activities of the night. She’d known not to expect a romantic honeymoon with an adoring husband always at her side. Alex wanted an heir. Theirs was a marriage of mutual convenience based on lust, not love.
Yet he had been so affectionate in bed that she had allowed herself to hope his feelings for her might run deeper than the physical. She had let herself imagine that his wedding gift of her mother’s pearls really could mean more than a mere token of a passionate encounter long ago. But he had spoken no words of love. And he had not even left her a note this morning.
