A Night of Redemption (The Night Series Book 2)

by Lori Brighton

  Cupping the sides of her face, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You don’t have any idea what you do to me.”

  Yes, he was a beast.

  Yes, he was wretched.

  Yes, he should have left, but she snuggled closer, the only thing separating them his meager clothing, and not even gunpoint could make him leave.

  And no, he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t care. She made him believe in the impossible. When she was near he felt like a hopeful lad again.

  “What?” she whispered. “What do I do to you?”

  “You keep me up at night. I constantly find myself wandering to the windows just for a peek of you with the boys. Hell, I can barely concentrate on anything else but you. Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, if you truly taste as good as I remember.”

  “Tell me.” Her lips parted, her eyes darkening. “Will you kiss me, Nate? Tell me if I taste as good as you remember.”

  With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her, and drew her up atop him. When she nestled her legs between his, pressing intimately to his steely erection, he thought he’d die, actually perish if he didn’t have her fully.

  He wanted her. No, even more…he needed her. He needed to lose himself in her sweetness. He needed to know that she understood him, as he understood her. He needed to be with someone who didn’t look at him like he was a monster. To savor the feel of another, instead of merely finding his release with a whore and moving on. Never getting close. Never.

  “Kiss me, Nate,” she whispered shyly.

  Damn it all, he wanted to kiss her like he’d never wanted to kiss any woman. But if he kissed her, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He slid his hands down her bare back, his fingertips dancing over her satiny skin. “Were you having a nightmare?”

  She hesitated. “No.”

  He found her reaction curious, to say the least. “What then?”

  “Nothing.” She started to roll off him, but his interest was piqued. Wrapping his arms around her, he flipped her over and rested atop, pinning her to the bed with his body.

  She gasped, her eyes wide. Surprised, yes, but he also saw the flare of attraction there. Could sense her desire. Could smell her need. Even felt a shudder run through her body. “What, Beth?”

  She’d grown completely still, as if afraid of moving. “Nothing.”

  From somewhere outside a rooster crowed. The pub would soon stir. His boys would be up and about, demanding breakfast. But for now…in that moment…it was only the two of them.

  Nate’s gaze dropped to her flushed cheeks, her parted lips. He knew, as he felt the rapid beat of her heart against his own chest, he knew what she had dreamt about. Hell, it hadn’t been a nightmare after all. The blood that surged through his body headed straight for his cock. The desire he’d been attempting to keep at bay surged through him overtaking any common sense.

  “Did you dream about this, Beth?”

  Gently, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing her lower lip.

  Her breath came out in rapid, tempting pants. Her body practically arched into him, begging for more. No nightmare at all. He could practically feel the pleasure rippling through her, combining with his own and feeding the beast.

  “Or this?”

  He lowered his head and molded his lips to hers. She sighed against his mouth. A wonderful, wistful sound. His body grew rock hard, his fingers curling into her silky locks. He could hold back no longer. He wanted her with a fierceness that consumed and tortured him.

  He knew it was bound to happen. Had prayed it wouldn’t, but deep down he realized he would take her from the moment she’d first stepped into his library. Nate’s hands skimmed down her curves as his mouth did quick work of branding her. Only his trousers and shirt separated his burning body from hers. He shifted, sliding his knee between her thighs and pressing his erection to her femininity.

  Beth gasped, arching her back as he rocked against her. He could come…he could come so easily. But he’d waited so very long and he would not rush this moment. With a trembling hand he ran his fingers up her silky thigh as his lips pulled a rosy nipple into his mouth.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured against her breast.

  Beth’s fingers found his hair, sliding into the strands and gripping him hard. She tasted like heaven, even better than he’d dreamt. He’d wanted her so badly, for so long, that he could barely contain himself.

  “Dear lord,” she whispered, trembling underneath him.

