“Yes,” he said, pulling at her knee and bringing her leg over his back. “Open up for me.” And his cock pushed inside her, just a little. He felt enormous to her and she gasped a little at the intrusion.
Seth lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth and stroking the very tip with his tongue. The tingling expanded, thrummed all the way to the proud flesh between her legs. She felt him push further inside her, spreading her.
“Feel, Natasha,” he whispered. She closed her eyes, spreading her senses out, to feel the sensations he was causing. And despite the tightness, she sensed the rightness of this entry into her body. Though there was a sudden, sharp pain, it felt right. It felt good.
She could feel a pressure on her sensitive nub and the low-grade pleasure it caused that was swiftly building. Seth suddenly slid into her completely, burying himself to the hilt and she gasped. “Oh, that feels so wonderful!” He laughed, a low chuckle that reverberated against her chest and made her smile.
“That’s what I’m supposed to say,” he said and kissed her temple. She felt him withdraw a little, then push in and she coupled up that motion with the stroking of her hand and saw the pattern.
His thrusting caused no discomfort, for the slick moisture aided the motion. Then the pressure on her pearl became a pleasurable massage that swiftly built to a swelling wave of excitement.
“Again?” she gasped, her eyes opening wide.
“Come for me,” Seth gasped. There was sweat at his temples and the tendons at his neck stood out, tight and hard. His thrusting was growing quicker, harder, which built her own pleasure. The peak of it hit her, just as Seth locked into a tight bow above her, with a harsh groan every bit as guttural as her own had been.
She could feel him moving inside her, little thrusts and spasms.
Now I am a woman. The thought held a fierce satisfaction, as her body rocked with the force of her climax.
Chapter Fourteen
There were other couplings that night, in between quiet times when their bodies rested and their minds drifted.
Towards the end of the long night, Natasha found herself rousing from sleep, awoken by Seth’s touch. She lay on her side and Seth was against her back, with his head on her pillow. His hand over her waist had laid heavy and hot, but now it moved, stroking the flat plane of her stomach, making it quiver. Slowly, the hand drifted to her breasts, to tease and tickle the nipples and stroke the soft underside of each swell.
The caresses drew her fully awake and her body, too. She could feel herself growing moist again, just from the touch of his hand on her breasts.
Perhaps he sensed her growing alertness, for his hand slid down to her thighs, and slipped inside the folds of flesh, deep enough to slide inside her. She moved her thighs restlessly, giving him better access and she heard him chuckle behind her.
His lips pressed against her shoulder and his hand moved higher, to stroke the nub of flesh that she’d learned during the night was called a clitoris and was a source of all pleasure for her.
She trembled at the waves his hand was creating. From behind, she felt his cock press against her and slide inside her. She welcomed him with a hot rush of satisfaction, which pushed her enjoyment to a higher level. She encouraged Seth with murmurs and sighs of pleasure as he thrust deep and hard. As her climax took her, she felt Seth stiffen and groan behind her, felt his seed spill into her and let her eyes close in a dreamy, contented bliss.
A little later, she felt Seth shaking her gently. “It’s nearly dawn,” he warned her.
She opened her eyes to find herself staring into his face. Warmth flooded every inch of her as she stared at the man who had taken her maidenhead and who had shown her things she had never dreamed of.
After sleep, he looked younger, the lines around his mouth and eyes not as pronounced. His hair, tousled from sleeping and other things, lay in chaotic disarray on the stark white pillow.
Memories of the night they’d spent flashed through her mind, reminding her why her body ached this morning in places she’d never hurt before. She smiled to herself.
Seth was a wonderful lover, gentle, caring, considerate, passionate. Even now she yearned to make love to him again, to experience the bliss. No wonder her novels had never been able to explain the act itself. There was nothing like it from which to draw comparisons. No words were worthy enough of expressing the emotions involved, save that it was the closest thing to heaven she had ever known.
She glanced over at the small window. The dark sky was starting to turn gray. Dawn beckoned. She should leave right now, return to her home before her parents became aware of her absence.
She glanced back at Seth. He smiled slowly and all thoughts of leaving fled.
“Good mornin’,” he said, pulling her close. His body felt hot and hard and very, very good.
She kissed him, inhaling deeply his musky, masculine scent. If only she could stay like this all day…in his arms.
His shaft, like steel and velvet, nudged against her stomach and she smiled. “See what ye’ do to me, lass?”
She laughed lightly and her fingers brushed along his hard length, feeling him thicken and lengthen under her ministrations. She suddenly understood what Elisa meant about a woman having a certain power over a man. How a single touch could bring a man to his knees.
“You’re a quick study, Natasha.”
She loved his soft Irish brogue. It sent a shiver along her spine. “I learned from the best.”
Her declaration pleased him, she could tell by the light in his gray eyes and he proved it a moment later, kissing her hard, his tongue slipping past her lips, stroking hers with practiced skill, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Nudging her onto her back, he parted her thighs with his knees. He broke the kiss, his eyes so dark and passionate, it made her heart skip a beat.
She glanced down at his manhood, the tip of which touched her opening, which was already hot and wet with need.
