Chapter Sixteen
War had never heard such broken sounds of pain as the ones that now came from Claire. She lay across the carriage seat, shaking with the force of her grief, the final release of the secret she had carried for so long. The secret he had all but forced her to tell by dragging her to see her family.
He couldn’t hear that pain anymore, not without offering some comfort. He moved to her side of the vehicle and drew her into his lap, rocking her as she gripping his jacket in both hands and clung to him like he was her only lifeline.
He hoped he could be. He feared he would fail.
“Let it out,” he murmured into her hair. “Let it out at last, Claire. You’ve carried this so long. Set it down now.”
“It will never be the same,” she sobbed, pulling away from his jacket, turning her red, tear-streaked face toward him. “Did you see their expressions? I am a stranger to them now. We can never go back to the way it was.”
He pondered that statement for a moment before he said, “No, you can’t. But the idea that you could was always an illusion. The truth of life, sweet, is that we are never going backwards. Only forward, only changing. You can’t be the same girl who found those letters and the truth that night. You can’t be the same girl who slipped into the night with Aston, a heavy secret on her back. But they love you. And you will find a new way.”
“A new way.” She shook her head. “Have I earned a new way by ruining them? By slipping into their ranks for so long and rotting them out from the inside?”
He grasped her arms gently. “Stop that now. You heard what your mother said. She loved you the moment she saw you. She regrets nothing. The only way you rot this family from the inside is if you turn away from them again. If you don’t allow them to get to know you as you are now and work together to forge a new path.”
She sucked in her breath, it hiccupped into her lungs on a half sob that shook her slender frame. “I don’t know if I can. There is Francesca to think of. There is your brother. My plans.”
“You are ten steps ahead.” He touched her wet cheek. “Focus on this moment, Claire. This moment alone. Focus on who you are.”
“I don’t know who I am,” she whispered. “I haven’t known who I am in years.”
“I know you,” he said without hesitation.
The carriage was slowing now. They were pulling into his drive. “Will you remind me?” she asked, her voice small and broken.
He drew back slightly. She was looking at him with obvious intent. She wanted him. And he knew she was just looking for a balm on a burn. A moment to forget everything except physical sensation. She would use him.
And he would let her, just as he always did.
“Yes,” he whispered as the carriage stopped. “I’ll remind you.”
The carriage door opened and he stepped out, drawing her down, waving off assistance as he led her up the stairs, past the servants, to his chamber. He brought her inside, shutting and locking the door behind them, and then he just stared at her.
Even in her grief, she was beautiful. Even in the gown that didn’t quite fit her, she was perfection. He wanted to push her up against the wall and have her, he wanted to blindfold her again and have her trembling as he licked her.
But that wasn’t what she needed today. Today she needed power. So he stripped out of his jacket and held out his arms.
“What do you want to do with me, Claire?”
She stared. “Do with you? What happened to utter surrender?”
He smiled softly and then bowed. “You have it, my lady. Do as you wish.”
She bit her lip, almost as if she had no idea how to proceed. Then she motioned her finger at him. “Take it all off,” she ordered.
He did so, taking his time, purposeful in each unfastening of a button, removal of cloth. She folded her arms and stared at him, her face bright with appreciation of his body as he revealed each inch to her.
Finally he dropped the last of his clothes away and stood naked before her. She licked her lips and his cock jerked of its own accord, demanding he take over in this seduction. He ignored the need and gritted his teeth as he waited for her to move next.
She tilted her head. “This is difficult for you,” she whispered.
He nodded, willing to give her that.
“And yet you still surrender,” she continued.
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
She moved forward, reaching out to cup him gently. Electric pleasure shot up into his stomach, spreading warmth through his body as she stroked him.
“I know how I’d like to reward you,” she whispered before she pressed her lips to his collarbone, tasting his skin. “Unbutton me.”
She released him and turned her back on him. He leaned in and breathed in her scent before he started to unfasten the buttons along her spine. How he wanted to cup her breasts, bend her over, slide into her as she screamed out his name and quaked around him.
Instead, he backed away. She turned, smiling as she slid the gown away and let it crumple at her feet. The chemise beneath was too short as well. It didn’t quite cover her thighs, and offered him a peeking glimpse of her sex. He ground his teeth and forced himself to stay exactly where he was.
“Lay on the bed, War.” She pointed behind him.
He did so, propping himself up on the pillows and watching her. She moved toward him slowly. Not hesitantly. No, not that. She knew what she was doing, she knew how to do it. She moved slowly to torture him, he thought. Or to keep herself from going too quickly.
She climbed onto the bed and stroked him one more time. She smiled. “You know, I would love to torture you the same way you torture me. I would love to take advantage of this freedom you offer because I fear it won’t be offered again. But right now I just need you, War. I need you inside of me. I need to forget what happened today. Just for a moment.”
