Every Time We Kiss (21 page)

Vanessa swallowed visibly and sat up straight in her seat. “Do you love her?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“But you weren’t supposed to fall in love with her. Or anyone,” she sobbed.

“Vanessa, you were my mistress. My lover but not my love. I’m sorry.”

“You never intended on returning to me, did you?” she asked, then wiped away a tear.

“I am sorry for deceiving you. I had hoped to spare your feelings,” he said softly.

“Spare my feelings?”

“Yes. I knew you loved me but I didn’t have the same feelings for you. I had hoped you would find another protector before I married,” he admitted.

“I see.” She pulled at the folds of her skirt, stretching the muslin then crinkling it into clumps in her fists. “I think you had best leave, Matthew.”

“Of course. As long as we are both clear that I will not be coming back to you.”

“I understand perfectly,” she replied harshly.

Matthew yanked on his greatcoat. “I certainly hope you do.”

“Oh, trust me, Matthew. I understand.”

The ominous tone of her voice made him turn and stare at her once more before he left the house.

Vanessa stared at the door after Matthew left. If he thought for one minute this was over, he was wrong. How dare he say he didn’t love her! She’d given him her heart and her body.

The sound of heavy footsteps turned her head toward the staircase.

“Did I not tell you he was in love with the chit?” Huntley said, straightening his cravat as he walked.

“I told you to seduce the girl, not force yourself on her,” Vanessa yelled, standing to face him. She cringed every time she saw the purplish bruises on his face. Someone had beaten him nearly senseless.

“She wouldn’t be seduced, so I thought the only way to get what you wanted was by force.”

So that explained the bruises. Selby must have caught him and beaten him, as deserved. Huntley was a complete and utter idiot. If not for his finances, she would have dissuaded him years ago. But he might prove useful for a few more weeks. Vanessa stood and walked over to him. She pressed her lush body against him and felt him start to harden again.

“Can you get me into Ancroft’s fancy-dress party?” she asked in a husky tone.

“I wasn’t invited. Ancroft is good friends with Selby.”

She drew her fingernails up the heavy cloth of his trousers and over his hard cock. “Please?”

“One condition,” he moaned as her palm rubbed against the head of his penis.

“Anything you want,” she purred.

“I want you here, right now.”

“But the servants,” she protested. The man was insatiable. They had done this only a few hours ago.

“Let them watch.”

She swallowed down the rush of excitement at possibly being watched by the servants. Removing each button from its hole, she asked, “Can you get me into the party?”

“Anything you want,” he answered as she took him into her mouth.

After knocking several times, Jennette slowly turned the doorknob of Matthew’s town home. She glanced back toward the street to make certain no one noticed her and then slipped inside. The darkness of the place sent a shiver of fear down her back. Did he actually live in this gloomy house?

“Hello? Lord Blackburn, are you here?”

Where were the servants? She knew he must have let some go but certainly some had remained out of loyalty to his family. Walking toward the salon, she almost tripped over a loose marble tile. She glanced up to see huge cobwebs in every corner and a thick layer of dust on the tables. After she opened the heavy draperies, the condition of the house became clearer.

It was an utter disaster.

“Oh my, the man needs me desperately,” she said aloud.

She had to see if the rest of the house was in such abhorrent deterioration. As she walked down the marble hallway, she could tell this house had once been a great home. But now, pictures were gone, leaving only their imprint with darker wallpaper in their place.

One room was completely devoid of furniture as if everything had been sold. And it probably had been sold, she thought. She walked further into the house. The kitchen at least looked as if someone came in and fed the man. The coals in the fire were still glowing.

She walked back to the front steps and upstairs. She felt a twinge of guilt for trespassing. At least she now knew exactly what she was getting herself into with him. Thankfully, she loved to refurbish a home and once they had paid his father’s debts, she could start on this home first. She turned the knob on the first bedroom at the top of the stairs and released a long-held breath.

The bedcovers were a rumpled mess, there were clothes strewn across the floor, but instead of disgust, she only felt pity. The man had no valet, no footman, no butler, and possibly only a woman who came into cook for him. Her heart went out to him with the sacrifices he made to prevent his tenants from being put out of their houses.

“Who’s here?”

He’s home. Her heart raced with anticipation. “I’m upstairs,” she replied, then proceeded to fold his trousers and place them in the walnut clothing-press. She could hear his footsteps coming closer so she hurried to finish picking up his room.

“Jennette?” He walked through the door with a look of shock on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she said, then realized they were standing in his bedroom.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, looking around the room. His cheeks reddened in discomfiture. “Why did you clean my room?”

She never wanted him to feel embarrassed by her discovering the condition of his home. “I assumed your valet was off today.”

