An Heir of Deception (The Elusive Lords)

by Beverley Kendall

  “Alex.”

  It was a plea that nearly undid him. But he wanted to do this right. To at least satisfy her first. It was clear he’d have to be quick for he didn’t think he could hold on much longer. His cock demanded entry to her snug, slick center.

  “Hold on,” he said hoarsely. In a surprisingly smooth movement given his shaky control, he hooked his hands beneath her knees, hefting her up as he walked them to the bed. But this position pressed his cock directly into her wet core. At the contact, he hissed and nearly dropped her.

  “Damn it, Charlotte.”

  Her eyes were half closed and her mouth looked sweetly ravaged. When his upper thighs hit the edge of the mattress, he dropped her onto the bed and quickly lifted her legs up and apart. The sight of her, pink and wet, nearly undid him then and there.

  With his finger, he traced the moist folds of her center. Excited, he parted her and found the engorged nub at the hood of her sex. He proceeded to toy with it, causing her back to arch off the bed as she moaned and bit her lip.

  Alex simply lost what little control he thought he’d had. “I can’t wait,” he groaned, barely able to speak. With one hand holding her open at the knee, he used the other to guide his cock inside.

  The first probe locked his jaw. His chest shuddered as he saw the head disappear. He caught her other knee in his hand and bore down with his hips. Charlotte’s moans became pants and then whimpers. He slid into her until he was wholly and fully lodged. She felt like heaven, her sex clenching around him tightly.

  “Char. Dear God,” he groaned, briefly closing his eyes.

  “Alex, please.” The look in her eyes, blind with passion, and her quivering pink mouth started him thrusting. He hissed out his pleasure with every stroke.

  “More. Oh, do it faster,” came Charlotte’s breathy command. Her hands, unable to reach him where he stood, feet braced apart on the floor between her legs, clutched fistfuls of the counterpane. She let out a low gasp every time he came into her and whimpered when he pulled out.

  He spread her knees farther apart as his stokes grew faster until he was pounding into her. His release coiled in his belly. The incoherent sounds coming from Charlotte grew louder until she screamed, her hips high off the mattress, her back arched and taut as a bow. Her orgasm set off violent contractions of her inner muscles around his member. With three more hard thrusts as her sex continued to quiver around him, he roared to completion, spilling into her on a wave of ecstasy, eclipsing anything he’d ever experienced before.

  Charlotte lay insensate under Alex’s weight, the hairs on his chest abrading her breasts and belly. It felt divine.

  It took another minute for her to resume normal breathing, which is when Alex rolled from on top of her. He pulled out of her and she immediately missed being connected with him in that way.

  But he didn’t go far. He moved her from the edge of the mattress and arranged her so she was lying flush against him, her back against his hair-roughened chest, his member against her bottom.

  “I’ll make it better for you next time,” he said, his heated breath next to her ear.

  She laughed lightly and pushed the tangle of her hair from her eyes. “I don’t know I’d survive if you made it better.”

  A low laugh rumbled from his throat as he ran his hand over her long, tousled locks. The years apart hadn’t changed this between them. In fact, their lovemaking had only gotten better, more intense.

  “May I ask a question?” he asked after a minute of contented silence.

  Angling her head around to regard him, she replied, “But of course.”

  “What was Nicholas like as a baby?”

  Charlotte shifted in his arms until she faced him. Clasping the narrow indent of her waist, he pulled her until their hips were flush, his member lying just above the nest of hair of her sex. He was already semi-erect.

  “He was a good baby. At four months he was sleeping through the night. By seven months he was crawling and he took his first steps at eleven months.”

  A faint smile curved his mouth; not in anger or sadness, it appeared to be more one of regret. Charlotte looked deeply into his gray eyes and her heart ached for him.

  “And when did he begin to speak?”

