Jenna Petersen - [Lady Spies] (19 page)

He held up a hand. “No, thank you.” He could barely speak as he fought a sudden ache in his chest. “I think I’d like to take a walk around the grounds if you don’t mind.”

The woman nodded. “Of course. Don’t hesitate to ask any servant if you require assistance.”

He nodded as he made for the door. The cool air hit him like a wall and he realized how stifled he’d been inside, surrounded by another man’s life.

But Mrs. Gray said Ana was happy, after all this. Happy. He just didn’t see it. There were always walls she erected. He’d thought her emotions were clear on her face the first day he met her, but since then he’d come to realize just how complicated she was. How much she concealed. How much he wanted to know that was buried beneath the surface.

He wanted to know everything. And he wanted her to be what the housekeeper had claimed. He wanted the joy and hope that he’d seen in that portrait.

But
he
wanted to be the man who put it in her eyes. His feelings had changed somewhere in the weeks
they’d worked together. What had at first been mere lust and fascination had altered, shifted to something deeper. Something more.

And yet she was still in love with someone else. Someone he couldn’t compete with and couldn’t even hate now that he’d seen his portrait.

“Damn it.”

He paced along the lawn, moving away from the house toward some hills a few hundred yards away. He just needed to move, to run from the ache that was starting to build inside him. Why was this happening? It made no sense.

He crested the first hill and looked up. What he saw brought him to a shocked halt. Through a little grove of six or seven trees, he saw the outline of a low fence that surrounded a tiny graveyard. And just as he suspected, Ana was there. She was looking down at a headstone that had to mark Gilbert Whittig’s grave.

He found himself moving forward, even though he didn’t want to hear. Didn’t want to see.

“I will never forget,” she said, reaching down to let her fingertips trail along the top of the stone.

Lucas screwed his eyes shut. More of the pain he’d felt the night before, the pain he’d been feeling all day, rushed back. But this time it was even more powerful than before. Those words were the most hateful he’d ever heard. Here, practically on the eve of her wedding day, Ana was…what was she doing? It sounded like pledging her continuing devotion to a
dead man. Nausea churned in Lucas’s stomach at the thought.

Ana turned and jumped as she saw him standing not ten feet away.

“Lucas!” she cried. “How long have you been there?”

He was ashamed to have been caught, especially with his emotions so raw and twisted. “Not long. May I escort you back to the house?”

She took a last glance at the headstone, then nodded. As she slipped her arm through his, he, too looked back. Was there any overcoming such a powerful love?

He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was willing to try.

Ana looked at her shaking hands, then back up in her reflection in the mirror. Lord, she was pale. Then the light caught on the band of gold around her finger.

She was married again. A wife again.

As if reading her thoughts, Lucas appeared behind her in the reflection, his gaze focused on hers in the mirror. She stiffened as he reached for her, his warm hands cupping her shoulders before he turned her.

His warmth surrounded her, his masculine scent weakened her and then he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. The touch was soft, gentle, but heat was behind it all. A heat she could not deny anymore…and truth be told, she didn’t
want
to deny it.

She had said her good-byes to Gilbert. She had ac
cepted the future she’d never considered for herself. And she was willing to be a wife in more than just name to Lucas.

If he wanted that. Despite the flash of desire in his stare as he pulled away, she wasn’t sure what he wanted. He was too difficult to read. Would it always be that way? A wall between them? A knowledge that this marriage wasn’t one either of them had chosen? Would there only be desire, perhaps even respect, but nothing deeper?

And why did it matter? Did she really want more?

“Are you ready to face them?” Lucas asked, offering her an arm.

She laughed.
Them
was a small collection of friends and family who had gathered below to celebrate this union.

“I’ve certainly gotten my fair share of practice when it comes to my acting abilities on this case,” she said as she took the arm he offered.

His smile faltered as he led her down the stairs into the foyer. “Yes.”

She tilted her head at the sudden shift in his posture, the way the lines of his face drew down. But before she could ask him about any of it, he moved them into the parlor. Suddenly, they were surrounded by friends, being kissed by family. With a warmth building in her, Ana looked at the wide smiles every one of her new in-laws flashed.

She belonged with them now. Unlike the remnants
of her own broken family. She searched the room and wasn’t surprised not to see any of her older siblings. It was so late in the Season, they were all back at their country homes. Too busy with their own families to see her married.

With a sigh, she shoved the past aside. Whatever had brought her here, this was where she belonged.

“Congratulations!” Meredith was suddenly at her side and she was wrapped in a bone crunching hug that she returned without hesitation.

When she pulled back, she saw her friend’s eyes misted with tears.

“Don’t forget, Mr. Tyler, that this woman is my best friend,” Meredith continued as she shook Lucas’s hand. Ana was sure she saw him wince in pain for a brief moment before he pulled away.

“I don’t think I could forget, my lady,” he said with a laugh as he subtly shook his fingers and offered them to Tristan. “Lord Carmichael.”

Tristan shook his hand with a solemn smile before he kissed Ana’s cheek. “Should we go to Emily? I can tell by her face that she’s going mad confined to that chair.”

As they moved toward her, Ana looked across the room at Emily, who was seated in the most comfortable chair in the house. Though she was pale and her face occasionally twisted with pain, she looked so much better. For that, at least, Ana could be grateful.

“Thank you for coming over,” Emily said as they
reached her. “I was beginning to fear Lady Greenwich was planning to come by and regale me with more home remedies for my ‘ailment.’”