“You know I have no valet. I’d planned to clean later in the day.”

“Matthew, I wanted to talk to you.”

He stepped closer to her. “And I you.”

“Why did you want to speak with me?”

He pulled her closer to him. “You ran out on me at the Astons’ party. You were upset and I had no way of comforting you.”

Jennette stared at the brass button on his jacket. “I was upset.”

“Then you should have stayed so we could talk,” he whispered softly, then kissed her jaw. “It’s only been a few days and yet, I’ve missed you dreadfully.”

“Have you?” she asked as her lips tilted upward.

“Mmm,” he said, moving his lips to her ear. “We really need to talk.”

“Yes, talk,” she replied as the heat of his lips against her ear sent moist heat to her womb. They really should talk before they do this again….

He shifted his lips to hers and she was lost. She had no desire for conversation, only for him. Brushing his hair back with her hands, she returned his kiss. His tongue swept across hers, deepening the passion she felt for the man she loved.

As his lips trailed down her neck, she knew they should stop and talk first. But she needed him. Now. If he didn’t return her feelings, this would be their last time together. This might be the last time she could be this intimate with Matthew.

And she could never do this with another man. He was the only one she wanted to comfort her, to be with her. If she couldn’t have Matthew, she wanted no other.

After loosening her gown, he slid it off her body slowly, leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world. And they did. Her mother would understand her need to be with him. The rest of her clothing dropped to the floor in a pile until she stood completely naked in front of him. Unlike the first time, she felt no embarrassment.

“I want to undress you,” she said with a seductive smile. “I want to touch every part of you.”

His eyes darkened to slate. “As you wish, my lady.”

He held out his arms for her to remove his jacket. She skimmed her fingers up his chest to his shoulders, watching his reaction. As she slipped the jacket off him, Matthew kissed the nape of her neck sending shivers down her back. She wanted him now but she needed this slow.

She unraveled his cravat and then slid it over her breasts, teasing him. She loved to watch the emotions play across his face. Lifting his white, linen shirt slowly over his chest, she revealed hard muscle and warm skin. Finally, he grabbed it out of her hands and ripped it over his head.

“Getting impatient?” she whispered in a husky voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, because I have far too much patience today.” She reached for his trousers and then looked down at his boots. “Those have to go.”

His smile turned positively sinister. “Then take them off.”

“Sit down.”

Her body burned from his passionate gaze as he sat on the end of the bed. She stood in front of him and pulled until the first boot popped off his foot. After repeating the motion with the second boot, she put her hands on her hips.

“Now stand,” she ordered.

“Very well.”

She closed the distance between them, letting her breasts rub against his bare chest until he moaned. She moved her fingers down his chest until she reached the buttons on his trousers. One by one, she released the buttons until she could slide his trousers down his legs.

Once she had him completely nude, she brushed her breasts against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Jennette,” he mumbled against her shoulders. “I want you now.”

Arching against him, she whispered, “Now, Matthew.”

Jennette relinquished control to him. She needed him to love her with his strong body, to prove there was even a small chance he might love her.

Leisurely, he lowered her to the bed. The dim afternoon light caught the silvery flecks in his eyes as he brought his sensual lips down on hers. Tenderness and passion mixed until desire overtook them both. He moved his lips down her neck to her breasts and suckled deeply until she squirmed and bucked under him.

“Matthew,” she whispered. The words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Fear of rejection kept her admitting her love.

His lips traveled down her belly, even further until he reached the spot he knew she loved. Her body cried out for his when his tongue rasped against her nub. Feeling the sensations building, she fought against them. She wanted him inside her, filling her, making them one.

“Now, Matthew,” she demanded in a hoarse whisper. She could feel his lips smiling against her thigh.

“Anything you say, my lady.” He rose up, brought her legs with him, and entered her quickly, deeply.

Jennette shut her eyes, feeling the sensations of being with the man she loved.

“Open your eyes, Jennette,” he said.

She blinked to find his face close to hers. Matthew grabbed her arms and brought them over her head, linking hands with her. His body lay atop hers as he slid farther into her and then back out. Pleasure built and she stared into his eyes, watching his expressions.

There was love in his eyes, she was certain. She should tell him. But the pleasure changed to pressure and she had no control. Lifting her legs higher on his hips, he sank in deeper, sending her quickly over the edge.

“Matthew,” she cried but the words she needed to say refused her.

“Oh Jennette,” he thrust once more before stilling his muscles and spilling his seed into her.

She watched as his face contorted in pleasure, and she smiled, knowing she had done that to him.