  His erection pressed painfully hard against his trousers, demanding release. If he could have her just once, perhaps the beast would be sated. His hand found her soft mound, her very femininity, and he slid his fingers through the curls, into the damp, taunting her warm folds. She felt like satin. Like a dream. Like everything he’d ever wanted, ever needed.

  Desperate to touch her fully, Nate slid his finger into her tight sheath. Beth gasped, arching her back as his finger surged in and out of her heat. She was tight, wet, wanting. It would be so damn easy to pull himself free and slide into her warmth. To make her his completely.

  “Nate,” Beth whispered, arching into his palm. “Please!”

  But he wasn’t done. He had to taste her. Had dreamt of her flavors dancing across his tongue. With a growl, he moved from her mouth and trailed kisses over her delicate neck, down between the valley of her breasts, toward her flat belly. Her scent grew stronger the closer he got, and his need flared, a heated fire that burned.

  Had to have her. Needed her.

  “Nate, no,” Beth whispered, horrified.

  “Did your husband never taste you, Beth?”

  “No, of course not. It’s not proper.”

  “Then he was an idiot.”

  Without waiting for her approval, he lowered his head and slid his tongue between those heated folds. Beth cried out as pleasure trembled through her body. The sound only intensified his own hunger. Hell, she tasted like honey and femininity. He could get addicted to her.

  Beth arched her hips. Nate gripped her bottom and pulled her up closer. As his tongue delved into her sheath, his thumb pressed against the sensitive nub. She was close, he could sense it. Damn, but she was so very ripe and ready. She cried out as she came undone, a beautiful sound of release that he’d never grow tired of hearing. The shudder that raked her body flared through his own as if they were one. He almost came then and there.

  Desperate, Nate lifted, intending to unbutton his trousers, but she beat him to it. With hands that trembled with eagerness, she fumbled with the buttons. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and the realization made him drunk with desire.

  “Mrs. Church?” A sudden knock interrupted the symphony of their harsh breathing. Beth froze, her hands at his waistband. “Mrs. Church, I can’t find father. I’m worried.”

  Oliver.

  “Shite.” Nate growled low in his throat and tore himself away from Beth, falling onto the bed beside her. “Hell, hell, hell.”

  Beth scurried from the bed. He had to resist the urge to latch onto her hand and pull her back into the warmth of his arms, to ignore his son and find the release he so desperately needed. His pulse pounded in outrage, his cock straining almost painfully for release. But Beth was across the room, already dressing. And so he could only lay there, watching as she covered her beautiful body with her nightgown and wrap.

  “Coming, Oliver,” she called out, her voice sounding strained, at least. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one wanting more.

  Nate groaned.

  Ignoring him, Beth opened the door a crack and peeked into the hall. “I believe he went down to breakfast.”

  “Oh, all right.” Oliver still sounded worried. The lad had become rather clingy since the wolf attack. The guilt he felt surged to the forefront. If he had taken care of Allen in the first place, his son wouldn’t be hurting now, afraid of his own shadow. “We’ll look for him there.”

  Beth closed the door. He could hear the soft patter of feet receding down the corri
dor. As the area fell silent once more, she turned to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, although whether from their love-making or her embarrassment, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. Hell, her taste still danced temptingly across his tongue. The beast demanded he grab her, pull her back onto the bed and finish what they’d started. But he wouldn’t have the time he wanted to devote to her. And he wanted an entire day, at the least.

  Slowly, he sat up. “Beth.”

  “You should go.” She rushed across the room, a flurry of movement that said she had no time for his nonsense. He might want her, but she’d had enough.

  Hell, what was this power she held over him? He wouldn’t have been surprised in the least if he’d uncovered she was truly a witch, potions and all. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her. To demand explanation. Instead, he merely kept quiet as she began to dress.

  Raking back his hair with trembling hands, he briefly closed his eyes. It was better this way, he thought. The beast wanted her, but he would not let the beast win. He couldn’t. Her very life depended on it.

  Taking in a deep breath, he tore his gaze from her, stood and headed for the door.