He sat up slightly and cupped her cheek. “Use me. And if you want another chance at control, we can negotiate that later.”
She smiled slightly at the offer but then turned her lips into his palm. She kissed him, open-mouthed, her tongue hot on the sensitive flesh. Then she moved, straddling his lap, letting her sex rub over him. He hissed, fighting the urge to lift up, spear her, claim what he knew wasn’t his for much longer.
Instead, he leaned forward and sucked her nipple through the flimsy chemise fabric. She arched her back, granting him greater access, and flexed her hips over him. The tip of his cock slid inside of her and she gasped out pleasure.
“God, I wish I could feel this way forever,” she grunted as she opened wider, sliding over him to the hilt and resting there, her sex flexing around him and tormenting him.
“Don’t worry about forever,” he whispered. “Just now.”
Her gaze met his, and she held there as she began to move over him. She was the ocean, rolling waves crashing over him, drawing him in, deeper and deeper. He clung to her hips, digging his fingers in, knowing he would leave bruises and yet unable to stop himself. If he didn’t hold tight to her, he would be swept away.
She moaned as she thrust, her body shaking around him. He could see how close she was to release, he could feel it in the way her wet sheath clung to him so tightly. It took an act of sheer will not to take over. Not to flip her on her back and do exactly what he knew would make her explode.
She dug her fingers into his bare chest, pressing them into his flesh as her tempo increased. She tilted her head back, rocking against him, and then her face twisted. She cried out in pleasure, slamming harder and harder, pulling at him, taunting him, daring him to find his own release.
It was too much. He lifted up, meeting her strokes, pushing her off the bed with every stroke. His balls tightened, his cock throbbed, and he felt the moment just before he lost control. With a shout, he flipped her on her back, withdrew and spent between them, growling her name against her nec
k as his world blurred.
Her arms came around him, her hands smoothing into his hair and her nails moving across his scalp gently. He let himself lay there, his face buried in her neck, their bodies entangled, the passion between them spent. The love he felt for her only growing.
He lay there and wished it would never have to end.
Claire adjusted the sheets around her naked body and let out a sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. Her body felt so relaxed, so light, so free. She only wished she could quiet her mind as easily.
There had been peace for a moment. Right after she came, she had felt so good. But then War had left to get them food and she was alone with her thoughts. Thoughts of her family, their pain when she confessed the truth. Thoughts of her daughter, a helpless baby who needed her mother. Thoughts of War and this connection that couldn’t last.
She scrubbed a hand over her face as she tried to erase the thoughts from her mind. They served her in no way.
The door to the chamber opened and she forced a weak smile as War entered the room balancing a bottle of wine, two glasses and a pile of delicious finger foods on a tray. She couldn’t help but laugh at how uncomfortable he looked.
“Shhh, I’ll drop it all,” he said as he eased his way to the bed and set the tray down.
She righted the empty wineglass that had fallen and smiled as he shrugged out of his dressing gown and joined her beneath the covers.
Just having his warm body settle beside her helped her wild mind find some calm. Oh, how dangerous a fact that was. She couldn’t depend on him. She couldn’t depend on anyone.
Not even herself.
“You look a bit better,” War said as he poured them wine.
She took a sip and set the glass on the table beside the bed. She picked up a piece of cheese and chewed it thoughtfully before she answered.
“I don’t know if I feel better,” she admitted. “Empty, in a way. That secret filled so many parts of my soul.”
He nodded as if he understood. Perhaps he did. He had confessed many a secret to her in the past few days. She guessed he probably held back a few more.
“You told your family that you had never spoken that secret out loud. Despite the nature of your relationship, you truly never told Aston?”
She flinched. “Great God, no. Because of the nature of our relationship, I knew sharing such a secret would only give him ammunition to use against me.”
His frown deepened and she saw his pity. “I’m sorry he was never good for you.”
She shrugged. “In truth, I destroyed myself with that secret more than he could have ever destroyed me.”
“Claire,” War said, taking her hand and lifting it to his heart. She followed the movement with her gaze, watching how pale her skin looked against his. Feeling the beat of his heart, so strong. Feeling the warmth of his skin, so comforting. “You are not destroyed.”
Her gaze flitted up, moving over the lips she wanted against hers. Over the strong face until she met his dark eyes. Their gazes held for a beat, and she shivered.
She loved this man. And in his look, she could see that it was very likely he loved her in return. Years ago she would have thrilled at the realization. She would have done anything to see it there. But things were different now. She had done so much, seen so much, sacrificed so much. And she had another person to think of.
But she still yearned for that connection, that emotion that she had never really shared with another person.
There was a light knock on the door and War got up. “I told them to bring me any message that came from my brother, so it may be important.”
She nodded, her heart leaping and her mind refocusing where it should be, the search for her daughter. He yanked on his dressing gown and stepped into the hall, where she heard his low voice as he spoke to the servant. In a moment, he returned, a message in his hand.