Matthew awoke slowly. He rolled to his side and watched Jennette sleep. They had a very bad habit of not being able to keep their hands off each other. While this would be a good thing in a wife, she still hadn’t agreed to marry him. Most likely because he hadn’t asked her yet.

He hadn’t wanted to become so carried away with her before they talked. But their lovemaking always amazed him. This afternoon had been different, far more tender and sensual than any other time.

She blinked her eyes open and smiled at him. “I thought we were supposed to talk,” she said softly.

“Hmm, I think we became preoccupied with other things.”

“I think you’re right. We seem to always have that problem.” She rolled to her side and caressed his face. “Matthew, why didn’t you tell me how bad your situation was?”

“I thought I had.”

“I just never imagined you living like this.” She looked around. “I could have at least helped you by hiring a few servants—”

“No,” he interrupted. “I told you before I would not take your money.” Resting against the pillows, he pulled her closer.

“Matthew,” she stared then paused, looking away from him.

“Yes,” he drawled.

“Are you a gambler?”

He chuckled softly. “No, Jennette. I have wagered a few times but I never had the urge to waste my money on a game of chance.”

“What about the wager with Lord Culpert?”

Matthew closed his eyes as his jaw clenched tightly. “It was a silly bet to see who was the better horseman. No money was ever going to exchange hands with that bet. His groom determined later that the horse had a cracked hoof.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“I’m not like my brother or father. Even if I had a fortune, there are far better things to do with money than waste it on a wager.”

With her silence, he assumed she was satisfied with his answer. Not that it mattered terribly since her brother planned to turn over the will. They would create their own fortune. Once he discovered what she still felt guilty over.

“Tell me what you think happened the day of John’s death.”

She stiffened until he started to rub the long length of her back.

“You can tell me, Jennette,” he murmured.

“I hate even thinking about it much less speaking of it.”

“Tell me, Jennette,” he insisted.

“I’ve tried my best not to remember that day, hoping if I could put it out of my mind somehow it might not have really happened.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and looked up at him.

“The night we first made love, I dreamed about it again. Only this time, everything seemed clearer to me. I remembered holding the heavy sword in my hand. And when I should have been looking at John and paying attention to my feet, I couldn’t help but look back at you.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh darling, it was just a dream.”

“No, Matthew.”

“I watched you closely that day because the grass was so slick. I’d told John not to let you take the sword but you both insisted. So I kept my eyes on you. You didn’t look back at me.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I did, Matthew. You might not have noticed but I did.”

“I would have noticed.” He caressed her long tresses. The question burned his mind, forcing him to ask so he could learn the answer. “Nonetheless, why would you have been looking back at me?”

“I couldn’t help myself,” she admitted in a whispered voice.

“Were you attracted to me then?” he asked, praying for the answer he wanted to hear.

She nodded against his chest. “Yes.”

Now he started to understand her guilt. How dreadful to be attracted to a man who wasn’t her betrothed and then to accidentally kill the man she loved. And to have the man she was attracted to tell her of his desire right before she picked up that damned sword. No wonder guilt consumed her.

“The worst part,” she whispered, “is I think John knew.”

The only way they had a chance of being together was if she knew the truth. The entire truth. As much as he hated to tell her, he had no choice.

“He knew. At least, he knew I was attracted to you.”

Her tears rolled onto his chest. If he could take away all her pain he would, but he knew she had to come to terms with this mess. Perhaps talking to him would help her.

“Do you think he’d noticed my attraction to you?”

“I can’t be certain.” He caressed her hair. “He never mentioned it to me.”

“What if he did know?” she murmured into his chest. “I cannot live with that.”

“Perhaps that is why he asked me to protect you,” he whispered aloud.

“I tried so hard not to let my attraction show,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Maybe he sensed your attraction, although I never did.”

“You didn’t?” she said with a sniffle.

“No. For all I could see you both were very much in love.” Her desire for him never meant she loved him. If only she could love him as she did John, he thought again.

“Jennette, if the situation were reversed and John had killed you, would you have wanted him to feel such guilt over an accident?”

“Of course not.”

“There’s something else you should know.” He dreaded telling her but wondered if this might be the only way she could forgive herself.

“What?”

“John wasn’t faithful to you during your engagement,” he whispered. “When I confronted him about it, he disregarded my comments.”

She stilled. “Do you mean he kept his mistress?”

Matthew shook his head, feeling worse about what he had to tell her next. “John couldn’t afford a mistress. He’d taken up with a couple of widows who didn’t need money.”

Slowly she raised herself up off his chest and stared at him. “What do you mean John couldn’t
afford
a mistress?”

How could she not have known? “John’s father had cut off his allowance because of his wild behavior. He had no income.”