Slowly he entered her, inch by inch, as her body stretched to accommodate his great size. He closed his eyes, his jaw set, obviously straining for control. She knew that she would never forget him as he was now. The way the cords of his neck tightened as he tried to contain his need.
Then he began to move, a slow, fluid motion that had her lifting her hips to meet his every thrust. One of his hands covered her breast, weighing it before his fingers splayed, running a nipple between forefinger and thumb. The breath caught in her throat as warmth spread throughout her.
Seth leaned down and kissed her there, his mouth hot, his tongue like velvet as he stroked her. Her insides tightened like a bow, as she neared the unbelievable pinnacle. Then it hit her with a strength that left her breathless, her body pulsing and throbbing as her climax claimed her.
Seth groaned low in his throat as he followed her over the edge, his body shuddering against hers.
As her heart slowed, Seth eased himself onto the mattress next to her, his heated body pressing along her length. His hand curled over her waist in a possessive gesture that made her smile.
She looked past Seth to the window—and was reminded that she needed to get dressed. There was no time to waste. She sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing her shift and hastily putting it on.
Seth ran a hand down her back, sending goose bumps over her flesh. What she wouldn’t give to stay here with him, to spend the day in bed, enjoying this new love. There was nowhere else she’d rather be.
“What now, Natasha? Do you go back and marry him?” Seth’s voice was harsh, and she turned to look at him.
He frowned, his gaze searching hers.
She bent down to kiss him. “How can you ask that? You know my father arranged the marriage against my will.”
“Your father will never allow you to marry me,” he said in a harsh voice. “He will never see me as anything but a convict.”
She wanted to reassure him, but how could she when she knew he
r father better than anyone? Seth was right. Her father would never allow her to marry him.
“I won’t keep you with me, Natasha. Not unless we’re married. I won’t let the world shun you as it shuns me.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’ll go back to my home, to my parents, but you come with me, Seth. Together. We finish this together.” He watched her for a minute, saying nothing. She saw the emotions flicker across his face, and knew he seriously considered what she was saying, but she also saw the stubborn set of his jaw.
“I cannot return with you. Not now, not when you are already in danger. We must keep this private. No one must know. Just promise me you will not marry him.”
“I swear I will not.”
Natasha heard footsteps on the deck above. Vaughn had arrived. She flung on Elisa’s coat and buttoned it, then spared a final glance at Seth.
Should she tell him what lay in her heart? Did she have a right to speak it? She glanced at the bed she had slept in and knew that she was his wife in deed, if not in fact, and the right was hers.
She smiled at him. “I love you, Seth. Only you.”
And she saw his stunned expression as she shut the door behind her.
Ten minutes later, as she sat safely in Vaughn’s carriage, Natasha chewed on her lower lip.
She had seen Seth’s face when she had declared her love to him. Shock, and disbelief. Had she made a mistake by declaring her feelings? Every ounce of her being protested at leaving Seth and the Artemis, but Seth was right—she must bide her time. There was someone out there that could do real harm. She had only to look at what had happened to Vaughn and Elisa for proof.
The carriage stopped just around the corner from her house. She exchanged Elisa’s coat for Hailey’s cloak, pulling it tight around her and kept her head lowered as she made her way to the back of the house.
She dare not try the servant’s entrance, for too many would be up and stirring by now.
Instead, she climbed up the ivy, hoping her footholds did not give and send her plunging to the ground below.
By the time she had made it to her room, she was out of breath and her hands ached from holding onto the ivy.
Daring one last glance down to make sure no one had seen her, she opened the window and climbed into the room, to find Hailey sitting nearby, sound asleep in a chair.
The maid snapped to attention the minute Natasha tapped her shoulder.
“My lady, I was so afraid you would not return in time.” She lowered her voice. “Thank God you are home now.” Hailey hugged her tightly. “Here, let us get you out of that shift and into a nightgown.”
Within minutes Natasha was in her nightgown, snug in her bed and falling asleep, visions of Seth and the night with him filling her thoughts.
A shrill cry woke Natasha from a sound sleep. She sat bolt upright and tried to steady her pounding heart. Had the cry been her mother’s? It seemed it may have been.
Feet pounded down the hallway outside her room as servants raced toward the sound.
Natasha clutched the blankets to her, wondering what had happened. Had her mother discovered her secret? Had she or a servant or perhaps a neighbor seen her climb back into her bedchamber this morning?
Doom filled her. She scrambled out of bed, grabbed her robe and tied it haphazardly. She wrenched at the door and almost slammed into it as the knob refused to give way under her hand.
Of course, of course, the door had been locked.
She pounded on the door and shouted and finally, someone turned the key and let her out. But they had gone before she could even open the door to find out who had paused long enough to help her.
She rushed down the hallway and stumbled down the stairs to the public rooms below.
She came to a skidding stop, her heart jolting in horror. Her mother, whose back never touched the chair, who would sooner die than be seen sitting on the ground, even at a picnic, now sat slumped in the doorway of her father’s study, her skirts indecently showing her ankles.
