An Heir of Deception (The Elusive Lords)

by Beverley Kendall

  The time he’d spent with her over the past weeks had given a whole new meaning to the term sweet torture. She moved like a dream and possessed a sensual allure few men could resist. He certainly hadn’t been able nor wanted to.

  “I didn’t know you had come.” She smiled and it was that sweet, shy sort of smile that did things to his insides. Softened the hardness there.

  “Actually, I was on my way out. I just called to say goodbye.”

  Her smile became less certain. “Oh.”

  “I have business in London today.”

  “Will—will you be coming back?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, I am due back home the week after next so from London, I’ll be returning to America.”

  Pain flickered in her eyes and he wanted to smash something. “I see.” She drew in a breath and fixed a smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well then I shall wish you a safe passage back.”

  God, how he hated this. Hated himself in that very moment. She was hurt and there was nothing he could say that would make it better. Charlotte had said if his intentions were marriage, she would go back and plead her case with her husband. But he’d only spent the better part of two weeks in Catherine’s company. He’d kissed her the one time—and what a kiss it had been. Yes, he was strongly attracted to her but he couldn’t truthfully tell Charlotte he planned to marry her. The things separating them were too many.

  “Catherine—”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Beaumont.” When she spoke her voice was too civil and much too polite to be anything but a dismissal.

  “Goodbye, Catherine,” he said softly, feeling more than a twinge of regret for what might have been under different circumstances.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Did you see him today?”

  Charlotte started at the roughness of Alex’s voice when she walked in to her bed chambers that evening.

  She’d come back to the house around midday to find he’d yet to return. She’d consumed—although just barely—a solitary supper in the dining room and had spent the last hour with Nicholas getting him off to sleep. He’d demanded she read him two stories instead of the customary one.

  “Alex. When did you come home?”

  “Answer my question. Did you see your Mr. Beaumont today?”

  He sat reclined in the chair by the fireplace, hands folded across his chest and a necktie draped loosely about his neck. He’d removed his coat, which hung over the back of the chair, and his unbuttoned waistcoat revealed a wrinkled, pale blue shirt beneath. A day’s growth of whiskers shadowed the angular planes of his jaw. In a word, he looked a rumpled mess.

  Charlotte knew she needed to tread with undue care. “Yes, when I called on Catherine this morning, Lucas was there but not at my invitation. However, Lucas is gone now. He’s back in London and from there he will be returning to America. He came by my brother’s house to say goodbye.”

  Alex uncrossed his arms and sat up higher in the chair. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did he leave?” He asked as if he already knew the answer.

  Charlotte swallowed hard. “Because I asked him to.”

  “And why did you ask him to leave? You yourself said I was being unreasonable as he was just a friend. Why did you ask him to go if there was nothing going on between you?”

  “Because I realized how unfeeling I’ve been. And today, I saw the effect with my own eyes. Saw that having him here was tearing you apart. And I simply couldn't stand to see you hurting like that.” The words felt torn from her throat, acrid and raw like her emotions.

  Alex stared at her and then cast his gaze off in the distance. Clasping his hands between his legs, he started speaking in a low voice fraught with emotion. “All those years, he had everything that was mine. My wife. My child. Everything. He knows things about my son I do not. Things I have yet to learn. Things I should know.”

  “Oh Alex, it wasn’t like that at all. He never had me and Nicholas knows Lucas isn’t really a relation. Your son loves you, his father. Nothing will change that.” Charlotte vowed she wouldn’t fall apart, but the edge was but a short step away.

  Alex turned his attention back to her and rose from the chair.

  “Did you tell him you loved me and only me? Did you tell him that you and Nicholas belong here with me?” he asked as he approached her, something dark and dangerous in his stormy gray eyes.

  And just like that, the hum of sexual energy that had always existed between them became a roar. Like a storm that had been building for days, it rushed in with gale force winds.

  His hand snaked out and snatched her to him, their bodies meeting like a magnet to the most powerful force field. His mouth all but crashed down on hers, but she welcomed the kiss, parting her lips for the sinewy thrust of his tongue.

  He made quick work of her clothes, impatiently divesting her of her day dress and petticoats, without once removing his mouth from hers.

  Charlotte drew his tongue into her mouth and proceeded to ravish it as he’d often done to her, eliciting a groan from him that originated deep in his throat. He tasted like brutish male strength and mint, and the scent of his cologne made her briefly think of heather in the spring. But he wouldn’t be conquered for too long, taking the kiss back under his control by drugging her with licks, swipes and long, thorough strokes of his tongue.

  Impatient, Alex finally broke the kiss to tug her silk chemise over her head. Her nipples puckered the second the cool air touched them. He instantly warmed them, cupping them in his large hands, where they pebbled further under his toying fingers.

  “Oh God, Charlotte,” Alex said hoarsely, staring down at her breasts, his eyes glazed with passion. Ducking his head, he touched her nipple with the tip of his tongue and slowly, with the fierce concentration of a child trying to paint within the lines, rimmed the rosy, ruched perimeter. A charring sensation coursed from her breast to her core, where she grew moist with need.

