Blackthorne's Bride (25 page)

"Open your legs," Jack told her.

Maddie stared at him and didn't move. But he took her hand, kissed it, and pressed it to her womanhood. "If I can't touch you, you'll have to do it."

Oh, but this was too wanton. She couldn't touch herself. Not in front of him. "Jack—"

"Open your legs, Maddie. Or should I call you Lady Blackthorne?" The way he was looking at her fired her blood again and hot desire rushed through her. All his touches, all his kisses—she wanted him, wanted pleasure.

And though she still felt shy, she also knew that there was no one besides her husband that she would rather share this intimate moment with. Only Jack. Now and always Jack.

Her hand moved lightly against her flesh, and Jack nodded, his dark eyes even darker than usual. "Do what feels good to you."

Maddie nodded, wanting to do what would please him, what would keep the desire hot and dark in his eyes. Lady Blackthorne was a seductress. She lifted her hands and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight, watching the nipples grow stiff and hard as her pleasure rose. She pinched one nipple, and Jack's breath grew heavy. His manhood was rigid and ready as she slid her hands down her abdomen.

Her hands met at the juncture of her thighs and slowly, so slowly, she opened her legs. Jack's gaze burned into her, making her feel warm and restless. She shifted, parted her outer lips, the way Jack had, and tapped one delicate finger against the sensitive nub that brought her so much pleasure when he touched it.

Jack let out a slow, agonized breath as Maddie began to tease the bud into aching sensitivity. Her eyes still on him, she brought her finger to her mouth, touched her tongue to the finger, and dipped it back between her legs.

"Oh, God, Maddie," Jack groaned. He touched himself, then brought his hand away, as though wanting to prolong the agony, as though not wanting to miss a moment of her ecstasy.

The moist finger against her tender bud caused a shock of sensation between her legs, the pleasure rippling into her belly and coiling into a tight spring.

She threw her head back and rode the heightened sensation, no longer caring that Jack watched her. She was a slave to the pleasure that built and built but would not peak. She dipped her finger in her mouth again, but before she could touch herself, Jack was between her legs. "I have to taste you," he said, voice hoarse. And he thrust her legs farther apart and put his mouth on her.

His slick, skilled tongue was her undoing. One touch and she writhed beneath him. Her body shook with small spasms of pleasure. So much pleasure, and yet she knew there was more. He grasped her hips, holding her still as he plundered her gently. Maddie was aware that she was gasping, that her hands were fisted in his hair, and that the coil in her belly was so tight she thought she would die if she didn't find release.

And then the coil unraveled—not slowly, but in one quick jolt everything came undone. She jerked and cried out with pleasure, bringing her legs closed at the intensity. And still Jack continued to touch her, making her scream with the power of her climax.

Finally, he released her, rising up before her, pushing his hard manhood into her hand. Her hands were slick, and she moved them up and down his shaft, her fingers trembling and unsteady, but he was ready for her. With a cry, he threw his head back and climaxed, his seed spilling onto her chest, where it felt warm and heavy against her breast.

She herself felt warm and heavy. She closed her eyes, only vaguely aware of Jack cleaning her with the linen and soap, brushing her hair back from her face, and lifting her into his arms.

She dreamed of a growling black bear who, when she ran her hand along the soft fur of his head and scratched behind his ears, closed its eyes and purred.

* * * * *

On the fourth day of the trip back to London, when the coachman announced they were nearing Islington, Jack shook Maddie awake. Somewhere along the way he'd acquired a new gown for her—white with small yellow flowers—and now she straightened it and rubbed her eyes.

"We're home?" she said, her voice groggy. Beside him, she was warm and adorably disheveled, the yellow bow she'd tied in her hair falling lopsided over one cheek.

"Almost, sweetheart. Next stop is my town house."

And his bed.

