Where was that food?
“So,” said his beautiful companion with a sly smile. “Now that we have delved into my own darkest secrets and revealed why I have taken this voyage across England, I think that it is high time that you revealed your own secrets.”
James started, and stared at her with a slight frown. Surely, she could not know – there was no possibility that she could know.
The clatter of plates and knives around him seemed to fade into the background as he stared into her deep brown eyes.
“You have been so interested in my own journey that we have not really investigated your own,” said Rebecca with a smile.
James returned it, but hesitated. True, he felt very close to her – closer than he had done to anyone, now that he came to think about it – but that did not mean that he could speak freely.
“I wonder when the food will be ready,” he said, avoiding the subject entirely. “I hope that whatever is being made is to your liking. If you sampled the same stew yesterday that I had, you must be – ”
“I do not like dishonesty,” she interrupted, eyes unwavering. “And I expect equal honesty, James. I have shared my secret with you – is that not fair?”
James hesitated and was relieved that the moment was broken by a serving boy laying down two large plates before them, with what looked like finer fare than he had previously been served.
“Ah, good,” he said vaguely. “This looks…” His voice trailed away as he saw the look on Rebecca’s face. Sighing, James said quietly, “‘Tis not really my secret to tell.”
If he had hoped that the suggestion that she was prying into another person’s private business was going to dissuade her, he could not have been more wrong. Rebecca’s eyes alighted with intrigue, and as she leaned forward to speak in a low voice her hand brushed his own – and fierce sparks of heat, attraction, desperation rocketed through his body.
By God, he wanted her.
“I will tell no one, you can be assured of that,” murmured Rebecca, and James tried to concentrate on the words she was saying, rather than the way that her lips curled around them. “And as I am almost sure that you did not tell me your true name, there is no way that if I did decide to betray your trust, it could ever mean anything to that person in any case.”
It was impossible to prevent his eyes widening, to stop his jaw dropping, to control the look of shock that covered his face.
“Why do you think that?” He asked quickly.
She grinned. “Because I did not give you my true name either.”
For a brief moment, James considered pushing aside the plates, tipping them onto the floor, ridding the table of everything so it was ready for him to pull this startling woman up onto it ready for him to ravish her.
The desire did not fade but his sense did return to the surface. They were surrounded by other travellers, and despite her elopement, this beauty was still a virgin. Her first time deserved to be something special – no matter his deep desire to teach her exactly what she had been missing.
Instead of growling his demand that she accompany him to their room, James laughed jerkily. “I should have known.”
Rebecca – or the woman that he had known as Rebecca for the last two days – smiled. “Am I right?”
James nodded, took a bite of his roasted meat and vegetables, and swallowed before he continued. “Partly, I suppose. My name is James, and I often go by the name of Paendly. But it is Viscount Paendly, not Mr Paendly, in the circles I mix in.”
He had hoped, and it was a slightly embarrassing hope at that, that she would be impressed by his admission. His title had never failed to widen eyes or cause deeper curtsies before.
But all his companion did was laugh. “Are you telling me that I am on a voyage with a viscount?”
James shrugged as he grinned. “I suppose you are, Miss…?”
It appeared at first that she was not going to give him her real name, those brilliant eyes staring at him suspiciously. Eventually it appeared that he was to be trusted.
“Rowena,” she said quietly, turning to her own food. “Rowena Kerr.”
As soon as she said the words, James could not help but smile at her. Rowena. Yes, that suited her far more than Rebecca: there was a strange mysteriousness about Rowena, a sort of mythic magic.
“Rowena,” he murmured, and it sent a chill through his spine, almost like a premonition. He had a feeling that the name Rowena was going to be very important to him for the rest of his life.
“Now, it is self-evident why I hid my identity,” she said quietly as she played with her food. “What I am unclear of is why you felt the need to lie?”
James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He should not even consider discussing this with her: a woman he had met not three days ago? But she had shared her secret with him – a secret that, if he chose to, could be the ruin of her.
“I only hid who I was because…” It was difficult to get out of, this habit of secrets and lies. “Because I was on an errand for a friend who found themselves on the wrong side of the law.”
He knew Rowena well enough by now to hear the scoff in her tones as she said, “Wrong side of the law.”
“I have no desire to persuade you,” he said with a smile after another mouthful of the delicious meal. “Please do feel free to disbelieve me.”
His nonchalance was evidently far more intriguing than if he had attempting to argue with her. Rowena’s eyes glittered with interest and as she leaned forward, James attempted not to notice the swell of her breasts.
“Tell me more,” she whispered.
Now struggling to manage the hunger in his stomach with the hunger in his loins, James dropped a little of the meat from his fork as he tried to eat. This woman was consuming him from the inside out, and James was finding that there was nothing that he would not do for her.
It was frightening, to have so much of your control taken from you, but he found that he would give it to her willingly for just one kiss.
