Devils Bride c-1

by Stephanie Laurens

  On one heartbeat, she was the leader, on the next, he resumed command, his lips hard, his body a steel cage surrounding her. A cage she no longer wished to escape. She surrendered, gladly yielding; ravenous, he stole her very breath. Breasts aching, heart thundering, Honoria stole it back.

  Between them, desire smoldered, flared, then exploded, flames licking greedily, devouring all reticence. Honoria gave herself up to them, to the beckoning pleasure, to the thrill of desire, to the urge of molten need.

  She pressed herself against him, flagrantly enticing, hips shifting in unconscious entreaty. Fingers sliding into his thick hair, she reveled in the raw hunger that rose, naked, elemental, between them.

  Their lips parted briefly, for less than a heartbeat; who pressed the next kiss was moot. They were lost together, trapped in the vortex, neither in control, both beyond reason. Hunger welled, swelled; urgency mounted, inexorable, compelling.

  An almighty crash shook them to their senses.

  Devil lifted his head, arms tightening protectively as he looked toward the door. Gasping, literally reeling, Honoria clung to him; dazed, she followed his gaze.

  From beyond the door came sounds of calamity-wails and recriminations exchanged between two maids-then Webster's sonorous tones cut across the commotion, bringing the plaints to an end. The sound of tinkling glass and the scrape of a whisk on the polished boards followed.

  Honoria could barely make out the sounds over the thundering in her ears. Her heart thudded heavily; she had yet to catch her breath. Eyes wide, she looked into Devil's face-and saw the same driving desire, the same inchoate longing gripping her, reflected in his silvered eyes. Flames lit the crystal cores; sparks flew.

  His breathing was as ragged as hers. Every muscle in his body was taut, coiled. Like a spring about to break.

  "Don't-move."

  He bit the words out; his eyes blazed. Light-headed, barely able to drag in her next breath, Honoria didn't even think of disobeying. The planes of his face had never looked so hard, so graven. His eyes held hers steadily; she dared not blink as, rigid, he battled the force that threatened to consume them-the passion she had unleashed.

  Degree by painful degree, the tension holding them decreased. His lids lowered, long lashes veiling the subsiding tempest. Gradually, his locked muscles eased; Honoria breathed again.

  "The next time you do that, you'll end on your back."

  There was no threat in his words; they were a statement of fact.

  Hedonistic, unpredictable-she'd forgotten about the wild. A peculiar thrill shot through Honoria, immediately swamped beneath a tide of guilt. She had seen the effort her naive tactic had cost him; remnants of their passion still shimmered about them, licking at her nerves, shivering over her skin. His lids slowly rose; she met his gaze unflinchingly.

  And put up a hand to touch his cheek. "I didn't know-"

  Turbulence engulfed them as he brusquely drew back.

  "Don't-" His features hardened; his gaze transfixed her. "Go. Now."

  Honoria looked into his eyes-and obeyed. She stepped out of his arms; they fell from her but not readily. With one last, hesitant glance, she turned away; head high, shaken to her toes, she left him.

  The three days that followed were the hardest Honoria had ever faced. Distracted, her nerves permanently on edge, her stomach a hard knot of reaction, she struggled to find some way out of the impasse that faced her. Hiding her state from the Dowager left her drained, yet being alone was not a desirable alternative; once free, her mind dwelled incessantly on what she had seen, what she had felt, what she had learned in the morning room.

  Which only added to her distraction.

  Her only consolation was that Devil seemed as distracted as she. By mutual consent, they met each other's eyes but briefly; each touch-when he took her hand or she placed it on his arm-rocked them both.

  He'd told her from the first that he wanted her; she hadn't understood what he meant. Now she knew-instead of frightening her or shocking her, the physical depth of his need thrilled her. She gloried in it; at some fundamental level, her heart positively sang.

  Which left her feeling exceedingly wary.

  She was standing before her sitting-room window, mulling over her state, when a knock fell on the door.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She straightened. "Come."

  The door swung inward; Devil stood on the threshold. He raised a brow at her.

  Honoria raised a brow back.

