In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady

by Gayle Callen

  “Now, boys,” she began.

  But Julian moved her aside as if she were as light as a child.

  “Get ’im, Wilfred,” one of the group grumbled.

  The Earl of Parkhurst was in a confrontation in a taproom? Because someone had touched her? It didn’t seem possible. He was a rational man who used words to settle his affairs and defeat his business opponents.

  “I suggest ye leave your hands off me wife,” Julian said, stepping close to stare the man down.

  Now he was using intimidation, instead of words.

  “Ye ‘suggest,’ do ye?” Wilfred shot back. “How polite o’ ye. ’Tis a shame I won’t be listenin’ to yer suggestion.”

  The barkeep came out of an adjoining room, wiping his hands on his apron. He was an older man, with bags under his eyes and thinning hair, and he regarded Wilfred with resignation.

  “Now stop this, boys,” he said.

  Julian turned toward the barkeep, and Wilfred took his chance, popping Julian in the face. Rebecca gasped, but Julian only took a step back with the force. She would not have thought it possible for his expression to darken more, but it did, and he bared his teeth in a fierce grin.

  She covered her mouth, afraid that he would see how utterly thrilled she was that he was fighting for her.

  The barkeep said, “Wilfred, not again! Ye broke a table last time.”

  “Not this time.” Julian picked him up by the lapels of his jacket and carried the squirming man outside.

  As everyone emptied out of the taproom to follow the men, Rebecca tagged along, feeling almost giddy at such a display of Julian’s strength. She wanted to feel that strength at her command.

  The barkeep was beside her, and he shook his head as they walked. “Wilfred just can’t keep his hands off my girls,” he said. “My apologies, Lucy. Hope yer husband doesn’t take the brunt of it.”

  “Does he look like he will?” she asked.

  But really, she shouldn’t be exuberant. Maybe Julian didn’t know how to fight at all. He was a businessman, a nobleman.

  He launched himself at Wilfred, punching him in the stomach, and then when Wilfred bent over, punching him in the face for good measure. Two blows, and Wilfred was flat on his back, moaning.

  Julian was a fighter. She sighed with happiness.

  “Hope this teaches ye a lesson, Wilfred,” the barkeep said, shaking his head as he turned to go back inside.

  The crowd muttered with disappointment, and someone took a bucket of water from the horse trough to dump in Wilfred’s face.

  Rebecca rushed to Julian, who stood looking down at his opponent, hands on his hips. “Are you all right, Ernest?”

  “I’m fine.” He took her arm and propelled her back inside.

  When he would have bypassed the taproom, she dug in her heels. “I made a commitment. I have to finish.”

  He looked at the clock on the mantel, then said to the lingering barkeep, “How much longer?”

  The baggy eyes narrowed as if he had a hard time seeing at the distance. “’Nother hour.”

  “Very well,” Julian said. “But if another man so much as bumps her—”

  “Who would dare?” the barkeep said, eyeing the width of Julian’s shoulders.

  Julian resumed his place, and Rebecca glanced at him with interest as she continued to wait on the tables. She would have thought the fight would settle him down, now that all the patrons knew what he was capable of. But his gaze followed her from beneath lowered brows, and his mouth was grim. She did not sense anger directed toward her, but…she wasn’t quite sure what she sensed.

  After that, all of her customers were respectful, and the hour passed uneventfully. Most customers had gone home to their beds in anticipation of another day of work. And the ones who lingered were only finishing their beer. The barkeep gave her a nod, and Julian must have been waiting for such a signal, for he came immediately to his feet.

  “Ye have my thanks, Lucy,” the barkeep said. “Ye won’t be charged for yer stay here tonight.”

  “Thank you!” she said brightly. She took Julian’s arm. “I’m ready.”

  After spending her whole life hoping for a journey like this one, she had made it happen herself, running away from London and forcing Julian to keep her with him. She’d even earned money on which to survive. She had to make her own goals happen—and would do that again this night. Waiting for Julian Delane to see the truth of their relationship was useless. The reoccurrence of a fever last autumn had made her realize that nothing was certain. She was going to make love to him, just in case she didn’t live long enough to ever have the chance again. The long wait was over.

  They walked up the creaking wooden staircase, lit by the candle Julian had plucked from the counter in the hall. She kept her arm through his, and he felt stiff with tension. She would have to tread carefully, looking for a way to turn his anger into passion.

  Once in their room, he placed the candleholder on the table as she shut the door and leaned against it. She didn’t know how she was supposed to school her expression for a seduction, but she let herself look down his body and imagine touching it, seeing everything he’d kept hidden from her. Her limbs felt deliciously heavy, her heart sped up in anticipation. He would no longer deny her.

  Before she could even walk to him, he gripped her arms, pulling her against him. Dumbfounded, she gaped up at him.

  “You’re mine,” he said hoarsely.

  And then he kissed her.

  Rebecca could have swooned with the heat and need and relief those words inspired. And his kiss—! Strong and powerful, his tongue thrusting into her, one hand holding her head still, the other moving sensually down her back. He pulled her hips hard against him, his arousal saying everything words couldn’t.