  Suddenly, her head felt too heavy for her neck to support and she could do little else but sag forward, resting her forehead on the top of his head. She ran her fingers through the weight of his hair, tugging on the dark strands, urging his mouth closer. He was doing nothing but teasing her with his light caresses. She wanted him to take her in his mouth.

  “Alex,” she said, his name a breathless whimper. Why must he tease her like this? He knew what she wanted.

  His only response was to transfer his attentions to her other breast, the stroke of his tongue on her nipple as if he had all night and wasn’t in a rush.

  Impatient and growing frustrated by the moment, Charlotte ground her hips against his and pressed hard on the back of his head to push her breast into his mouth. He emitted something between a grunt and a groan before finally drawing her nipple firmly between his lips. He began to suckle as he pressed his erection hard into the giving softness between her thighs.

  Charlotte thought she would expire, the pleasure he ignited within her so intense it made her dizzy. God, how she wanted him inside her and clenched her inner walls in anticipation of his possession.

  “Alex,” she said, nearly sobbing his name.

  With one last delicious draw on her nipple, Alex stood up straight. His slumberous eyes devoured her as he began pulling off his clothes.

  Eager to aid him in his efforts, Charlotte reached out but he retreated a step, denying her the pleasure.

  “My need is too great. If you touch me now, we won’t make it to the bed.”

  “I don’t care,” she moaned, blind with need. She stepped forward and reached for him again.

  This time he took two steps back. His waistcoat dropped to the floor and seconds later, his shirt joined the growing heap at his feet. “No, believe me. It is better this way. Once we start, I won’t let you up until dawn. I want you comfortable.”

  His words, the hungry grumble of his voice and the lustful intent in his eyes caused another flood of moisture between her thighs. But heeding his w
ish, Charlotte stepped from the circle of silk and satin of her discarded gown and underclothes, and wearing a pair of pale pink stockings and garters, slid onto the bed behind her.

  If she had to be content to merely watch him, she may as well do so in style and torture him just a little for his neglect. On her back, she scooted into the middle of the bed, propped herself up on her arms and allowed her legs to fall open just a little.

  But enough.

  Alex’s expletive rent the air. Then in a flurry of movement, he pulled off his trousers and drawers. All this he did with his eyes locked on the one place on her currently demanding his undivided attention.

  When he was fully unclothed, Charlotte pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and ran her tongue along the fleshy inside as she took in his thick erection straining against the hard, ridged flesh of his stomach where an arrow of dark hair thickened.

  “You are playing with fire,” he warned softly as he stalked toward her.

  “I want you.” It was as simple as that. And tonight she was going to get what she wanted.

  Bracing his hands on the edge of the mattress, Alex levered himself above her. Charlotte dropped onto her back. She expected him to begin kissing her again, but he had other tortures in mind for her. The first kiss landed on the concave of her stomach. From there he proceeded down and farther down. The swirls of his tongue on the skin just above her center had her clutching the bed sheets in her hands and panting as if she’d covered the distance from the town square back home at a dead run.

  “Alex,” she pleaded but she wasn’t precisely sure what she was pleading for. Relief. Yes, that’s what she craved; relief from the need clawing at her insides.

  “Shhh, my love, I’m coming to that.” She could feel his breath at the heart of her. Then she felt the stroke of his tongue there and her body felt cleaved in two, the pleasure staggering. Her hips shot up, her body reacting as if struck by a bolt of lightning. She heard a woman cry out; the sound of someone being ravaged by pleasure.

  Alex’s shoulders shook. Was he laughing? Apparently pleased with himself was he? When he began licking her, toying with the folds of her sex, Charlotte lost all sense of reality, sent adrift into her own sensual world.

  The pleasure built as he licked and sucked, parting her to delve into the very heart of her. She had no control of her body, her hips jerking, twisting and then undulating in time with how he was loving her. When he lashed the hard nub at the hood of her sex with his tongue, the culmination of need and want sent her rocketing toward release, and she was soaring.

  It had been a little more than two weeks since he’d had her last and the need in him was ferocious. His cock was so hard it could split rocks. Surely a man could perish if the pain of this became too much to bear.

  Charlotte lay beneath him, her body slack and replete with satisfaction, her breathing labored. She looked beautiful, her breasts reddened by his attentions, her lips swollen and tender from his kisses.

  She was his and she’d never leave him again. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d follow her right to the gates of hell if he must for he knew his life would be nothing without her.

  Crawling from between her spread legs, Alex tamped down his voracious hunger, intent on bringing her to pleasure again. He started with her sweet mouth, the kiss drugging his senses and twisting his insides. Her tongue joined his in sensual play, her teeth nipping his bottom lip and then soothing it with the slash of her tongue.

  Her hands kneaded his shoulders and then he felt her fingernails scraping down his chest until it came to his cock. She wrapped her hand eagerly around his length.

  “Charlotte.” It was a cry for mercy. It was a plea to continue.

  She began stroking him, her touch wicked and right.

  “No more,” he groaned, grasping both her hands and pinning them above her head. “I won’t last if you do that.”

  “Make love to me,” she said in a throaty voice and almost unmanned him by wrapping her legs around his hips, leaving her open to him. His for the taking. And with a helpless groan, he took. With unerring precision, he slid into her sleek heat.