  Lips thinning, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. His expression was unreadable-not impassive so much as deliberately uninformative.

  "I'm here to apologize."

  Honoria met his gaze steadily, certain the word "apologize" rarely passed his lips. Her feelings took flight, only to plummet a second later. Her stomach hollow, her heart in her throat, she asked: "For what?

  His quick frown was genuinely puzzled, then it evaporated; his gaze grew hard. "For appropriating Celestine's bill." His tone made it clear that if she wished for an apology for what had transpired in the morning room, she'd be waiting until hell froze.

  Honoria's unruly heart sang. She fought to keep a silly-totally unnecessary-smile from her lips. "So you'll give me the bill?"

  He studied her eyes, then his lips compressed. "No."

  Honoria stared. "Why apologize if you won't give me the bill?"

  For a long moment, he looked at her, frustration seeping into his expression. "I'm not apologizing for paying Celestine's account-I am apologizing for stepping on your independent toes-that was not my intention. But as you so rightly pointed out, the only reason such a bill would cross my desk was if you, as my wife, had referred it to me." His lips twisted. "I couldn't resist."

  Honoria's jaw nearly dropped; rescuing it in time, she swallowed a gurgle of laughter. "You signed it… pretending to be my husband?" She had to struggle to keep a straight face.

  The aggravation in Devil's eyes helped. "Practicing to be your husband."

  Abruptly, Honoria sobered. "You needn't practice that particular activity on my account. I'll pay my bills, whether I marry you or not."

  Her crisp "or not" hung between them; Devil straightened and inclined his head. "As you wish." His gaze wandered to the landscape above the fireplace.

  Honoria narrowed her eyes at his profile. "We have yet to come to terms over this bill you inadvertently paid, Your Grace."

  Both description and honorific pricked Devil on the raw. Bracing one arm along the mantelpiece, he trapped Honoria's gaze. "You can't seriously imagine I'll accept recompense-monetary recompense-from you. That, as you well know, is asking too much."

  Honoria raised her brows. "I can't see why. If you'd paid a trifling sum for one of your friends, you'd allow them to repay you without fuss."

  "The sum is not trifling, you are not 'one of my friends,' and in case it's escaped your notice, I'm not the sort of man to whom a woman can confess to being conscious of owing every stitch she has on, to him, and then expect to be allowed to pay him back."

  Honoria's silk chemise suddenly grew hot; tightening her arms over her breasts, she tilted her chin. His conqueror's mask, all hard planes and ironclad determination, warned her she would win no concessions on that front. Searching his eyes, she felt her skin prickle. She scowled. "You… devil!"

  His lips twitched.

  Honoria took two paces into the room, then whirled and paced back. "The situation is beyond improper-it's outrageous!"

  Pushing away from the mantelpiece, Devil raised an arrogant brow. "Ladies who dice with me do find situations tend to end that way."

  "I," Honoria declared, swinging to face him and meeting his eyes, "am far too wise to play games with you. We need some agreement over this bill."

  Devil eyed her set face, and inwardly cursed. Every time he glimpsed a quick escape from the dilemma his uncharacteristically fanciful self-indulgence had landed him in, she blocked it. And demanded he negotiate. Didn't she realize she was the besieged and h
e the besieger? Evidently not.

  From the moment he'd declared his intention to wed her, she'd flung unexpected hurdles in his path. He'd overcome each one and chased her into her castle, to which he'd immediately laid siege. He'd succeeded in harrying her to the point where she was weakening, considering opening her gates and welcoming him in-when she'd stumbled on his moment of weakness and turned it into a blunt weapon. Which she was presently wielding with Anstruther-Wetherby stubbornness. His lips thinned. "Can't you overlook it? No one knows about it other than you and me."

  "And Celestine."

  "She's not going to alienate a valuable customer."

  "Be that as it may-"

  "Might I suggest," Devil tersely interpolated, "that, considering the situation between us, you could justifiably set the matter of this bill aside, to be decided after your three months have elapsed? Once you're my duchess, you can justifiably forget it."

  "I haven't yet agreed to marry you."

  "You will."