  Charlotte found herself laughing softly, remembering the sweet sounds of Nicholas’s baby babble. “The moment he came into the world it felt like. But if you’re speaking of words one could comprehend, I believe that occurred when he was nine months. It’s difficult to remember exactly when.”

  “He’s a wonderful child,” Alex said after a pause.

  Her heart swelled and then lodged itself in her throat. In terms of compliments, it was the greatest he’d ever given her. “Yes he is. And Alex, he thinks you are wonderful too.” Nicholas thought his father hung the sun, the moon and the stars. It did not hurt that Alex was making every attempt to win his son’s affections. Two days ago, he’d begun to teach him to fish.

  Alex swallowed and inhaled a prolonged breath. “Tell me about your life in America.” He spoke quietly and watched her beneath a hooded gaze.

  Lonely and wretched without you, she’d have said was she to be completely honest with him. But burdening him with her feelings of desolation given the circumstances would not be fair.

  “Life there was very quiet. There was always much to do so Jillian and I shared the household chores. I became quite proficient with a needle and learned how to stretch our wardrobes by darning our garments.”

  “Were you happy?” he asked.

  “I could not truly be happy being away from you and my family.” It had taken some time, but eventually, she learned to bury her longings for him—at least during the daylight hours. A daily struggle, to be sure. But it was how she learned to cope.

  “Did you not have close acquaintances? You do not expect me to believe that you, a beautiful, young widow, did not have gentlemen callers.”

  Charlotte wasn’t fooled by the lightness of his tone or his not-so-subtle approach to seek the answer he craved. His gaze was fierce and probing. Possessive.

  Her thoughts went briefly to Lucas. More than anything, she wanted Alex to feel secure in her affections. To that end, the mention of another man, regardless of the platonic nature of their relationship, wasn’t likely to help at this particular juncture.

  “I discouraged them. In any case, I had Nicholas, who required constant attention.”

  Alex’s chest fell beneath her hand and the sound that whistled past his lips closely resembled a sigh of relief. His hold on her tightened as he rolled onto his back. She adjusted by resting her hot cheek on his chest. The steady drum of his heartbeat was loud and comforting in her ear.

  In whispered tones, they spoke under the veil of darkness, discussing her and Nicholas’s life in New York. At one point, he asked if she needed to return. She told him she’d recently written to the leasing agent to inform him she’d be giving up the flat. The furniture could be sold but she’d requested he have her personal items shipped there. This could be achieved with minimal fuss since, uncertain as to when or if they’d be returning, Charlotte had boxed up the remainder of the things she wasn’t taking with her before she left.

  Alex spoke not at all about his life during the same period and Charlotte was wise enough not to ask, fearing the topic would spoil the budding intimacy between them.

  Eventually, their murmured voices gave way to silence. Alex broke it a minute later.

  “Tonight I was careless. I did nothing to prevent pregnancy.”

  Charlotte’s gaze flew to his face. She found it impossible to read his expression. However, she did remember his words, which were like a sharp nick on a not-yet-healed cut.

  Oh, I want more children, I just don’t want them with you.

  The hurt was momentary. She’d not permit it to be anything more. It was much too soon for him to have a complete change of heart on the matter. In time, she prayed he would.

  She looked at him questioningly. Barring abst
inence, the only preventive methods she’d ever heard of were French letters and Dutch caps.

  “You needn’t worry. I shall take care of it in the future. Until then, I shall take care not to spill inside you.” He stroked the length of her arm, his touch both equal parts sensual and soothing.

  A diversion from talk of contraception? Charlotte could only wonder. But what wasn’t at question was how her body responded instantly to him. How her blood thrummed at his touch and the revival of his erection pressing stiff and hot along her inner thigh.

  “I was so eager after so long, I fear I neglected these.” His hands cupped her breasts and began playing with her nipples; lightly pinching, flicking and thumbing them into stiff buds. “I shall do my best to make it up to you,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

  The fire in her blazed back to life as if it hadn’t been doused a short time ago. She was insatiable. She moaned and began kneading the outside of his thighs. Alex grew harder and hotter beneath her.