Rowena was watching him expectantly, and after swallowing his food, James spoke in a low voice. “My friend is from France, from a noble family, you understand. He is hunting down a French spy.”
“A spy!” Rowena gasped with a smile. “What – ”
But she broke off before she could speak as the serving boy returned to their table.
“A bottle of wine, sir, m’lady?”
“No!” They both spoke together, and the lad disappeared sharply from their table. They shared a look, and James’ heart glowed with warmth.
“What is he doing in England?”
James raised an eyebrow. “My friend?”
Rowena shook her head irritably. “No, the spy! You said that your friend had followed him, the spy, to England and – ”
“Who said that the spy was a gentleman?”
He could have crowed aloud at the look of astonishment on Rowena Kerr’s face.
“But – but you said…a woman?”
James nodded impressively, and lowered his voice even further – partly to ensure that no one could overhear them and partly, he admitted to a secret part of himself, to encourage her to lean forward to and give him another stupendous view of her breasts.
“I cannot name names, obviously under the circumstances, but I can tell you that my nobleman friend escaped France but two weeks ago, and is now looking for his sister, who has been on the run, here in England, for over a year.”
It was impossible not to preen, James found, as he watched Rowena stare at him, impressed beyond words.
“I am a friend of both since childhood,” James whispered. “I know that…my friend would do anything to find his sister. What he does not know is that I have been tracking her movements for the last six months. When you met with me, I had just been to see her, to tell her the news that her brother, too, had escaped from France.”
Rowena placed down her knife and fork, and looked up at him with an emotion that he could not quite read: was it dev
otion? Was it desire?
“You must have a taste for danger,” she said lightly, her fingers playing with the stem of her glass. “Does your appetite for such things apply to…to all areas of your life?”
James’ mouth went dry. He knew women. He knew what they wanted, and how they indicated that they wanted it, and when he had one to himself he knew exactly how to pleasure her.
Rowena Kerr wanted him.
“I generally find,” he said in a low voice, not taking his eyes away from hers, ready to lose himself within her, “that I know danger when I see it, and I have never run from it yet.”
She hesitated for a moment, and then a smile, almost shy, but unwavering, crept across her face. “‘Tis a shame for you to spend another night cramped in a carriage. I have no objection to sharing a chamber this night, if you do not.”
6
Rowena glanced around for the gong making such a racket, but it was her heart thundering in her own chest as she rose from the table and turned away from James, Viscount of Paendly, hunger in his eyes.
She could hardly believe the words that had emanated from her lips, but they were honest and true. Holding back her desire for him was no longer an option – she was far too attracted to him to resist.
And why should she? She would be paying the price for a night of passion once she returned to society; why not experience those delights herself, if she was going to suffer for it?
Her feet seemed to be walking of their own accord: they did not need her to guide them. The innkeeper had already given them their directions – “Up two flights of stairs and ‘tis the only door on your left, there is no way to miss it” – and now she was walking up the stairs with James behind her.
Close behind her. Rowena did not need to turn around or glance her head to feel his presence mere inches from hers. A smile broadened on her face, and she found she had to fight the urge to sway her hips.
This is not a chance for you to seduce him, she reminded herself, almost breathless as she turned the corner and started up the second flight of stairs. You may want him to make love to you, Rowena Kerr, but he is a Viscount. He has his honour, even if you are happy to ignore yours.
But it was impossible to ignore the heat that was rushing through her body, the aching desire for him to touch her. As she took a step onto the top landing and saw the only door on the left, she hesitated, and felt the masculine strength of a man’s chest touch her back.
“Do excuse me,” came the low whisper in her ear, and Rowena shivered to feel him so close.
She could say nothing; she could barely trust her tongue at all. Rowena shook her head almost imperceptively, hoping that it would imply her lack of concern, but all it did was bring his jaw and mouth into contact with her ear, and she gasped aloud.
“H-here we are,” she said in broken tones, trying to cover the shiver of delight that had flowed through her at that infinitesimal touch. Her fingers outstretched, she pushed the chamber door open.
There was quite evidently but one bed.
Rowena swallowed, feeling the heat surging through her even more strongly now, but determined to stay calm.
“Here we are, then,” she repeated stupidly, hating the sound of her own voice but desperate to fill the silence with something.
Stepping into the room, Rowena cast around it for something to say, some comment to make. If she did not say something banal soon, her real thoughts would spill out of her head. Touch me. Caress me. Love me – be intimate with me.
The secret thoughts of her hearts were on the tip of her tongue, and despite their scandalous flavour, they tasted sweet in her mouth. They tasted right. There was no bitterness of shame intermingled there, and as James closed the door behind them, leaving them quite alone in the little room, Rowena turned to face him.
Yes, she wanted him to make love to her. But where to start?
“Ah, I see that Smith has brought up your luggage.”
If she did not know any better, she would almost say that James too was a little unsure what to say. That typical candour, that almost languid comfort that she knew him to possess, seemed to have melted away. He was staring at her with those clear blue eyes, as though he had never seen her before.