  But as he reached for the door handle, he realized that his need for the woman had nothing to do with the animal that lived within. The human inside him wanted her just as desperately. Perhaps in the past his conquests had been to appease the animal. But Beth…Beth was for him. The human. Hell, this wasn’t over after all.

  “I’ll go,” he said, his back to her. “But this, my love, is far from done.”

  Without waiting for her response, he pulled open the door and left the room before he did something they would both regret.

  ****

  Beth blamed her distraction on what had happened with Nate only that morning. The heat, the need, the kisses, the touching… it had all been too much. Her body still thrummed with desire, an aching unfulfilled need that frustrated her. She’d wanted him fully, deeply inside her. And she would have gladly and eagerly given herself to him if Oliver hadn’t interrupted. Blast it all, she would still give herself to him if she’d had the opportunity. What the bloody hell was wrong with her?

  The children might not realize what had transpired, but she had no doubt Mr. Reynolds knew only too well that Nate and Beth had been in the same room. Lord, what had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. She’d only wanted comfort, she’d only wanted someone else, for once in her bloody life, to take care of her. And Nate had offered such a beautiful temptation she couldn’t resist. But now that the day was bright, the sun luminous, she had to face the truth: she had almost ruined her reputation, what little reputation she had.

  What did she think? That Nate would proclaim his undying love, ask her to marry him, and protect her with his brawn and his name? No, men like Nate didn’t marry women like her, unless they wanted something. And as a governess with little money she had nothing to offer. So why couldn’t she stop imagining his hands on her body? His mouth on her skin? His scent mingling with hers? She swore she could still smell him, sense his touch.

  “Mrs. Church, where do you think we’re going?” John asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Perhaps sensing her unease, the boys had been unusually quiet this morning. She would have rather had them loud and unruly. With the carriage quiet, she only had time to think. She brushed aside the curtain, curious about their surroundings. At first glance it was a typical English countryside. Rolling hills full of autumn color. The trees in the distance were just beginning to turn from green to yellow and red. She had a feeling they had seen their last warm day.

  She started to let the curtain fall back into place when a particularly large, gnarled oak caught her attention. Her pulse quickened. So familiar. She and Meg had sat beneath that tree many times discussing the plight of her marriage. But no. It couldn’t be.

  No.

  It wasn’t.

  Bleedin’ hell, it was!

  Her heart leapt into her throat. How had she not noticed? She shoved the curtain further aside and hung out the open window, frantically searching the rolling hills. There was Mr. Lawson’s cottage, clear as day.

  “Mrs. Church?” Oliver called out, tugging on her arm. “Are you well? You look awfully pale.”

  As the apple trees came into view, heavy with fruit, her stomach turned. Beth slumped down into her seat, half-hidden by the dim light of the coach. She knew what would appear next…the yews that led to her home.

  Oh dear Lord!

  For five minutes the children chatted, fought, asked questions, she merely sat numbly staring out the window as the fence appeared. That familiar stone fence. Next, the drive that led to her front door. She held her breath as they swept by. The broken gate and overgrown weeds told her the place remained abandoned. It all felt like a dream. Some long ago nightmare.

  She had come home.

  “Wonder where we are!” Charlie said excitedly.

  Beth felt ill. No matter how hard she’d tried to escape, somehow, in some way, she’d been led back home. Perhaps it was God’s way of seeing her punished. Perhaps it was his way of telling her she must turn herself in, accept what she had done and the punishment that she deserved.

  The carriage rolled to a stop and the boys were first on their feet, tumbling from the coach in their haste to escape the tedious confines. She moved more slowly, forcing herself to step from the coach and into her past. The sun seemed too brilliant, too harsh. Despite its warmth, she was chilled to the bone. Beth tilted her head back and gazed up at the large stone manor. Pease Manor.

  Grayson Bellamont’s home.

  The man had practically accused her of murder, been adamant about seeing her charged.

  He would recognize her immediately.

  It was over.

  “Lord Brimley!”

