Carnal Deceptions (21 page)

The carriage lurched again. Before Tess could stop herself, she smacked the door handle hard with her elbow. Her eyes watering, she sat back and rubbed her sore arm. Miffed, she noticed Lord Marcliffe, still sitting like a bronze cast statue, completely undeterred by the violent rocking. Just as the tingling subsided in her arm, the driver hit another hole head on, and she flew off the seat and found herself sprawled over Lord Marcliffe’s legs. His heavy hand gave her a sharp tap on the bottom.

“Don’t tempt me, woman.”

She scrambled off his lap and wedged herself back into the corner, determined to stay put. She stared out the window and the bleak scenery kept repeating. Suddenly, it felt as if the interior of the carriage was shrinking. Convinced that there was a shortage of air, she put her gloved hands to her mouth and tried to yawn deeply. It felt as if she were not getting enough breath. Her lips tingled, and she was sure she would swoon.

“Why are you fidgeting so?”

She fanned herself. “There’s not enough air in here.” He gave her a confounded look.

Tess started to hum to herself trying hard not to think about breathing. Abruptly, she stopped her humming and pressed her cheek against the moist cold pane. “I need conversation. I’m going mad inside this box.”

“Let’s see if I can find an interesting subject,” he drawled. He rubbed his stubbled chin. “Ah, here’s a slice of information that might occupy your mind. Destroying that license did not erase the marriage. If you’ll recall, we had an audience. Joseph Kerr and his friends authenticated the ceremony.”

Tess straightened. “Certainly it cannot be that difficult to void an unconsummated marriage.”

“No court would believe it unless it could be proved that I was impotent. And that, sweeting, can be disproved by a number of witnesses.”

“How terribly charming.” All of her maladies seemed to have disappeared because now she was too busy being angry. “Enough conversation.”

He stacked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, obviously well pleased with himself.

At the next inn she insisted on a bath. Knowing that this would be the highlight of the horrendous trip, she relished every moment in the water. Unfortunately, the water

pouring down from the sky did nothing to lighten her spirits. She stepped out of the inn clean and shiny and trudged through the mud to the coach.

By midday, they reached yet another obscure little village.

The wheels squished through the mud as the coach rolled to a stop. Instantly, Lord Marcliffe was up and out the door. “Stay with the horses,” he called up to the driver, “I’ll bring you a pint.”

The humidity in the carriage made Tess feel like she was being smothered in wet wool. She found herself counting the breaths she was taking in, fretting about the lack of air again. She flew out the door and ran toward the tavern, not heeding the driver’s pleas to return.

The smoke-filled air inside was not much of an improvement, but at least she was no longer trapped in the traveling tomb. If she could locate Lord Marcliffe through the haze, he could spare her a sip or more of spirits to calm her nerves. There were certainly spirits to be found here. The smell of alcohol seemed to pour from the damp walls. And the patrons had done more than calm themselves. Many drowsed on benches. There were a few men slumped in corners. Tess stepped carefully over the ale puddled on the rotting floorboards.

It suddenly occurred to her that her presence was causing a bit of a stir. Two men lounging on a bench by the hearth sat up suddenly. One of the men thumped the other in the chest as she passed. The tavern maid gave her a wink as Tess sidled around a table in the center of the room. With relief, she spotted him. His back was to her, his head in his hand, a tankard at his elbow.

Fingers clamped on to her arm and she startled. One of the men from the hearth had followed her. “Pretty strangers don’t walk in here often.”

She cringed at the stale odor of ale on his breath. “Please get your hand off of me!”

At the sound of her voice, Lord Marcliffe whipped around with such force that the bench upturned. Instantly he had the man by the throat. The crowd parted.

“Wife, get out of here,” he said in a voice that sent a shiver up her spine.

She shoved her way through the onlookers. Once in the yard, she began pacing. The mud seeped through her satin slippers and dragged down her hem. The rain beaded on her lashes and made her ringlets droop. How fearsome Lord Marcliffe could be. She sincerely hoped he was not pulling off the man’s head. His offense had not been that

great. Suddenly, it was all too humorous. She was protecting Lord Marcliffe, a man who needed no protection.