  Snug and wet, she clamped on to him and he was certain he’d died and gone to heaven. The need to ride her hard was overwhelming. But he wanted to make it good for her.

  Teeth gritted, he pulled out and then pushed slowly back in. Oh God, the most exquisite pleasure coursed through him.

  “Harder,” she moaned, her head twisting helplessly against the bed sheets. The moment he released her hands, she wrapped them about his neck to pull him closer. Her mouth found the sensitive spot behind his ear and he was lost.

  He gave her precisely what she asked for, taking her hard, his hips pummeling her like the frantic beat of a drum. She arched up to meet his downward strokes, gasping, urging him on.

  The end came soon after, his groan, low and hoarse, signaled his release, which was the stuff of legends, decimating his insides as the inner walls of her sex milked him.

  She let out something between a gasp and a shriek, her back bowed and taut. Seconds later, she collapsed limp and sated.

  “Oh God, Charlotte,” he said, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “God how I missed you.” There he’d said it, and in the process, laid his heart bare for her to see.

  Her arms instantly tightened about his neck. “Oh Alex, I love you. I love you. I never once stopped loving you. Ever.”

  Her body shuddered and he knew she was crying.

  Alex lifted his head and stared down at her tear-stained face. “Shh, darling, don’t cry.” He kissed her gently on the lips. Her mouth opened to his instantly and soon the kiss of comfort he’d meant to give turned into something else all too soon, quickly giving way to another torrid, mutually satisfying joining.

  Although they’d made love many times, this was the first morning she’d awoken beside him, his arms about her waist, her bottom pressed up against his thick member.

  The closed curtains effectively kept morning at bay, shrouding the room in darkness but Charlotte could sense dawn hovered minutes away.

  She thought Alex was still asleep until his hand softly stroked her stomach and began the climb to her breast. There he fondled the soft under curve before he caught her nipple between his fingers, where he teased and plucked until it pebbled in interest.

  Charlotte bit down on her lip and hummed her pleasure, her bottom pressing back to rub against his growing erection.

  “I didn’t think you were awake,” she said and released a low whimper.

  “I was waiting for you to wake up so I could do this.” His hand abandoned her breast for the place between her thighs.

  “No, we can’t,” she said, even as she parted her legs to permit him more access to where she was already growing wet with need.

  Alex kissed the column of her throat, his fingers strumming a wicked tune on her moist female flesh. “Why not?”

  “Most mornings, Nic-Nicholas comes in the moment he wakes. And he-he usually awakens very early.” It was hard to speak with his fingers plying her flesh, delving, coaxing a wanton response from her. Speak? She could barely think.

  “Let your maid take care of him.”

  No sooner had he spoken, when she heard the door to the suite open. Nicholas was there, which meant they had seconds to make themselves decent.

  Moving faster than she had since she’d had to scramble to catch her son from falling down the first floor stairs when he was two years, Charlotte hurriedly thrust Alex’s hand from between her legs and yanked the counterpane to cover their naked bodies.

  “Mama, I’m hungry,” Nicolas called out, not yet in the bed chamber.

  Charlotte could only thank God the curtains were drawn. Alex had left the bed and was scrambling into his trousers. He barely got them on before Nicholas appeared in the doorway, silhouetted by the light in the hall.

  “Mama, it’s dark. I want light.”

  Alex came around from the side of the bed. “Come, son, let’s leave
your mother to dress.”

  “Papa,” Nicholas exclaimed, his sleepy eyes widening a little. But that was the extent of his reaction. Charlotte had been certain he’d pepper them with a dozen questions.

  Instead, he silently took in the scene: his mother covered up to her neck and his father shirtless and barefooted in his mother’s bedchambers.

  “Let’s go find your nanny,” Alex said, offering Nicholas his hand. With one final glance at his mother, he took his father’s hand and they left the room.

  By the time Alex returned, five minutes later, Charlotte had slipped on her nightdress and was belting a silk blue dressing gown in place.

  He grinned. “I was hoping to find you still undressed.”

  Charlotte laughed. “And risk a repeat of Nicholas barging in again. I think not.”

  Undaunted, he used the silk sash about her waist to pull her close. He was unashamedly hard and aroused. “And you don’t think it’s worth the risk?”

  “I’d rather not have it be a concern when I make love to my husband,” she whispered, feeling the tug of desire between her thighs.

  Alex lowered his head and kissed her softly on the curve of her neck. “Then let’s send him to your brother’s or to my parents in London,” he teased. “He surely won’t disturb us then.”

  Then quite abruptly, he pulled back, his expression suddenly serious. “I almost forgot to tell you, my mother came to see me yesterday.”

  It took a moment for Charlotte to regain her equilibrium. He had that kind of effect on her.

  “What did she want?” To remind him that Charlotte wasn’t good enough for him?

  Taking her hand in his, he led her to the armchair near the fireplace. He sat and settled her on his lap.

  “She called to tell me my cousin is making noise about our marriage papers. He is talking about challenging its legality.”

  At his words, one of Charlotte’s greatest fears was realized. “But you said—”