Desire Never Dies

by Jenna Petersen

  If his body hadn’t told her that, his hands would have when they started to move. He inched his fingers up her side, sliding in a slow, seductive trail until he teased the curve of her breast. He shoved the ridiculous ruffles aside to cup the mound and his thumb began to circle her nipple through the fabric.

  Ana gasped, breaking the kiss as a shot of hot want blasted from the tip of her nipple and settled between her legs. Dear God, how had he done that? It was like he set her on fire, awoke her long sleeping senses. She should stop him.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she let her eyes flutter shut and expelled her breath in a long, jagged sigh.

  Suddenly the swirling pleasure of his thumb stopped, the rock of his hips stopped. Everything stopped. She opened her eyes to find his face just inches from hers. He was staring at her, gaze wild and intense in the shadowy, filtered light of the trees.

  Shaking his head, he pulled back. “You see, Ana? A marriage between us could never be one of convenience. If we were married, we would have passion. Desire. Everything in your kiss tells me that. The way you react to my touch confirms it.”

  He pulled away, breaking the embrace as he ran a hand through his hair. Ana continued to lean back against the tree, her trembling legs unable to move as she watched him put more distance between them.

  She hadn’t wanted him to stop. It was wrong. It went against everything she had told herself she was. But there it was. The truth, like it or not.

  “Take me back,” she murmured, smoothing her twisted ruffles into place. She lifted her chin and hoped he wouldn’t see how shaken she was. “You have proven your point, so take me home.”

  Lucas stared at her for a long moment, his gaze focused on her own with disconcerting vision and clarity. Then he gave her a formal bow.

  “Whatever the lady desires.”

  Chapter 11

  L ucas watched Ana disappear into her home and slam the door behind her. She hadn’t even allowed him to get out of the carriage and escort her. Not that he blamed her after what had happened in the park.

  He hadn’t intended for the kiss to go so far. Well, perhaps he had, but not in such a public place. And he certainly hadn’t intended to lose control of himself. He’d only wished to test Anastasia’s boundaries.

  Instead, he’d put her against a tree and nearly rutted with her in full view of a hundred or more of Society’s finest.

  And what had he been thinking going on and on about marriage? He rubbed a hand over his face. A real marriage? Why in the world would he want that? His relationships with women had always been about pleasure. Brief and satisfying, yet easily forgotten.

  Yes, he resented the hell out of Ana’s lingering devotion to Saint Gilbert…a man who had not even bothered to ensure his wife was taken care of after his untimely death. But Ana thought the damned moon and sun set over his grave! Still, irritation over her continued commitment to a corpse was one thing, but trying to prove he would be a perfect substitute by groping her in the middle of the park at five in the afternoon was quite another.

  “Idiot,” Lucas muttered to himself as the carriage halted at his doorstep. He pushed open the door and climbed down. He needed a willing woman. Or a cold bath. Or anything that would get his mind off Ana and back on the case where it belonged.

  His butler opened the door. “Good afternoon, sir.”

  “Is it?” Lucas growled as he shrugged out of his coat and handed it to the man.

  “Sir, you have—”

  “Not now.” Lucas waved him off and started down the hallway toward his office.

  “But Mr. Tyler—” The man was at his heels, insistent.

  Lucas came to a sharp halt and turned on the man with barely repressed fury. “What is it?”

  “Your mother is here, sir. Waiting for you. And she seems rather annoyed by—”

  Before he could finish, Lucas’s mother’s own voice pierced the quiet of the hallway. “Lucas Ian St. John Tyler.”

  Lucas winced as he turned toward the parlor. His mother stood in the doorway, arms folded. Though she was only five feet tall, she actually terrified him more than any traitor. Especially when she used all his names.

  He smiled. She did not return the expression. She had the “you have a lot of explaining to do” look in her eyes. The same one she’d had over many years and countless pranks.

  “Mother, I thought you were in Bath enjoying the waters with Aunt Grace for at least another two weeks.”