As though he had never seen a woman before.
A hot rush of desire rushed through Rowena as she looked at James in the candlelight. He was handsome; devilishly so, and he was kind, and clever, and there was something dangerous about him that she could barely put her finger on.
And she knew exactly what she was going to do.
“That was very kind of Smith, to be sure,” she said lightly. “I wonder, James. Would you be so kind as to assist me?”
Her heart, once thundering, now seemed to have stopped, but her breathing hadn’t – it was faster now as she laid the bait to catch herself a man.
And he bit. James smiled, and took a step towards her. “Of course…Rowena.”
A shiver of anticipation washed through her, just to hear her name from his lips, and she tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Would you please undo the back of my…my gown? I cannot reach it alone.”
It was almost enough just to see the desire spark in his eyes as she watched James swallow, saw his muscles in his chest tighten, the increase in his breathing, the passion igniting in his gaze. He wanted her, she could see it now, and she had given him the perfect chance to reach out and take her.
But would he?
James swallowed for a second time. “It would be my honour.”
Triumph was not the word for it: relief, heated, wanted, mingled with desperation for him to touch her now, now – but she must be calm.
Blushing slightly in the full knowledge that she was more than capable of doing this herself, but knowing that this was the best way to bring him closer to her, Rowena turned away from James, pulling her golden hair to her front to pool on her left side, revealing the curve of her neck.
For a full ten seconds she stood there, exposed and unsure of exactly what James was doing – but then a gasp escaped her lips as strong, warm fingers brushed the base of neck to move a few strands of hair that got left behind.
“You…you are beautiful.”
The whisper was so quiet that for a moment, she thought that she had imagined it, but the heat scorching her skin every place that James’ fingers touched told her the truth.
Trying to control her breathing, fighting every temptation to turn around and see the expression on his handsome face, Rowena raised her hands to hold the front of her gown to her and closed her eyes as strong and secure fingers gently pulled the ribbon of her gown away – and snapped them open once more as she heard his ragged breath.
He wanted her. She knew that, could feel it deep within her, felt it in her gut, and something lower in her body. What surprised her was how much she wanted him.
Licking her lips nervously, Rowena tried desperately to think of a way to initiate a kiss. How could something so simple feel so complicated?
“There,” came the jagged voice of the man standing inches behind her. “All…all done.”
All that was holding her gown up her across her breasts were her own hands – and those, she thought wildly, could easily fall –
And then she gasped. A hot and passionate kiss had been laid on her neck and her entire body seemed to alight with joy.
“Oh, Rowena,” James groaned as her neck arched away from him, giving him complete access to her side.
But before she could truly revel in the moment, it was over.
“I am sorry,” said James’ voice, and Rowena did turn now to see him, and saw confusion and desire and regret in his eyes. “I must apologise, Miss Kerr, I…I am afraid that I could not help it.”
Rowena stared at him, mouth slightly open in confusion, and he shook his head with a wry smile. “You are too damn beautiful and I was too damn weak to resist you.”
She paused for one second – just o
ne second, as though standing on the edge of a cliff in the wind. And then she decided.
Her gown fell to the floor in a shimmer of violet silk and there she stood, completely naked. For who was wearing underclothes in this stuff inn?
Rowena was not entirely sure what reaction she was expecting, but she knew what she was hoping for.
James growled and took her in his arms in two short strides, placing his mouth on hers in a fiery kiss that removed any doubt in her mind that this was right – for how could something that felt this good be wrong?
His hands were on her buttocks, pulling her close to him, and she gasped at the feeling of his buttons scraping across her breasts. His tongue, gentle at first and then firm, determined to take the pleasure that he had seemingly waited so long for, ravished her mouth driving ripples of joy across her body.
Rowena gave herself up fully to the kiss, but it was not enough. There was a burning desire in her for more, but what more could there be? How could love surpass this?
She did not have to wait long to find out. Her fingers had moved to those buttons and started to frantically undo them, and within two minutes James too was naked – and Rowena’s eyes widened as she saw him.
He had pulled away slightly, but kept her hands in his. His eyes watched her carefully as her own raked over his nude form.
“You…you are not afraid?” His voice was still a growl but it was a quiet one, with no malice, just passion.
Rowena swallowed, and shook her head. The ache in her body for him was growing now and in answer to his question, she freed a hand from his own and placed it, hesitantly, on that most private part of him.
The groan that escaped James’ lips only made the ache worse, and seeing the pleasure on his face seemed to warm her even more.
“Oh God, yes,” he moaned, and pulled her closer, forcing his lips down on hers in an ecstasy of kisses that made her cry out into his mouth in turn.
Rowena could barely concentrate, her body seemed to be alive for the first time in her life, but she followed her instincts and caressed and fondled and teased until James cried out.
Voyage With a Viscount Page 5