  With joyous abandon, she wound her arms about his neck, running her hands through his thick, dark hair. She moaned as she met his tongue with her own, teasing and darting. He tasted of beer, and it was more erotic than she could have imagined. She pressed herself against him, as if her aching breasts could only find relief against his body.

  He lifted his head, and she felt a momentary disorientation and even disappointment. Would he refuse her yet again?

  Instead he turned her around and pressed her against the door while he began to unhook her gown. She tilted her head to the side, her cheek against the cool wood, eyes closed, enjoying every sensation. She moaned as he kissed her neck. She felt her garments loosen, and he nibbled at her bare shoulders.

  He turned her about again, her back against the door, her loose bodice beginning to slide down her torso. They looked into each other’s eyes as her garments caught on the peaks of her breasts—and then he tugged, revealing her bare flesh to him, set off by the beauty of the red diamond gracing her cleavage.

  He dropped to his knees, murmuring her name even as he cupped her breasts, molding them, lifting them to his mouth. She cried out when he licked a path between them, pressing kisses up the valley to the very peak. She held his head to her while he gave her nipple the gentlest kiss. Then he met her eyes from below, and she knew hers were wide with anticipation and yearning.

  Then he took her nipple deep into his mouth and suckled. She gasped and shuddered, only the strength of his body keeping her standing there. Glorious pleasure seemed to be in every part of her at once, from her fingertips to the very depth of her belly. Then he moved to the other breast, pushing her dangerously to the edge with his tongue and lips, even as his fingers soothed and teased the first nipple.

  She couldn’t stop shaking, and felt as if the whole world was about to be revealed to her.

  With one fell swoop, he pushed the rest of her garments off her hips and she was naked, but for her stockings and boots. He kept his hands on her hips, looking at her with the smoky light of desire in his gray eyes.

  And then he lifted her off her feet and deposited her in bed. She sprawled there, naked and open to him, and felt almost embarrassed as she tried to bring her
knees together.

  “No,” he said hoarsely, hands on her knees. And then he spread them wider. “Don’t move.”

  And she didn’t. She watched with pleased awe as he began to shed his clothing at what was surely a record pace.

  “Can I not help?” she asked.

  “Next time.”

  She could have laughed her delight. There would be a next time.

  But her urge to laugh faded, as she was able to see more and more of his magnificent body. By candlelight, his muscles were sculpted in shadows, the ridges of his abdomen awe-inspiring. A dark, narrow streak of hair began just below his navel, leading her wide eyes downward as he removed his trousers, then undid the fastening of his drawers.

  When his erection came free, she stared at it in amazement. She’d once snuck a peek at a book of her sister’s anatomy sketches, but she was still unprepared for the sheer size. She felt a momentary qualm at the thought of such a thing fitting inside her.

  Then he bent over her, bracing his body with one arm beside her shoulder, his face intent, his hand trembling as he ran the backs of his fingers down her belly. Something inside her went so soft and tender that he felt emotional at the thought of being with her.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss just below her navel.

  She shivered and jerked, her breath coming harder now, her anticipation bubbling over until she felt that every second’s delay was torture.

  “Julian, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Don’t make me wait.”

  And then his fingers sifted through her pubic curls, and her limbs trembled.

  He parted her and she moaned. He caressed and lingered and circled, until she was gasping his name.

  “I can’t wait,” he said, his voice guttural.

  “Then don’t.”

  He pushed her farther onto the bed and stretched his body over hers. “This will hurt the first time.”

  Desperate not to give him a reason to stop, she said, “Oh, no, I’ve had many lovers.”

  His laugh was more of a grunt. He settled between her thighs, bracing himself so that he didn’t crush her. Feeling awkward and unsure of what to do, she lifted her knees. She could feel the hardness of him probing at her, and although it should have been embarrassing, so intimate, this was Julian, giving himself to her at last. Just as she was thinking that this didn’t hurt at all, he gave a hard thrust, and she gasped at the brief, burning pain.

  He didn’t move, his body held still above her, the faintest tremble in his arms. “Are you all right?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. She wanted to feel all that rising passion again, all the heat and need building inside her. Surely this wasn’t all—

  And then he started to move, coming almost all the way out of her, and sliding back in, deep.

  “Oooh,” she said, understanding suffusing her. “This feels…oh—”

  “Yes,” he whispered, his thrusts increasing in pace.

  He angled his hips against her, and the friction and pressure set off an answering urgency inside her. She abandoned thought, knowing only he could give her what she wanted. She dragged his torso down to her, moving with him, against him, her arms around him. He met her open mouth with a deep, passionate kiss. As their bodies fused together below and above, she lost herself in the need that pounded through her. She made sounds she didn’t know could come out of her throat, and he answered her wordlessly, bending to take her breast into his mouth.

  She strained toward the ending that eluded her, gasping, going ever higher, feeling the terrible tense stillness rising and rising—until a burst of hot pleasure came over her in waves. She shuddered down through it, awed and grateful and so very satisfied. The world was a glorious place.