  He stepped forward to place a kiss on her cheek before he motioned to the parlor. Closing the door behind them, he faced her. She still had her arms folded. That was a very bad sign.

  “I would have been doing just that, except that I heard some news. About an engagement.” Her eyes, slate gray like his own, narrowed. “How long did you intend to keep your family in the dark?”

  Lucas swallowed. Plan for all contingencies. That was a golden rule for spies. Be prepared for everything. Only…he wasn’t. Not for this. Not for the little light that brightened her eyes, pushing away her annoyance and revealing itself as hope. Joy.

  “Mother—” he began.

  “Oh, never mind! You are hopeless and I love you for it.” She opened her arms and enveloped him in a hug. “I won’t lie and say I’m not pleased, even if I was shocked by the news at first. But I’ve heard nothing but good about Lady Whittig. I recall a little about her from before her first marriage.”

  He blinked, his world spinning. This was a very bad thing. Very, very bad. He couldn’t explain the truth about the ruse without outing himself as a spy. He could only imagine his mother’s reaction to that news. She’d always been protective. She’d probably have an apoplexy if she knew he was shot at on a regular basis.

  “And now that we are all here, we will meet her and—”

  He hadn’t thought it possible, but his heart sank even further into the depths of his stomach.

  “All?” he repeated weakly.

  She nodded. “Of course! Your brothers and sisters and their wives and husbands are all very anxious to meet the woman who has finally captured your attention for more than ten minutes together. I think Peter and Martin may actually have a wager of some kind about when you would marry, so you’ll make one of them very happy, indeed.”

  She laughed at the idea, and Lucas couldn’t help but smile. He was certain his two older brothers did have some kind of bet. With his luck, they’d involved his brothers-in-law, as well. And his two older sisters were no doubt knitting baby booties for his future children already.

  “When is the earliest date we can arrange for a family dinner party?” his mother asked.

  Lucas opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. There was no use arguing with her. His mother would have her way. His thoughts drifted to Anastasia’s widow’s weeds and outdated clothing. He couldn’t bring her into his mother’s home looking like that. Not without rousing suspicion.

  “Lucas?” His mother tilted her head. “Is there something wrong? You’re just staring at me, darling, and you have the strangest pale fishy face just now.”

  “Three days,” he said, hoping he could manage to do what he needed to do before that time. “She will meet the family in three days.”

  His mother nodded, satisfied, at least for the moment. “Very good. Now I must return to Huntington Circle. The servants are in an uproar at my early return, and now we have a lovely party to plan. I shall send along all the details by tomorrow afternoon.”

  She pressed a kiss on his cheek as she moved for the doorway. Meeting his eyes, she said, “I so want to see you happy, my dearest. I hope this marriage will do that.”

  He smiled, though he guessed the expression was somewhat pained. In the field he could cover his heart without even trying. But with his mother, his family, he had never mastered that ability. “I will see you very soon.”

  She waved as she slipped away. As soon as he was sure she was gone, out in her carriage being whisked off to make God knew what kind of diabolical plans, L
ucas threw the parlor door open.

  “Wallis! I need a modiste. The best modiste in London! And I need her now!”

  Ana set a card down on the rumpled coverlet and grinned at the way Emily’s face scrunched.

  Meredith laughed. “We put her in the field for a couple of weeks and she becomes a conqueror!”

  Emily shook her head as she placed the next card on the pile. “Well, we always said she had hidden talents.”

  Heat filled Ana’s cheeks. “Stop teasing.”

  “Who is teasing?” Meredith asked as she played her next card. “It’s true.”

  “I have yet to accomplish anything on this case to merit your esteem,” Ana argued with a sigh. “I have only managed to get myself into a false engagement that I have no idea how to explain to Gilbert’s family. So I’m hiding from them. I follow Lucas around like a puppy, but he may or may not be keeping me from the biggest details of the case. And I have my questions about the Marquis of Cliffield, but I haven’t found an opening to ask those questions. In all, it isn’t a remarkable beginning.”