  Honoria heard the absolute decree in his words. She eyed his stony face, then raised one brow. "I can hardly accept a proposal I haven't heard."

  Conquerors didn't make polite requests; his instinct was to seize what he wanted-the more he wanted, the more forceful the seizure. Devil looked into her eyes, calmly watching, calmly waiting; he read the subtle challenge in her face, the underlying stubbornness in the tilt of her chin. How much did he want this prize?

  He drew a deep breath, then stepped closer and reached for her hand; his eyes on hers, he brushed his lips across her fingertips. "My dear Honoria Prudence, will you do me the honor of being my wife, my duchess-" He paused, then deliberately added: "The mother of my children?"

  Her gaze flickered; she looked away. Placing one fingertip under her chin, Devil turned her face back.

  After a fractional hesitation, Honoria lifted her lids and met his eyes. "I haven't yet made up my mind." He might not be able to lie-she could. But he was too potent a force to surrender to without being absolutely certain. A few more days would give her time to check her decision.

  He held her gaze; between them, passion lingered, shivering in the air.

  "Don't take too long."

  The words, uttered softly, could have been a warning or a plea. Retrieving her fingers from his clasp, Honoria lifted her chin free of his touch. "If I married you, I would want to be assured no incident similar to the present contretemps would occur again."

  "I've told you I'm not daft." Devil's eyes glinted. "And I'm certainly no advocate of self-torture."

  Ruthlessly, Honoria suppressed her smile.

  The planes of Devil's face shifted; he caught her hand. "Come for a drive."

  "One more point…" Honoria held firm. She met the aggravation in his eyes, and tried not to feel the warmth, the seductive strength in the fingers and palm clasping hers. "Tolly's murder."

  Devil's jaw firmed. "I will not let you involve yourself in the search for his killer."

  Honoria met his gaze directly; again, she sensed their wills locking, this time without heat. "I wouldn't need to actively search for clues if you told me what you and your cousins discover as soon as you discover it." She'd exhausted all avenues open to her; she needed his cooperation to go on.

  He frowned, then looked away; she'd started to wonder what he was thinking before he looked back. "I'll agree on one condition."

  Honoria raised her brows.

  "That you promise that under no circumstances whatever will you personally go searching for Tolly's killer."

  Honoria promptly nodded. Her ability to come up with any male felon was severely limited by the social code; her contribution to the investigation would have to be primarily deductive. "So what did Lucifer learn?"

  Devil's lips thinned. "I can't tell you."

  Honoria stiffened.

  "No!" He squeezed her hand. "Don't rip up at me-I said 'can't,' not 'won't.'"

  Honoria narrowed her eyes. "Why 'can't'?"

  Devil searched her face, then looked down at their linked hands. "Because what Lucifer learned casts a far from flattering light on one of the family, probably Tolly. Unfortunately, Lucifer's information was rumor-we've yet to establish the facts." He studied her slim digits entwined with his, then tightened his grip and looked up. "However, if Tolly was involved, then it suggests a possible scenario whereby someone-someone capable of the act or of procuring the same-might have wanted him dead."

  Honoria noted the fastidiousness that had crept into his expression. "It's something disreputable, isn't it?" She thought of Louise Cynster.

  Slowly, Devil nodded. "Exceedingly disreputable."

  Honoria drew in a long breath-then gasped as a tug set her on course for the door.

  "You need some air," Devil decreed. He shot her a glance, then admitted through clenched teeth: "So do I."

  Towed in his wake, Honoria grinned. Her gown was too thin, but she could don her pelisse at the front door. She had won a host of concessions; she could afford to be magnanimous. The day was fine; her heart was light. And her wolf had reached the end of his tether.

  Chapter 13

  "I make it 334." Honoria restacked the lists in her lap and started counting again.

  His gaze on her profile, Devil raised his brows. They were in the morning room, Honoria at one end of the chaise while he sprawled elegantly at the other; she was adding up the acceptances for the grand ball his aunt Horatia was to host in Berkeley Square the next night, to declare the family out of mourning. Smiling, Devil retrieved a list from the floor. "That's a goodly number for this time of year. The weather's put back the shooting, so many have stayed in town. Like Chillingworth-it appears my aunt has seen fit to invite him."