They'd traveled hard these last few days, and he hadn't wanted to tire Maddie further by keeping her up late at night with his attentions. He hadn't touched her, and as a result wanted her more than ever. And he still hadn't made love to her in a bed.

He'd change that tonight.

"Do you think Blackjack knows we're almost home?" she asked.

Damn. He'd forgotten about the bear. What the hell was he going to do with a bear in the middle of London? If his country house weren't currently under renovation, he would have taken Maddie and the bear there. The estate had twelve bedrooms and as many beds. He would have liked to explore his wife's passionate nature in each of them. But as it was, they were forced to return to London—and Bleven.

Jack clenched his fists. He would finally have answers. And revenge.

"I think the bear is the least of our worries," he told Maddie, who was straightening her hair bow.

"Do you think Lord Nicholas and Ashley have returned yet?" she asked, peeking out the window, practically bouncing with excitement now.

"We'll know soon enough."

Jack gave the coachman the last bit of directions to his town house on Brook Street and pulled Maddie away from the window to snuggle her beside him.

She immediately reached up and kissed his cheek. "I can't wait to see your house and meet all your servants. Ridgeley, in particular, sounds wonderful."

"Ridgeley had better toe the line. He's the one responsible for this mess. If he hadn't told Nick where I was, I'd never have had that run-in with Bleven."

"Then you might never have met me," Maddie said. "And I'd be married to Dover right now, and Blackjack would probably be dead."

The bear again. Jack scowled. What the hell was he going to do with a three hundred pound bear?

The coach slowed, and Maddie took his hand. She always seemed to know when something was bothering him. "Everything will work out for the best," she said.

He raised a skeptical brow. "You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." He shook his head. Little optimist. Damn, if he didn't actually like that about her.

A liveried footman opened the carriage door, and the late afternoon light spilled inside. Jack descended first, reaching back to help Maddie climb down.

Ridgeley had come out to meet them, the old man's blue eyes widening a fraction when he saw Maddie. It was a subtle gesture, one Jack wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't known the butler for twenty years.

Jack led Maddie up the steps to his town house, nodding to Ridgeley as he opened the door. "Welcome home, Lord Blackthorne. Lady Blackthorne," the old butler said without even a pause.

"Ridgeley," Jack said, nodding back, meanwhile noting that most of the rest of his staff was quickly assembling in the entryway. Not as polished as Ridgeley, they stared at Maddie with open curiosity.

She smiled at the stiff-necked butler. "Good afternoon, Ridgeley. I see you've heard the news of our recent marriage." Jack saw the worry line appear between her brows. "I'm afraid we must be the latest
on dit."

"The Martingale family has always been popular in Society," his butler replied.

She raised a brow at Jack. "So I hear."

"I suppose introductions are in order," Jack drawled, feeling the weight of his title pressing down on him. Amazing how little he'd felt like a marquess the last few days and how heavy the responsibility, now that he had it back.

But his main priority was keeping his new wife safe. He wanted a quiet, uneventful return. When they were settled in, he would determine the best way to approach Bleven. Until then, he intended to keep her hidden away. And as he'd be hiding with her, it might prove an enjoyable undertaking.

He began the introductions with his housekeeper, Mrs. Gardener, and moved down the line. A true earl's daughter, Maddie smiled and greeted each servant, putting the staff at ease and quickly winning their approval. Hell, no wonder he'd liked her so much from the start. She could charm an ornery bear.

Unfortunately, she had.

Jack was introducing the second downstairs maid—why the hell did he need all these servants again?—when the pounding began on the door.

He swung round.

Damn. So much for his unobtrusive return.

Ridgeley opened the door, spoke quietly with the guest, and then addressed Jack. "Lord Castleigh to see you, my lord. Are you at home?"

Jack scowled. He should have known Castleigh would post men to watch for his return.

"Daddy?" Maddie said, grabbing Jack's arm. "Oh, jiminy. I hope he didn't bring his pistol."

"Pistol?" the housekeeper said in alarm.