He looked pale and unhappy.
“From him?” she asked, sitting up straighter.
“Yes. He’ll meet with us tomorrow night.”
She wanted to smile, to laugh with relief, but she couldn’t. Not when War’s face was so drawn and emotional. Because of her, he was going to have to face his demons. Because of her, he would be forced to return to a place he’d escaped.
All she did was destroy. That was part of the reason she couldn’t allow her love for him to rule her. She would only ever hurt him.
“Will you help me keep my word and see your family again?” he asked.
She jerked her gaze to his face. He was frowning. See her family again? The very idea made her ache so much inside. But she nodded nonetheless. “Yes. We left a great deal unsaid and I know I owe them that much. I owe you even more. But War, today it was obvious that you and I have a connection. A physical one. I will try to protect you, but I fear you might lose your job because of me.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about protecting me.”
She bent her head. “Yes, I do. I endangered you after all.” She cast a quick glance at the note in his hand. “I keep endangering you.”
“I could have refused you,” he said, his voice almost too soft to hear.
She lifted her gaze to his and held there. “Could you have?”
He didn’t blink, he didn’t look away. But after what seemed like an eternity, he simply sighed. “No.”
She swallowed hard. He did love her. As much as he shouldn’t. He did.
She turned her face. “I’ll go to them tomorrow if you’d like. In the morning, before we are to meet with your brother. But my priority is Francesca, War. It has to be.”
“I know,” he murmured.
She forced herself to look at him again even though it hurt to do it. It hurt even more when she said, “I’m giving the most I am capable of giving, War. There can be nothing else but this.”
She saw the flicker in his gaze, the slight twitch around his mouth. He knew what she was saying. She hated herself for it, but walking away was the best thing she could do for this man at present. She knew it. She thought, somewhere deep down, perhaps he knew it too.
Either way, it was exactly as it was. She couldn’t change it.
“I’ll send word to your family that we will call again tomorrow,” he said, his voice rough.
She nodded and pushed the food aside. She was no longer hungry. “Then I think I’ll return to my chamber,” she said. “It was a trying day and I want to be fully rested before I face my family and your brother.”
“I see.” His tone betrayed no feeling.
“Good night,” she said as she pushed from the bed to find her clothing scattered on the floor.
“Good night, Claire,” he said softly. Then he stepped from the room and left her alone to gather herself.
Alone, as she had to be. Alone as she knew she always would be. And even though she knew it was better for them both to recognize the limitations of this connection, it still hurt like hell.
War had never been one to drown his sorrows in alcohol. He had always valued his judgment too much to give in. But tonight, he made an exception and poured himself another glass of scotch.
He didn’t want to go to bed, even though it had been hours, even though he knew sleep would make him sharp tomorrow. The bed would retain Claire’s scent, just as it had the first time they made love. His pillows would taunt him, his sheets would remind him, and right now he didn’t want to be reminded.
Claire had told him tonight what he already knew: despite their intense physical connection, they would never be together. And why would they? She was the daughter of a prominent family. He was a former thief and street rat. Even now his respectability was hardly higher. He worked for her brother.
He was not worthy.
So now he had to focus. Even through his drunk mind, he knew that. Now he had to think about helping Claire get her daughter back. Now he had to think about seeing Jack again, handling him.
So he should have gone to bed.
But he downed the scotch instead and poured himself another.
Chapter Seventeen
Claire fidgeted as she ran her hand over the sleeve of her gown. The same gown as she had worn yesterday when she met with her family. She was certain her sister and sisters-in-law would notice. They were all so fashionable—would they judge her when they entered her mother’s parlor where she now sat?
“You’re fine, Claire,” came War’s voice behind her
She turned slightly in the settee to look at him. He appeared a bit worse for wear this morning. Hungover, she thought, which surprised her. He didn’t seem to her the kind of man who would resort to excessive drinking.
She pursed her lips. “Is there any reason you’re standing so far away?”
He didn’t meet her stare. “I am merely your escort today. There is no reason for me to involve myself in this meeting any further.”
She frowned. He had been distant all day. Even in the carriage, he had hardly said two words. Oh, he was still polite, but formal.
It seemed her words about not being able to give more had hit home with him. He was distancing himself from her now. Perhaps that was for the best.
It just didn’t feel that way.
The door to the parlor opened, and Claire bolted to her feet and watched as her entire family entered the room. Today she was able to look at them without so much terror. Each of them looked the same. And yet so different.
They stood as a group for a moment, and then her eldest brother, Edward, stepped forward.
“I wanted to do this yesterday, Claire,” he said. Then he opened his arms and drew her in for a hug.
She stood stiff and surprised for a moment, but then she folded her arms around him. They stood that way for what felt like an eternity, though Claire knew it was likely no more than a moment. Then her brother stepped back and took her hand.
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