  "He is an earl." Honoria glanced up, frowned, then reached over and tugged at the list. "But I gather you've known him forever."

  "It certainly seems like forever. We were at Eton together."

  "Rivals from your earliest years?"

  "I wouldn't class Chillingworth as a rival-more like a nuisance."

  Honoria looked down, hiding her grin. Devil had taken to joining her in the morning room in the post-luncheon hour during which the Dowager habitually rested. He would stay for half an hour, long limbs disposed in the opposite corner of the chaise, his presence filling the room, dominating her senses. They would chat; if he had information from his cousins, he would tell her, simply and straightforwardly, without evasion.

  From her own efforts, she'd learned nothing more. The Dowager had fulfilled her stated intention of introducing her to the ton; through a mind-numbing round of morning calls, "at-homes," and afternoon teas, she had met all the major hostesses and been accepted as one of their circle. But in all the gossip and scandalmongering abounding amongst the female half of the ton, not a single scrap had she heard regarding Tolly.

  She looked up. "Have you heard anything?"

  "As it happens, I have." Honoria opened her eyes wide; Devil's lips quirked wryly. "Don't get your hopes up, but Demon's back."

  "Did he find Tolly's man?"

  "Yes. Mick remembered that last night clearly-Tolly, to use Mick's words, was 'in a right spate' when he came in. Unfortunately, Tolly refused to tell him anything concerning the who, the why, or the what."

  Honoria frowned. "Refused?"

  "Mick-being Mick-asked."

  "And?"

  "Uncharacteristically got told, in no uncertain terms, to mind his own business."

  "That was odd?"

  Devil nodded. "Mick had been with Tolly since Tolly was in shortcoats. If he was troubled over something, the most likely occurrence is that Tolly would have talked it over, without reservation, with Mick."

  "So." Honoria considered. "What sort of secret would Tolly refuse to discuss with Mick?"

  "That, indeed, is the question." His gaze on her face, on the slight frown disturbing the sweeping arch of her brows, Devil added: "Along with the puzzle of the time."

  "The time?"

  "That night, Tolly
got in less than an hour after he left Mount Street."

  They'd assumed Tolly had been out half the night, at some function at which he'd learned the secret that led to his death. Honoria's frown deepened. "Is Mick sure?"

  "Positive-he remembers particularly as he hadn't expected Tolly back so soon."

  Honoria nodded. "How far is it from Mount Street to Tolly's lodgings?"

  "His lodgings were in Wigmore Street-about twenty minutes from my uncle's house."

  "Was there any particular house-of a friend, perhaps-where he might have stopped along the way?"

  "Nothing directly in his path. And none close that we haven't checked. None of his friends saw him that night."

  Honoria caught Devil's eye. "How does such a short time fit with Lucifer's discreditable rumor?"

  "Not well." Devil hesitated, then added, "It doesn't rule it out, but it makes it unlikely. If Tolly had gone-" He broke off, then continued: "If what we thought had happened, then it most likely happened at some earlier date, which doesn't explain why Tolly only got agitated after he left Mount Street."

  Studying his face, more revealing now that he didn't guard his expression in her presence, Honoria inwardly frowned. He remained disturbed by the discreditable rumor, even though it might now be unlinked to Tolly's death. "What is it?"

  Devil looked up, then grimaced. "It's merely that, as the head of the family, I don't appreciate the idea of some skeleton not safely locked in a cupboard."

  Honoria's lips softened; she looked away.

  They sat silent for some minutes, Honoria puzzling over the questions Mick's recollections had raised, Devil outwardly relaxed, his gaze, gently pensive, resting on her face. Then Honoria looked at Devil. "Have you told the others?"

  "They were on the doorstep with Demon. While I wrestle with our discreditable rumor, they're trying to shake information from any tree they can find. Richard and Demon have gone after the local jarveys; Gabriel, believe it or not, is hobnobbing with street sweepers. Vane and Lucifer are combing the likeliest taverns in the hope they might stumble upon some drunk who saw where Tolly went."