  In a sudden movement, he went from being under her to over her, his mouth pulling her nipple between his lips. Charlotte’s breath became choppy and she stroked his nape as he suckled her.

  If he was determined to improve on the experience, who was she to stop him?

  When Charlotte awoke the next morning, it was hideously bright. The sun in one of its more generous moods had decided to bless them with its singular presence.

  The evening’s events came instantly to mind and when she gave a lazy stretch, her body’s pleasurable aches and pains further reinforced how deliciously she’d passed the night—and a good portion of the early morning.

  Alex had been insatiable—and admittedly, so had she—taking her three times. The last time had been in the wee hours of the morning when he’d turned her on her side and taken her from behind. But as late as he’d stayed, he must have left her bed frightfully early.

  But the sun proclaimed she had slept well beyond the hours she’d hence been accustomed to. A glance at the clock on the fireplace mantel indicated it was half past ten; she’d been well on her way to sleeping half the day away.

  Alex.

  She smiled at the thought of him. It was hard to believe he was the same man who’d, up until that very day, been determined not to make love to his wife. He was so good at it, his skill unparalleled—not that she had the intimate knowledge to make any comparison, but she knew.

  Another stretch triggered the pleasurable soreness between her thighs. She’d been well and truly ravished.

  Their lovemaking hadn’t only satisfied a five-year longing, but it represented a change in the marriage Alex had so coldly laid out. They could not go back to that arid wasteland. The fire between them blazed hotter than ever before.

  For the first time in too long, contentment seeped from her pores. Of course it would be better if Alex loved her in return. But he had softened, his manner a great deal more tender toward her. Now if they could achieve the same sort of intimacy outside the bedchamber, their marriage would have a chance.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte entered the breakfast room a half hour later and was surprised to find Alex sitting alone at the table reading the newspapers. Their paths rarely crossed in the mornings. When it did it felt like two strangers engaged in a waltz, each ever conscious that one wrong step would upset the precise rhythm of the dance.

  The first thing that struck her when he lowered the paper was his smile. It’d been so long since he’d directed one at her devoid of mockery or derision. She became flustered.

  “I see you’ve finally awoken.” Folding the papers, he placed it on the table before pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. “I thought I’d perish of hunger.”

  It was only then Charlotte noticed that his silver utensils sat unused beside an empty bone white plate.

  “Why have you not eaten?” Surely, he hadn’t been waiting for her to join him.

  His eyes trapped hers in his gaze. “I was waiting for you.”

  As much as Charlotte tried not to read too much into his meaning, it was impossible when he looked at her like that. As if he was remembering every second of the evening they’d spent pleasuring each other.

  “Come, let’s eat.” He gestured toward the sideboard where they proceeded to serve themselves from platters holding thick slices of bacon, scrambled eggs, freshly baked bread and rolls, thick slices of cheese and kippers.

  Once they were both seated, Alex said, “Shall I presume you passed the night agreeably?”

  Charlotte, who had already commenced eating, nearly choked. Her gaze snapped to his. His expression was all feigned innocence.

  The devil.

  It took a moment to recover her composure and swallow. “I passed the night agreeably enough,” she replied primly, suppressing a smile. Two could play at that.

  With a brief nod of dismissal to the footman, when they were finally alone, Alex turned a heavy-lidded gaze back to her. “You do make a lot of noise for a woman who only passed it agreeably enough. You kept me awake with all your panting and moaning.”

  A shock of heat burned her face. Alex now watched her as if breakfast wasn’t the only thing he was hungry for, which had her body instantly responding in kind.

  “You are incorrigible.” As reprimands went, it sadly lacked the proper reproachful tone.

  Alex’s mouth curved into a thoroughly wicked smile. “And you are insatiable. But don’t fret, I shall do my utmost best to ensure you pass tonight far more agreeably.”

