He needn’t cause a scandal now.
When the room finally cleared, he came out, swiping a scone from her plate. “Are you ready for your bath?”
Her lips parted. “Justice.”
He gave her a wicked smile back. “We’ve some things to discuss. Privately.”
“But the bath water will get cold.” She looked over at the steaming water.
“Why not both?” He reached for her hands, pulling her to stand.
“But…” she started.
He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “I’ve a powerful urge to see you in the light of day without your clothing.”
“I don’t think—” she started.
He grimaced. “Violet,” he started. “I have some important things to tell you and I think your skin and hot water will make them easier to say.”
Her eyes held a question, but she gave a quick nod, and he went to work removing her clothing.
He wished he could take his time, watch each piece slowly fall away.
Her creamy skin made him ache, but he handed her into the bath and started shedding his own layers of clothing.
He heard her intake of breath, but he ignored it as he kicked off his boots. The tub was small, but he was determined, sliding behind her and then settling her back against his chest.
After a moment’s hesitation, she snuggled into him. He grabbed a cloth and began working it over her body and then his. Silence fell between them for a few minutes until he finally tossed the cloth aside.
“What did you want to discuss?” she twisted around to look back at him.
He grimaced, letting out a long breath, jumping in with what he needed to say most. “My father was the meanest man I’ve ever met.”
She blinked. “Oh.” Twisting at the torso, her hand pressed to his chest as her eyes searched his.
He gave her a sad smile, brushing his hand down her cheek, pushing away a wet curl from her face. “I know. You likely thought I wanted to discuss Macklemeyer or even us, and I do. It’s just…I need to start here.”
She gave a nod and then twisted back around. “Say as much as you need.”
His heart squeezed in his chest. This was one of the many reasons he loved her.
“Did I tell you that he sold access to my brother’s ships in order to fund his latest construction project? His giant Gothic Revival home that he named after himself. Whitehaven. That’s how Macklemeyer became entangled in our lives to begin with.”
Violet clapped her hand to her mouth. “You didn’t. And I thought my father was awful.”
Justice dropped a kiss on the top her head. “I’d like to say that’s the worst thing he ever did to me. Selling out our business for a house.”
She winced, her cheek pressing down onto his wet chest. “You can tell me.”
He wrapped his arms about her, holding her close. “I will. I’ll tell you all of it. But—right now—I need you to know, that it changed all of us. His cruelty. Abuse. When I was sixteen, I nearly beat a man to death.” He drew in a shaky breath. “I thought I might be as mean as him. But I’m beginning to understand that I’ve just been hurt and angry. And you soothe that hurt, Violet.”
“I do?” Hope began to bloom in her chest.
“You do. My siblings and I, we’ve been struggling to find ourselves again and if I’ve resisted my feelings for you, it’s because it’s hard for me to let those feelings in. I thought…I worried I might hurt you, too.”
Hope floated up inside her making her feel lighter. “You…you have feelings for me?”
“Violet,” he groaned. “How could you not know that I love you, sweetheart?”
There had been signs, of course. But then again… “You seemed too intent on Macklemeyer. From the first, you made it clear that this was about him.”
He kissed the shell of her ear, nuzzling down her neck. “It started that way. But now…” His fingers skimmed along her collarbone. “Now it’s not about him at all. It’s about you and me and how much I love you. You’ve changed me, Violet. Made me want to be a better man.”
“Justice,” she cried, his name sounding strangled in her throat.
“I was afraid I was him. That he lived in me and that I’d be the father and husband that he was. But since meeting you, I don’t want to fight or hit. I just want to…to love.”
Emotion clogged her throat as she twisted back again. “You’ve made me better, too. I won’t be afraid anymore. I’m going to live my life with you without fear or regret.”
He dropped his forehead to hers. “Fear? Violet…” And then he kissed her long and hard in a way that stole her breath. “You saved my life today, sweetheart. You’re so brave.”
She’d needed those words. He kissed he again, pulling her tight to his chest as their wet skin molded together.
She lost track of time as they kissed and touched, his hand sliding over every inch of her skin. She traced his large muscles, the outline of his biceps, the ridges along his abdomen. Her hip rested against the powerful muscle of his thighs. She wiggled to try and get her hands low enough to trace them, too, but she only served to rub her bottom along his legs.
He groaned as he rose pulling her from tub with him. The water had cooled and even with the heat of his skin against her, she shivered. Wrapping a blanket around them both, he continued to kiss her even as he carried her to the bed. He fell back onto the bed, her body splayed out on top of his.
The feel of this powerful man under her sent its own thrill of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs came to either side of his hips, the tip of his manhood pressing into her soft folds. She pushed up, feeling him slide deeper inside her. He was right, there was no pain this time, only deep pleasure as he slid along her channel.
And when he caught one of her nipples between his lips, sucking on the bud, she had to clamp her lips together to keep from crying out.
They rocked together slowly at first but then building faster and faster as their bodies moved together.