  And then Julian rose up and increased his pace. All she could do was hold on.

  Chapter 19

  Julian felt mindless, beyond pleasure into a world of sensation he’d never felt before. The depths of Rebecca’s body were hot and tight, as if made to give him pleasure. She didn’t shy away from the earthiness, the sweat, the friction of two bodies rubbing against each other. She caressed and held and urged him on, looking for her own pleasure.

  And when at last she took it, her face full of radiant, wondrous bliss, he let himself go, shuddering over her, thrusting over and over until pulling out of her at the last moment, his own climax cascading over him, sweeping away the last of his doubts and indecision.

  He came down onto his elbows, not wanting to crush her into the bed. Yet the moist heat of her breasts enticed him. He couldn’t seem to remember how to slow his breathing. His chest ached with the effort.

  Still she touched him, torturing him with her hot, inquisitive fingers. When her thumbs rubbed gentle circles on his nipples, he groaned and moved against her thigh.

  She smiled up at him. “At last I know what all the thumping was about when we were in the lodging house with all those other people.”

  He gave a hoarse laugh. “You knew they were having sex.”

  “But I didn’t quite grasp what they were doing.”

  He collapsed at her side, his arm across her, his leg over her thighs.

  “Holding me captive?” she murmured, her voice musical with amusement.

  “It’s not necessary?”

  “No. There is certainly nothing to flee from.”

  After using his shirt to clean his seed from her thigh, he realized she was watching him almost uncertainly.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, letting his hands soothe her, cupping her breast.

  She trembled, eyes half closing, even as she said, “I keep waiting for you to be angry.”

  “I won’t,” he said, holding still instead of distracting her. “Once I’ve made a decision, I never regret it.”

  She seemed to relax then in his arms, and her hands went back to caressing him, which he well appreciated. He sighed with pleasure.

  “You say you won’t marry, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine, Rebecca.”

  A faint frown furrowed her brow, and he tried to smooth it away with his fingers.

  “For now,” she said.

  He shrugged, not ready to destroy their peaceful contentment by arguing with her. She could think what she liked, but she’d been a virgin, and he’d taken her innocence. She could not deny the truth. Although he’d taken one precaution, there could still be a child. He would not spoil the mood by reminding her of that. But they would wed. He smiled and closed his eyes.

  “You seem almost smug, Julian,” she accused, her voice light. “Why is that?”

  “You have not had other lovers.”

  “Hmm. Why does it matter one way or the other?”

  “A man likes to know that no other man touched what is his.”

  “You’re beginning to irritate me.”

  He opened one eye.

  She was frowning.

  “Why are you irritated?” he asked.

  “Do not think this means you have any say in what I do, Julian.”

  He smiled. “Don’t be irritated. When a man takes a virgin, he cannot help but look forward to all the delightful things he’s going to teach her.”

  She bit her lip, but she could not hide the pleasure his words seemed to bring her. “Have you taken so many virgins, then?”

  “You are my first.”

  “Was that your first fight earlier tonight?”

  He propped his head on his arm, letting his fingers play on her belly.

  “You’re distracting me,” she accused, even as she began to tremble.

  “No, just unable to keep my hands off you. As for fighting, no, it was not my first. I studied boxing for many years, but I haven’t had a real fight since reaching adulthood.”

  “Did you fight as a child?”

  “Occasionally.”

  She stopped his caresses. “What reason could you possibly have for such behavior? You do not strike me as the kind who goes looking for a fight.”
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  “But others are, and I am not the kind to back down.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” she said dryly.

  He chuckled.

  “Did the other boys…tease you?”

  He removed his hand from hers and continued his exploration of the damp under curve of her breast. “It was long ago, Rebecca.”

  “If they teased you because of your family’s problems, that is just terrible. Where were…their parents?”

  Her breathing started to hitch as his fingers climbed the hill of her breast.

  “Children cannot always be under watchful eyes,” he said. “But perhaps you don’t know about that.”

  Her eyelids fluttered as he lazily circled her nipple, but she managed to say, “No, I didn’t play with other children much. Who…taught you that fighting…doesn’t solve problems?”

  She wasn’t distracted enough, so he bent down and breathed on her nipple. It puckered even more, and he felt the same sense of satisfaction he might equate with buying a company, strange as that seemed. He licked the tip of Rebecca’s breast as if it were sweet candy. She moaned.

  “Oh, yes. Can we do this again?” she whispered.

  He was determined to take his time. He caressed and teased her breasts with his mouth and fingers until she was shivering and restless.

  “Julian, please, I need—more!”

  He laughed against her skin, letting his hand part her thighs and begin an exploration. She was soft and moist, and so very heated. He could barely keep himself from plunging inside. But she wanted to learn about everything, and he would teach her this.

  He caressed the recesses of her body, dipping his fingers in and out of her, taking deep delight in her whimpers, and the way she clung to him. He watched her face when he gave her another orgasm, then pulled her on top of him until she straddled his hips. Her hair cascaded about both their bodies just as he’d fantasized. She sat on him, a bit dazed, but her hazel eyes began to show her interest.