  Stunned, Beth jerked her gaze toward the familiar voice. Meg hurried down the steps in a beautiful blue day dress Beth knew she couldn’t afford. Her dear friend was the last person on earth she ever thought she’d come across, and the one person she hoped to see.

  “My husband isn’t here to greet you as he had an emergency with a tenant farmer.” Her nervous gaze flickered toward Beth. “But I hoped I might welcome you.”

  Husband? Husband!

  “Of course.” Nate gave Meg the sort of smile she’d always hoped to see from him, full of charm and adoration. “I’m honored.” He took Meg’s hand and bowed low, the gentleman that he was. He might feign being a beast, but Beth knew the real man inside. She’d witnessed his caring nature upon more than one occasion. But how would he react when he knew the truth about her?

  Meg’s gaze slid to Beth. “So pleased to have you here.”

  Her friend hid her nerves well, but Nate had keen senses and Beth didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes. Was it the way Meg nervously clutched her hands together, the veiled plea in her gaze? He noticed something, all right.

  He nodded toward Beth. “My governess, Mrs. Church, and my boys.”

  “Of course! Delighted.” Meg moved toward Beth. “Allow me to escort them around the house. They must be in need of a good stretch.”

  He frowned. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist. I do know children, Lord Brimley, and they need their exercise. Our butler will help you inside.” Meg started toward the gardens, leaving a confused Nate behind. Beth didn’t dare look his way as she scurried after her friend. The boys whooped in delight and raced ahead like little heathens. Odd indeed. It was too late, Nate knew something was amiss.

  “Boys, do go ahead to the stable and ask Mr. Henry for some apples to feed the horses,” Meg said.

  The boys didn’t need to be told twice and raced toward the building, eager to run and have a bit of entertainment after being cooped in the carriage for two days. Beth sighed. How she wished she could be so carefree.

  Meg slowed and fell into step beside Beth, but she waited until the boys were out of hearing distance to speak. “I only found out about your ar
rival days ago. When Grayson said Nate and his family would be visiting, I nearly fainted. I prayed he would leave you at home.”

  “Grayson?” Beth had to force herself not to reach out to her friend and hug her tightly. Meg had been her only true family for years, the only one who had really cared. When she glanced over her shoulder it was to see Nate still standing there, watching them. “Bleedin’ hell, Meg! What are you doing here?”

  Meg had the decency to flush. “Surprise.” She gave Beth a half-hearted smile. “I’m married.” She held up her hand to show off a beautiful diamond and sapphire wedding ring.

  “No!” Beth cried out, drawing Oliver’s attention. She gave the boy a forced smile. Appeased, he turned back around and raced after his brothers toward the large stables that proclaimed to the world, in case the massive manor wasn’t enough, that Grayson Bellamont had money. Lots.

  Meg nodded, the lovely curls bouncing near the nape of her neck. “I am. And not by force…mostly not.”

  It was a pretty coiffure that Meg couldn’t do on her own. Which meant Meg had servants. Lots, if the size of the house was any indication. How could things change so drastically? This was all her fault. If she hadn’t left, if she hadn’t used Meg to hide behind…Beth resisted the urge to curse again. “But that man…that man…you hated him!”

  She cringed. “No, not hated.”

  “He accused you of murder!”

  “Yes, and well,” her flush deepened, “he’s very sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry!” Beth sank onto an iron bench. If she didn’t sit she feared she’d do something drastic, like shake some sense into her friend. If only she and Meg could run off together. If only they had the funds to find a cottage somewhere and hide until…

  “I love him, Beth.”

  Startled, Beth glanced up at her earnest friend. And there it was…a look in Meg’s eyes that Beth knew only too well. Her friend truly did love the man. “We’re doomed.”

  Meg started to reach for her. “There’s so much to tell you.”

  “No,” she whispered, glancing toward the drive. Nate was gone, but she had no doubt he still watched. She could practically sense him, feel him. “Don’t hug me. Don’t act like you know me at all.”