His hands were on her back, her hips, her legs, rough and wonderful as he pumped deep inside her. Her pleasure built, flowing through her, growing until it shattered, and she came undone.
A moment later, he came too, burying his face in her neck.
She collapsed on his chest, tired but content.
She could stay here for days.
This was where she belonged. Tucked into Justice. And as he shifted them under the covers, she snuggled deeper into his side, nearly asleep.
She would always be safe and loved by his side. And, she’d be strong, too. “I love you,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
He chuckled. “And I you, my lioness.”
That made her smile. And then she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.
Epilogue
Three weeks later…
* * *
Violet sat in her husband’s lap as the carriage rocked back and forth, marveling that they’d actually married. “Have I told you about my bed?” he murmured close to her ear. “The things we’re going to do in that bed.”
Violet laughed, a breathy sound that came out huskier than her usual voice. He had told her about the bed. On multiple occasions. After that day of the kidnapping, they’d been unable to sneak time together again. Her uncle had filled the house and property with too many soldiers to find any privacy.
But they’d had several whispered conversations in the corners of rooms and on benches in the gardens. The sort of words that had her burning to try out that bed.
And finally, they were married and on their way to their new home together. Which filled Violet with all sorts of joy except for one small fact.
Macklemeyer had once again disappeared.
Her uncle had suggested they postpone the wedding. Stay with him. But in the end, it had been decided that they would marry and then head directly to the manufacturing site. Justice and Sayden did suggest they sail north rather than take a carriage. It was the quickest, and hopefully safest, way to travel.
; Justice had reasoned that Macklemeyer no longer had a boat of his own, so an ocean attack was unlikely. Though he’d assured her, he was unlikely to attack by land either. In all likelihood, he was recovering from his injuries, unless he was already dead.
Violet wasn’t sure if she wished that to be true or not.
On the one hand, he’d be gone forever. But on the other, how would they know that? Would they spend the rest of their lives peeking around every corner wondering when he might arrive? How could they ever rest without worry?
Not that she’d think on it today.
Today, she was in the arms of her husband, getting ready to take a journey to his home. To their home. To start their new life together.
His hand slid under her dress, skimming along her pantaloons as she sat in his lap, her legs dangling off to one side.
She’d missed his touch. The pleasure he so effortlessly brought. His hand was just about to reach the apex of her legs when someone called from close by. She gasped, pulling away but Justice only chuckled. “The streets get busier as we get closer to the docks.”
Her uncle, Sayden and Samantha were in the carriage behind them. Samantha would be joining them on their journey north to act as Violet’s companion. At least that’s what they’d told the rest of her family. No one knew that Samantha was actually going to start her own business.
The carriage slowed to a crawl in the crowded streets as Justice nipped at her neck, his hand resting languidly on her thigh. “We’re nearly there,” she breathed as she leaned away to flick open the curtain.
The noise outside had somehow grown more intent. Rather than the scrabble of normal voices, they’d grown hushed. Serious.
He raised his brows. “A man might think that you didn’t miss him.”
But she didn’t answer, as her brows scrunched together. “It’s not just the crowd that’s slowing us. Several soldiers are stopped just ahead.”
Justice slid her from his lap, placing her on the seat next to him as he looked out the window, too. “Stop,” he called, snapping open the door and climbing out before the carriage had come to a complete stop. Once it had, he reached for her, swinging her down.
Her uncle stepped out of the carriage behind them as did Samantha and then Sayden.
“General Wright,” one of the soldiers hailed. “A word.”
Her uncle moved to the front of the group. “What is it, Lieutenant Smith?”
The other man winced. “I’ve bad news.”
Violet held her breath.
“Yes?” her uncle asked, his voice clipped as his brows drew together.
“It’s a missive from the Duke of Whitehaven sent directly to you at the castle.”
Violet gasped. What did Justice’s brother have to say to her uncle?
“Go on,” Justice said standing stiff and tall.
The soldier’s eyes flicked to her husband for a second before they went back to Uncle Albert. “It’s Whitehaven. The estate has burned to the ground.”
“What?” Sayden asked, looking at Justice.
Violet gasped, her eyes flying to her husband. He grimaced as he swiped a hand down his face.
Her voice trembled as she pressed into his side. “What does that mean?”
Justice pulled her closer. “It’s the home my father built. The one that put Ben in debt.” He shook his head. “It’s gone?”
“Parricide,” Sayden muttered. “It has to be.”
Fear swelled inside her as Violet wrapped her arms about Justice’s waist. He pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head. “Don’t worry, love. If it was him, we’ll catch him.”
She shivered. If it was him, that meant he wasn’t dead, and this wasn’t over.
Her Wild White
Tammy Andresen
Sayden White stood on the deck of the three-masted schooner, grey mist swirling about him making the air thick as spilt pea soup. As a rule, he liked the rain. It was quiet. Well, he supposed sometimes it could be very loud but perhaps it was more that his mind was quiet in the rain.
Washed clean.