"I bloody well know he's at home," a voice, presumably Castleigh's, boomed from the other side of the door. "I saw the bear out front."

"Bear?" one of the maids said, her voice rising.

A footman, close to the window, pointed outside. "That's right. They've brought a huge black bear with them. It's got fangs and claws big enough to eat the lot of us."

Jack opened his mouth, but Maddie had already stepped in. "Oh, no, that's just Blackjack. He's a nice bear. He'd never eat you. He's going to live here with us."

"Live with a bear!"

A few of Jack's servants were backing up, and hysteria showed on their faces.

"Calm down—" Jack began.

"My lord, are you home?" Ridgeley repeated, voice even and expression bland.

"Oh, bloody hell, just let me in." Castleigh pushed past Ridgeley, who looked down his nose at the intruding earl.

"I present the Earl of Castleigh."

"It's the man with the pistol!" someone screeched, and a few of the servants ducked behind the statues and plants in the vestibule.

"And he's got the bear," someone behind a Roman bust called out.

"He doesn't have a pistol!" Maddie assured them, but Jack saw her glance at her father suspiciously. "And the bear is outside."

Jack was tempted to peer out the window just to be certain. At this point he wasn't ruling anything out.

Maddie gave her father an imploring look. "Daddy, tell them the bear isn't going to hurt them," she said, approaching him. "They won't listen to us."

The servants quieted and all eyes turned to Lord Castleigh. Or at least Jack assumed they did. He couldn't see his servants from their hiding places behind the statues.

Castleigh smiled. "Oh, I'm sure the bear won't eat you."

Maddie sighed. "See?"

"No more than the wolf she brought home one winter in the country," Castleigh continued. "It only took off half our footman's arm."

Jack closed his eyes.

"Daddy!" Maddie glared at her father. "You know it was only a finger or two." She spun back to look at her new staff. "Really, we told him to stop tormenting the poor wolf. It was the man's own fault that he was bitten."

Gasps and squeals erupted around Jack, and the servants rushed away, leaving the statues teetering. Ridgeley, Maddie, and Castleigh stood in the vestibule.

Jack put a hand to his head and tried to soothe the pounding behind his eyes.

"Welcome to the family, Blackthorne," Castleigh boomed.

"Tea, my lord?" Ridgeley asked.

Jack shook his head. "Bring me a brandy. The bottle."

"If you're going to shoot me," Jack said, taking a seat behind the large oak desk in his library, "can you wait until I finish the brandy?"

Ridgeley had brought two glasses and a pot of tea, and Jack poured brandy for himself and his new father-in-law, while Maddie glared at the men and poured herself tea.

"He's not going to shoot you, Jack," she said, setting the teapot down. "Are you, Daddy?"

Castleigh sipped his brandy and smiled again. Jack didn't like that smile. It looked more like a smirk. "Oh, no. I don't have to shoot your new husband, Madeleine." He set the glass on the desk. "You'll kill him all by yourself."

"Daddy Stop it."

Castleigh spread his arms. "Not that he needs you to do him in, dear. I hear he has problems of his own. The Black Duke?" Castleigh shook his head. "Not an enemy I'd have courted."

Not an enemy Jack particularly wanted either. But he would deal with Bleven when the time came.

Jack propped his feet on his desk and motioned Maddie closer to him. She came, and he put an arm around her waist. Castleigh's eyes narrowed. The man might act smug, but Jack knew he wouldn't be here if he weren't concerned for his daughter. Castleigh might even hate him—and Jack really couldn't blame him for that—but he wanted the best for Maddie.

Jack pulled her flush against him. "Why are you here, Castleigh? It's obviously not to wish us felicitations on our happy union."

"Is it a happy union, then?" the earl asked, turning his glass. "I call it a hasty union. I was told she'd run off with that bumbling dog breeder. Had I known, sir, that you were next in line, I would have shot you as well."