Soon he was stomping across the yard, his long black coat flying behind him. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her along.

Her heart raced at the thought of climbing back in the coach. His fury would most definitely suck up all the air inside. She planted her heels firmly into the wet ground. Her hands and face were tingling and her head spun.

“Just leave me here. I will fend for myself.”

“It is only one more day. You’ve gone this far,” he said.

She tried to wrench free from his grip. “Please, I cannot bear to go in there with your being the way you are.” He released her and she ran away from the tavern, across the road to a stand of trees. She leaned back against a tree and shut her eyes. When she opened them he was staring down at her.

“How do you mean, ‘the way I am’?”

“You’re miserable. And I hate that you hate me, when I was only trying to keep you safe. Don’t you see, the entire thing about Sloan—it’s not about revenge anymore.” She unwound the scarf from her neck. “What I witnessed in the tavern made me realize my folly. In my entire life I have never known a more formidable man.” She pressed her fingers to the bruises on her bared throat. “These marks came with a threat. Marry him or
Marcliffe dies
.”

“Well, I will have to kill the bastard.”

“No. No. You must promise not to go near him,” she pleaded.

He reached forward and caressed the marks. His fingers found the ribbon, and she felt the ring sliding up her cleavage. His dimple made a startling appearance. A lump formed in her throat. It had been so long since she’d seen that smile.

His gaze focused on the ring.

She wiggled her ring finger. “I suppose I will need to plump up a bit for it to fit.” “You are already plump in all the right places.” Wrapping the cord around his hand,

he reeled her forward. His other hand snaked around her waist. She toppled into his arms.

He enveloped her in his warmth as his open mouth slammed over hers.

His tongue invaded her mouth, rubbing against hers with possessive roughness. She gripped his shoulders and pressed her shivering body into his heat. When he lifted his head, she felt dizzy.

He dipped his head again, stroking his tongue over the seam of her lips. She responded by opening her mouth to his delicious tongue. She sucked it hard, eliciting a primal groan from deep in his throat.

Breathless with surprise, she pulled away. “For a man who doesn’t like kissing—” “Do shut up, rabbit,” he said and slanted his mouth over hers again. Both hands slid

over her hips to firmly cup her bottom.

There were angry shouts in the distance, and he lifted his head. “Damn it.” He glanced over his shoulder at the tavern. “It might be better if we vacate this village. Do you think you can get into the carriage now?”

She grabbed his thick forearm. “You didn’t kill the man, did you?”

He took hold of the hand that gripped his sleeve. “What kind of a monster do you take me for? Let’s just say he was a bit shaken. I see the driver has anticipated me.”

The horses stopped a few feet from them. The crowd at the tavern seemed to settle down. They stared and pointed at the coat of arms on the side. “No doubt, you will be their topic of conversation for the next few days,” Tess said.

Tess felt quite at ease as she entered the coach.

“Make haste,” Lord Marcliffe ordered the driver as he climbed in after her. There was the sound of a whip cracking the air then the vehicle lurched forward.

The carriage was no longer oppressive, but cozy. Apparently, it had been his mood that had made her so anxious.

Up till now, Lord Marcliffe had seated himself as far away from her as possible. She had done the same. But now she was nearly in his lap. He began removing her rain-soaked Spencer. “Lord Marcliffe, what are you doing?”

“My aunt would never forgive me if I brought you home ill. It is obvious that these wet garments must be removed for the sake of your health.”

He pushed the jacket off her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her throat. The wet muslin of the dress clung to her body as he slid it from her shoulders, chemise and all. His cool, wet kisses trailed down the white skin of her breasts, and she pushed against his lips. “Of course,” she said in a breathless whisper, “we should wait to consummate this marriage until after we arrive—” His teeth lightly pulled on her erect nipple and she gasped. “—home.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she held his head as his mouth made every inch of her skin shiver. “It would be the proper thing to do.” Her words were barely audible.