  Emily’s stare met hers and held with intensity. “Working a case involves patience as often as it involves adventure. Keep looking for the moment, for the opening. You’ll find it. But for heaven’s sake, don’t be discouraged. I think your theory about tracing the culprit of these attacks by finding out how they are related is a good one.”

  Ana smiled, despite her self-deprecation. “Perhaps today I shall find that precious opening. Lucas sent me a note demanding an audience in…” She looked at the little clock behind Emily. “A quarter of an hour.”

  Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach when she said those words. After that heart-pounding kiss in the park the previous afternoon, she hadn’t heard from Lucas. His cryptic note had her on edge. And so did the fact that every time they were alone of late, it ended in a passionate embrace and the sinking feeling that at some moment she wouldn’t stop him and she would end up in his bed.

  Actually, the feeling that accompanied that inevitability wasn’t particularly sinking. In actuality, it was thrilling. And guilt-inducing. And unexpected.

  “Are you going to play?” Meredith asked.

  Ana looked up to find both her friends staring at her. The two women exchanged a knowing glance before they returned their attention to the game. Ana put down a card.

  “Ha!” Emily played her last. “I win!”

  Meredith shrugged. “Perhaps we let you win because you’re a convalescent.”

  Emily glared at her with mischief sparkling in her eyes before she swung her stare back on Ana. “So…any more kissing you’d like to tell us about?”

  Ana’s heart lurched. “What did you hear?”

  Meredith sat up straighter. “Ha! There has been kissing! Tell us about it.”

  Ana shoved off the bed and turned toward the door. “No kissing!” she cried. “I misspoke. No kissing.”

  Emily laughed. “Too late, we’ll wheedle it out of you eventually, you know.”

  Ana stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder at her two friends. In reality, she knew that comment to be true.

  “Perhaps,” she teased, although the idea gave her little pleasure. “But not today.”

  With that, she closed the door behind her and headed downstairs where she knew Lucas would be waiting in a moment. She entered the parlor where they always seemed to meet and was surprised to be greeted by the very man himself.

  Her heart skipped in a suspect fashion. “Lucas! I didn’t know you’d arrived.”

  He smiled and the skipping turned to throbbing. She really needed to find immunity to that look. Those dimples. Emily was right that he thought they were a weapon.

  “We only just did.”

  “We?” she repeated and only then noticed a middle-aged woman standing beside the fire. When Lucas was around, it seemed her peripheral vision was nonexistent. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  The woman smiled at the two of them. “It’s quite all right, my lady.”

  “Lady Whittig, may I present Miss Catherine Mullany.”

  Ana inclined her head in confusion. The name seemed familiar but she couldn’t place…wait. Catherine Mullany was a modiste. In fact, she was one of the most sought-after dressmakers in London. Meredith and Emily had talked about her.

  She shot Lucas a look. “What’s going on?”

  “Miss Mullany, have Benson take you to…darling, where would you like to be fitted?” He met her stare with an unquestionable message in his eyes. Play along.

  She bit her lip and then did so. “I think Meredith and Emily would like to watch. Miss Mullany, ask Benson to take you to Lady Allington’s chamber. If you have any materials to carry with you, I’m sure he can arrange for that.”

  The woman bobbed out a quick curtsey and exited the room, leaving Ana and Lucas alone.

  The moment the door closed, she backed a step away. “I repeat my earlier question: What is going on? Why is the most sought-after garment maker in the city in my house?”

  “Do you recall how I told you that you must adapt to the changes in a case?” he asked, taking his usual seat by the fire.

  She folded her arms. “Yes.”

  “I’m afraid we are about to face yet another adaptation. You see, my mother and the rest of my family were on holiday in Bath. I had hoped we would be able to finish our investigation before they got wind of our ‘engagement’ but that was not to be. They are now in town and they, er”—he hesitated—“they want to meet you.”

  She stumbled back. “What? When?”