  An ice age had passed since Alex last flirted with her, since the full force of his charm had been directed at her.

  “And I shall look forward to your most ardent endeavors.” She spoke with a calmness and bravado she didn’t feel. Fireworks of anticipation were going off inside her.

  Chuckling quietly, Alex commenced eating, his gaze frequently returning to her flushed face.

  Although she’d prayed last night would be a new beginning for them, this morning far exceeded her expectations. Being with him like this felt…right. It reminded her of how they used to be; how he’d once treated her. How special she had felt. How desired and wanted. It made her feel the same way now.

  Alex broke the stretch of amiable silence. “I had your maid take Nicholas to your brother’s until the afternoon. I thought you’d like to accompany me on my tenant visits. They have yet to meet the new marchioness.”

  Charlotte swallowed a mouthful of hot chocolate and placed the cup back in the flowered saucer. She met his stare and something warm passed between them. “I would be happy to accompany you. I would like that very much.”

  Rutherford Manor, Lucas Beaumont would admit, was an impressive piece of architecture.

  So this was where Charlotte had lived before she’d gone to America. He recalled her small and fastidiously clean flat on Willow Street in Manhattan. The two dwellings were worlds apart. Not for the first or second time since he’d made her acquaintance, Lucas wondered what had really driven her from England. Her story of a husband who had succumbed to scarlet fever had never rung true.

  Nonetheless, she’d been gone over a month and the letter she’d promised to send to let him know she and Nicholas arrived safely had never arrived. He was worried.

  He rang the bell of the residence and waited. Seconds later the door was opened by a liveried footman. How the English did love the pomp and ceremony, especially when it came to their servants.

  “Good afternoon, I am looking for Miss Charlotte Rutherford,” Lucas said politely, remembering from his last visit that she went by her maiden name. A fact she’d yet to divulge to him.

  Before the young man could respond, a woman appeared in the foyer behind him.

  “Charlotte.” Lucas smiled, relieved to see her looking so well.

  But as she advanced toward him, he knew she wasn’t Charlotte but her twin, Catherine, whom he’d met on his last trip to England. His feelings immediately shifted from one of friendly warmth to lustful interest.

/>   Miss Catherine halted so abruptly he nearly laughed aloud. Her lips parted and her finely arched brows shot up. He hoped her shock was one of pleasure as he’d been looking forward to seeing her again.

  A moment later, she seemed to catch herself and with a straightening of her spine and tossing back of her shoulders, composed her expression, although she didn’t quite achieve the nonchalance it appeared she strived for.

  “Mr. Beaumont.” There was a slight inflection in her voice where one could have easily taken it as a question even though he knew it was not.

  She quietly dismissed the footman as she approached him, stunning in a blue dress that lovingly adhered to her curves yet left much for the imagination. Lucas still found it surprising that although the sisters were identical in appearance, there was something about this one that had immediately, almost viscerally, affected him in a way he’d not felt before or since.

  “Miss Catherine.” He bowed formally, long familiar with English and how strictly they adhered to the formalities of aristocratic propriety. She hadn’t struck him as that kind of person but when in England, etcetera, etcetera.

  “Mr. Beaumont, wh-what are doing here?” A small, hesitant smile curved a pair of lush, pink lips. “Oh dear, how very rude of me, do come in,” she said, opening the door to admit him.

  Lucas smiled as he entered, finding her forthright manner refreshing. “I am looking for Charlotte.”

  Was it his imagination, or did her smile falter the tiniest little bit? Had she thought he’d come to see her? One could only hope.

  “Charlotte? Does she know you’re in England? I hadn’t thought you’d be back so soon.”

  When Lucas had been in England last, he’d met Miss Catherine at Sir Franklin’s supper party where he’d mistaken her for her sister. But when she’d turned and stared at him blankly, he’d known then Charlotte didn’t just have a sister but an identical twin. Their resemblance was uncanny but discernible if one cared to look very close. He had.