Sayden wasn’t one of those mopey sorts. He loved life and he lived it to the fullest, but there was something about rain that was like a pause. A breath of deep, fresh air.
And so, when a soft summer rain had begun to fall, he knew most of the crew and guests on this boat would retreat below deck and he’d come up here to seek a moment of solitude. A quiet in what had been a very loud week.
Only he wasn’t alone.
Another stood on the deck, just visible in the swirling fog as she stood at the bow of the ship, her arms wrapped about her waist.
And honestly, Samantha Longnook was the last person he wished to see.
Unusually tall and slender, she wasn’t his sort at all. He liked a lush woman, not that Sam was a love interest. Even if he could get past her glasses, and the way she stared over the top of them, her grey eyes silently accusing him of being daft, there was no way he could overlook the fact that she was not even the least bit interested in him.
It was another way in which she was completely unusual. An anomaly.
Sayden knew he was handsome. Dark hair and broad shoulders, he’d perfected his alluring smile years ago. It both said he didn’t care while still giving the appearance of charm. Women generally melted at the sight of it.
Not Miss Samantha Longnook.
She’d given him her glare in return. The one she’d likely perfected from years of making men feel small and inferior.
To be clear, he had not been attempting to seduce her. He’d used his smile for another reason entirely. She, being a true bluestocking, seemed to understand the particulars of bogs and swamps and the possible presence of coal. The hows and the whys of how she understood the topic concerned him far less than the fact that she did. And it was information that he desperately needed.
With the end of the Napoleonic war, his days as a manufacturer of gunpowder were limited. His eldest brother had taken over an indebted dukedom from their crook of a father. And to cap all this off, their father had been in business with a man who’d been attacking them. William Parricide, also known as Erwin Macklemeyer.
To cap the entire affair off, his father had done all of it to pay for his monstrosity of a gothic revival home, which Parricide had just burned to the ground.
Hence, why he needed silence now.
And why he’d asked the bluestocking for help. And though she’d resisted his famous grin, it turned out there was something she wanted more than his charm. Money.
“I can hear you breathing,” Samantha called over her shoulder, not looking back at him.
He jumped, startled by her words. Which irritated him. No one took him by surprise. He manufactured gunpowder for fuck’s sake. A task requiring skill and finesse and a great deal of concentration. Not to mention courage. And horse piss. But that was another conversation. “You cannot.”
“Then how did I know you were there?”
He hated her logic. The way she always used it to throw him off balance. He’d charmed scores of women. None of them ever ruffled him. But she managed it over and over with a single word or two. “I don’t know, Sam. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me in some long-winded conversation likely to bore me to tears or to sleep.”
He’d taken to calling her Sam, and he said the nickname like it was insult. He curled his lip around the single syllable, crossing his arms. But the truth was, it was a bit of a compliment. She was smarter and able to handle herself better than most men he knew.
“I shall keep it short then, so as not to bore you. Your nose whistles.”
Displeasure rippled down his skin at the cut she’d just given him. Damn her. Damn her and her big fat head. Well, actually it was a nicely shaped head with a lovely crown of dark thick hair. But the mind held within was annoying as hell in its intelligence. Unless those smarts were being used in regard to his future business. That was another matter entirely. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever
heard.” And then, without explanation, he began moving toward her.
Would he throttle her? Lean in close and catch a whiff or her scent? An aroma carrying a bit of earth and flowers, sweet and clean.
She sniffed, her nose notching in the air. “It’s true whether you think it ridiculous or not.”
Sayden let out a rumble of frustration. The desire to continue to argue with her danced on the tip of his tongue, but he clamped his lips shut. Why did she make him feel like a schoolboy all over again?
He reached her side, noting the lovely curve of her back as her arms wrapped around her body. He rolled his eyes at himself. When had he begun to notice her back? Any back for that matter? Normally, he assessed far more obvious assets. Like asses. Without meaning to, he glanced down and was surprised to note that hers was delightful. Perfectly plump with just the right amount of round to add a lush quality to her trim frame. Fuck.
He also noted that she was freezing cold. Out here on the open water, even in the summer air, the wind bit at his skin. And with the damp air…
He shrugged off his coat and dropped it around her shoulders. “Here. Take this.” The garment was going to smell like her later. He knew that and he told himself he was absolutely not going to hold it up to his nose when she gave it back.
For a moment, he wondered if she might take the coat back off and return it to him. Reject even the bit of warmth he offered the way she always seemed to reject him. He should be used to the feeling at his point in his life but somehow she managed to sting him in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to be hurt in years. Not since his father. But then she pulled the coat tighter about her shoulders. “Thank you.”
He gave a quick nod. “What are you doing out here anyway?”
She looked up at him then. Not that she had to notch her chin far. She was tall. Taller than most women with a long, graceful neck to match her body. Her full lips parted, and he had to confess that they were another rather lush feature. Soft and full they beckoned for him to come closer. The muscles in his abdomen tightened.
Her Wanton White: Dark Duke’s Legacy Page 13