  He shifted. “The day after tomorrow.”

  Her ears began to whoosh with blood until she could hardly hear anything but the throbbing of her own heartbeat.

  “Obviously you cannot meet with them wearing mourning gowns or things that are seasons out of date,” he continued.

  “I cannot meet with them at all!” she argued, pacing away. “You told me yesterday that if anyone was watching us that they would see our engagement is a farce. Well, your family will be watching us, watching me very closely.”

  He came toward her. Reaching out, he caught her hands. The normal flood of desire sprang to life in her body when he touched her, but this time that need was pushed to the background. Something else came to the front.

  Comfort.

  “Ana, you can do this,” he said softly. “Regardless of what I said yesterday, I have seen you merge seamlessly into an act before. I believe in your abilities.”

  She swallowed. Desire and the comfort fled, replaced by a giddy joy and swelling pride. Drat! Perhaps Lucas was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear. Perhaps Emily was correct in her warning that Lucas would use emotions against her.

  Regardless, she couldn’t help a thrill that he saw her as a capable partner. No one, not even her husband, had viewed her in that fashion before. She wanted to live up to it.

  “Then I’ll do it,” she said softly. “If you think I can, then I will.”

  His face softened, and this time it wasn’t a cocky smile, but something more gentle. Something just for her. “I know.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Now, go upstairs and be fitted. I will send you more details about the dinner with my family tomorrow.”

  He pulled away and slipped to the door. There he paused and looked at her one last time before he was gone.

  “You will look beautiful in that one,” Meredith breathed as the modiste held a bolt of crimson fabric up to Ana’s body.

  “It’s so bold!” she protested as she looked at herself in the mirror, fingering the soft material.

  “You should be bold,” Emily argued, shifting on her pillows. “I like it.”

  Ana shrugged and nodded to the woman. Miss Mullany set the fabric on the ever-growing pile Ana had agreed to. She assumed the woman would then choose one color, perhaps two, to design the gown she would wear to meet Lucas’s family.

  She smiled as the dressmaker began to pack up
her things. In actuality, it had been fun to be fitted. She and her friends had giggled like schoolgirls. And Ana had almost forgotten what it was like to choose fabric that wasn’t harsh black or dark gray. What could it hurt to have one dress with color? It was only for the sake of the case, after all.

  “Thank you again for coming to have me fit on such short notice,” Ana said as she rang for footmen to come and fetch the woman’s things.

  The dressmaker smiled. “I will return the day after tomorrow with a new gown for your meeting with Mr. Tyler’s family. And by next week, I shall bring you your new wardrobe in its entirety.”

  Ana came to a stop, her hand frozen at the bell pull. “A new wardrobe? No, that cannot be correct. I only need one gown.”

  Miss Mullany gave her a quick, subtle glance from head to toe that brought a blush to Ana’s cheeks. Clearly, the woman was making note of the severe black of her mourning gown. Lucas was correct when he said her clothing drew attention to her and threw doubt on their courtship.

  “I assure you, my dear, Mr. Tyler was very clear on the point. I have been paid to provide you with a season’s worth of new gowns as soon as I am possibly able.”

  Ana shook her head. “That—that will cost a fortune!”

  The modiste laughed. “For a man as in love as Mr. Tyler seems to be, it is of little matter.”

  The breath left Ana’s lungs as she stared. Lucas, in love with her? Her mouth was suddenly dry and her head spun. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. And now she had to react for her case. Pretend her world wasn’t spinning, tilting off its axis.

  “Mr. Tyler is very kind, indeed.”

  “Very kind,” the other woman agreed. “I will send a messenger to arrange a time for your final fitting tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Good day, Miss Mullany,” Ana choked as the lady moved past her and followed a stream of footmen into the hall.

  The second the door closed, Meredith was on her feet.

  “I saw that,” she said, casting a glance at Emily. “I saw your face when she commented about Lucas being in love with you. Are your emotions becoming involved in this case?”