He lifted his face and kissed her ear. “Indeed,” he whispered as his fingers inched the dress lower, leaving her naked to the waist. The thin fabric, made even more vulnerable with moisture, nearly ripped as he slid her clothing off her hips and out from under her. He lit the interior lantern and stared at her hungrily as he plunked down hard on the seat across from her and undid his trousers.

“Part your legs.”

The instant she obeyed and spread her thighs, he slid his finger into her and simultaneously swept his tongue over her nipple. Her hand glided through his smooth, black hair. His finger explored her, and she felt moisture between her thighs. He hooked his finger through the ring that dangled between her breasts and tugged her closer, so that the stiff peak of her nipple found its way to his mouth. His mouth moved to her other breast. He pulled the nipple through his teeth and sucked hard.

He raised his head. “My wife,” he said as he dropped the ring so that it dangled once again between her breasts.

Both his hands worked her quim now. While one was continually stroking the downy hair or parting her nether lips and rubbing the exposed inner folds, the other was thrusting into her with a driving rhythm. It gave her a thrill to look down on his dark head and see that he watched everything he was doing to her. Her legs felt like jelly, and she dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

He pressed his face into her belly. “I need to have you, Tess,” he said, his voice raw. After maneuvering her, he positioned himself on his knees between her splayed legs.

He spread her nether lips with one hand and rubbed the thumb of his other hand over the

tender slick folds then swirled it deliciously over her nub. Tess shuddered with ecstasy. Moving forward, he guided his shaft. She could feel it prodding where his finger had been moments before.

Still on his knees, he gripped her bottom, angling her toward him.

“Tess.” He nearly growled her name as he forced an entry into her narrow passage. She inhaled a startled breath. He was so thick, she felt as if she were being stretched to the extreme.

“Do you want more of me?” he asked. He pushed in another spine-tingling notch. “I want all of you,” she said, her voice cracking.

His fingers dug into her bottom, holding her firm. He rammed into her in one solid stroke. Tess gripped his shoulders, stunned for a second, impaled on his massive cock.

The coach dipped hard. “Tallon,” she cried. It felt like a delicious punishment. She squirmed, exalting in the unbelievable feel of him being inside her.

He groaned. “Tess, stop moving,” he said through gritted teeth, as though he were about to lose control. He reached around the small of her back and pulled her hips toward him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding tightly to him. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue plunging deep to tangle with hers. His hips lifted, dragging his rigid shaft out of her then he drove into her again. His tongue simulated the same hard-riding rhythm of his cock. Reaching between them, his callused fingers found her most sensitive spot. He caressed her nub with exquisite skill. Her body reacted instantly, her tight sheathe spasming around him. He clutched her hips, pressing his fingers into her naked skin, and shoved deeply into her one more time, bringing his body to a shuddering climax.

A soft moan escaped her lips as he slid his cock out. He rose off his knees, sat back on the seat. He stared at the telltale pink stain on the hem of his shirt and grinned before pulling her into his lap.

His fingers trailed deliciously up and down her back. “You would have made a delectable mistress. But I much prefer you as my wife.” Reaching up, he twined one of her curls around his finger. “It’s extraordinary how the color changes with every degree of light.”

Tess drew her thumb over his sensuous bottom lip. “Lydia lied. She said you never kissed your mistress.”

“She didn’t lie. That was a business relationship.” He took a coil of her hair and brushed the ends across her nipple.

“And our relationship—”

“Is based on passion.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and inhaled.

“I wish you to end your
business
relationship.” She was already overstepping her bounds as his wife. Men in his position often kept a mistress. Yet, she found it impossible to prevent her lips from pushing into a pout.

“And if I choose to continue it?” He stopped stroking her for a moment. He seemed intent on her answer.

“I would leave you,” she said simply. Her eyes filled with tears. She refused to share him. One kiss and she wanted to have him completely.

His gaze grew tender. “I haven’t paid a visit to the woman since I’ve met you. It has long been over.”

“It was Hortensia you met in the beginning,” she reminded him. Merely thinking of her drab incarnation made her wince.

“That is exactly when I ended the affair—when I first met Hortensia. And I must say, sometimes I wish for her back, although without the fake eyebrows…and the ratty wig.” He tugged gently at her nipple.