“Mother!” Natasha rushed to her side, but her father’s valet, Nigel, held her back.
“Lady Natasha, please, I would ask you to go to your room. This is not something you should see.”
A maid held a vial of salts to her mother’s nose and she stirred, a terrible sob tearing at her throat.
What could possibly be so horrible that it would cause her mother to faint and sob in public?
She surged against Nigel’s arms, enough so that she could see further into the room.
It had been snowing in the room. That was her first thought. Snow lay in a small drift across the floor. Then her mind connected up what she was seeing. Down. Small, wispy feathers. And lying at the edge of the mound of feathers, one of her mother’s beautiful tapestried cushions. It lay flat, the tapestry ripped apart. The drift of feathers was the stuffing, which had been cast across the floor like confetti at a wedding....
She saw someone lying flat on the floor, legs sprawled and one of her father’s favorite whiskey glasses lying on its side nearby…and a puddle of blood that had pooled beneath the person’s…body. She recognized the shoes, the feet and the black suit.
Her father.
In that moment she knew her father was dead.
Natasha sagged as a wave of dizziness washed over her and Nigel steadied her.
“I don’t understand!” she wailed.
Tears welled in the older man’s eyes and he shook his head. “Your father has been shot, my lady.”
“Shot? But who?” She couldn’t get her mind to function properly. Her father couldn’t have been shot. Oh, people were shot all the time, but not her father, not in this house…
“Who else, but the very man who was here yesterday. It’s a pity we didn’t kill him then.”
Seth? “That’s impossible.” She shook her head.
“I’m afraid it’s the truth, my lady. Your father was holding a note signed by Seth Harrow, demanding satisfaction for the insult yesterday.”
“Mr. Harrow was not here last night.”
“He must’ve come in the wee hours. Your father woke around two in the morning and I brought him a glass of warm milk. He was alive then, when I retired. Your mother found him just a moment ago. I am so very sorry.”
* * * * *
The sun had well risen, casting long shadows on the deck of the Artemis, as Seth dressed in his gentleman’s finery, preparing for the day ahead. He was usually an early riser, but this morning his mind circled around the small miracle he had experienced last night.
As he had been preparing for this journey, back in Australia, he had braced himself for the grim, unpleasant tasks facing him in London. He would never have predicted finding such happiness in this fat old whore of a city— yet he had.
I love you, Natasha had said. He could hear her sweet voice still. She loved him. He had seen it in her eyes—the softness, the compassion and yes, the love.
It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that. It had been just as long since he had felt anything like that for another. The penal colonies had no time for the softer emotions and ruthlessly stamped out any such inclination. The guards had not cared and soon enough, the prisoners themselves ceased to care. All that mattered was survival at any cost.
But now everything had changed. For all that he tried to deny it, he had a lot to live for and a lot to prove, if he was to win Natasha’s hand. And he would. Whatever and however long it took—it didn’t matter. Natasha Winridge would be his wife.
“Seth, get up here!” Harry yelled from the top deck.
Seth frowned. Harry never yelled.
His heart hammering, Seth rushed from his stateroom, up the steps and onto the deck. Harry pointed to the shore.
Just beyond the Artemis, a group of men were coalescing on the little dock. Many of them wore blue uniforms and tall hats.
His stomach tightened. Bobbies and lots of them, and they were headed for his ship. Why else would they be here?
> How had they found him? Well, it wasn’t as if he’d hidden the ship. It was impossible to hide an oceangoing vessel on the Thames. He’d simply moved it to where it was not expected to be.
He eyed the approaching huddle of bobbies and wondered what trouble Natasha’s father had stirred up for him this time.
Then his heart turned cold as another awful possibility occurred to him. Natasha’s sojourn with him must have been discovered. Her father no doubt had called the authorities. He wasn’t sure what law he had broken, bedding the daughter of a noble lord, but he was sure that her father would find a way to punish him for the deed.
Very well then. Seth took a deep breath. He’d acknowledged the risks he courted last night. Even as he’d watched Natasha climb the gangplank and realized that she had come to him and what the natural conclusion to her visit would be, he’d accepted everything that came with such a night of pleasure. The joys and pleasures, the shining moment she had confessed her love for him and also the consequences.
So he turned squarely to face the policemen. “Harry,” he called softly. “I want you to go to Lord Fairleigh’s house. Tell him to meet me at Scotland Yard as soon as possible. And tell him to bring the best barrister money can buy.”
Chapter Fifteen
“The cargo is rotting away, Seth. All that food. It’s a bloody shame, but I have to make a decision.”
Harry’s fingers tightened around the bars of the jail cell, for he knew as well as Seth where that food had been bound—Ireland, to fill the stomachs of hungry friends. Seth had no intention of returning home empty-handed.
It was a day since Seth had been arrested for the murder of Lord Munroe. The charge had been a cold shock to him and he had spent the time in the cell trying to understand how anyone would profit from the Baron’s death.
It didn’t make sense. But the note found with the body was all the damning evidence the English needed. It gave Seth the only visible reason for killing Munroe.
The problem was, he’d never written said letter, yet no one believed him.
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