“That story is working then?” Ana asked.

“Yes, everyone believes I was struck by a fever and am slowly recovering.” Emily batted her eyelashes. “Do I look the part of the demure convalescent?”

Lucas choked out a laugh. “I cannot picture you reclining prettily while you are waited on, no.”

Emily shot him a brief smile, though Ana could see her friend sizing him up. And she felt the same analysis when Emily’s bright blue eyes moved to her.

“Henry!” Lucas called out, waving as his friend was wheeled into the room.

Both Meredith and Emily looked at Ana before each woman craned her neck to see the other man.

Henry’s servant maneuvered him through the crowd toward their small party. Ana couldn’t help but notice the stares of the other guests, but Henry didn’t flinch or even seem to notice their expressions. His gaze was too focused on Lucas.

She looked at her new husband. Though Lucas had a friendly smile, there was something in his eyes that said he was troubled. And something stiff and strangely formal about the way he shook Henry’s hand when his friend reached them. A little hope flared in her chest. Was he beginning to believe her?

She watched as Lucas introduced his friend to their group and also watched the way her friends interacted
with the man she suspected of so much evil. Consummate professionals that they were, neither her friends, nor Tristan, betrayed their inner thoughts or suspicions about Henry.

“Lady Allington,” he said, sparing a quick glance for Emily. “I’m glad to see you recovering well.”

Emily arched a brow. “Thank you, Lord Cliffield. I appreciate that.”

His gaze darted away from her and hit on Ana. For a moment, she thought she saw his eyes narrow, but then his expression became kinder. “Congratulations, Anastasia.”

Lucas stiffened at her side and his smile grew tighter as she answered, “Thank you. I’m so glad you could come.”

He nodded. “I do have a bit of business to discuss with Lucas, though. May we talk for a moment in private?”

Lucas hesitated, but then nodded. “Yes, of course.”

With a brief look for her, he excused himself.

Tristan smiled. “Clearly you all need drinks. I shall return.”

Meredith smiled as he made his way into the crowd and Emily laughed. “He has good instincts, I will give him that.”

Ana smiled, too, but the expression was forced. She was too busy thinking about the way Lucas looked when Henry came in. And worrying as she remembered
that flash of panic in Henry’s eyes when she questioned him about his position in the War Department. If her fears about Cliffield were correct, Lucas could be in grave danger. Being best friends with a traitor couldn’t be a good position.

“What did you think of Henry?” Ana asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

“Something seemed off between him and Lucas,” Meredith said as she rose up on her tiptoes to watch the two men leave. “A stiffness. Is that usual?”

Ana shook her head. “No.”

“I spoke to Charlie before Tristan and I left for your wedding.” Meredith folded her arms.

Ana smiled sadly. How she wished he could have been there, but there would be no way to explain his presence when he was not a member of Society’s upper echelon. To keep their relationship a secret, he had stayed away.

“He says he has a stack of paperwork about Henry and his activities to review with you.”

She nodded, her heart skipping more quickly at the news. “Good. I’ll make my way to his office tomorrow and review what he’s found.”

“Will you bring Lucas with you?” Meredith asked. Emily leaned forward to hear her answer.

“No.” Ana sighed as she thought of his reaction to her accusation the last time. “Until I have solid proof, I won’t bring the subject up with him again. I don’t
know whether to hope to God I’m right about the man or hope to God I’m wrong. Either way, Lucas will be hurt.”

Emily drew back a little and exchanged a brief, but meaningful look with Meredith. Ana held back a curse.

“You’re worried about Lucas’s feelings?”

Ana folded her arms. “Of course I am, he is my husband.”

Emily snorted. “Not out of choice.”

“Emily!” Meredith interrupted.

But Ana shook her head. “You’re right, Emily. This marriage is not one either of us foresaw actually coming to fruition. But it doesn’t change the fact that it has happened. It also doesn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t willingly harm Lucas for all the secrets of all the villains in England. And if Henry turns out to be as wicked as we suspect, that will break his heart. If he doesn’t—” She cut herself off with a wince.

“If he doesn’t?” Meredith asked, her voice more gentle than Emily’s.

“Then I will have damaged their friendship irrevocably. I saw the hesitation in Lucas’s eyes when Henry approached. He will never forgive himself for that if our accusations are proven unfounded.”

“Hesitation?” Emily repeated. “I never saw such a thing.”

Meredith shook her head. “Nor did I.”

Ana stopped as the full ramifications of her friends’ statements sunk in. Lucas’s emotions were as stoic to them as they always had been, but Ana knew what she’d seen.

Which meant that she knew Lucas. She could see the subtle nuances in his expression that gave away his heart. Like a good wife would.

Meredith touched her arm. “I worry about you in this marriage. I worry about the fears and guilt you discussed with me before.”

Ana bit her lip. “I don’t know what the future will bring for me. But I went to Gilbert’s grave and I…” She hesitated. “I said good-bye to him. I can’t live in the past. Perhaps it’s time to allow the future. And that future is, for better or for worse, with Lucas now.”

For a moment, neither of her friends had readable expressions. But then both of them seemed to relax, as if they had been waiting a long time for that statement. And when Ana thought about it, she realized they probably had.

Lucas had said it to her many times. She lived holding up Gilbert as a shield, using her grief as an excuse to hide. To fear. To keep life and the world at an arm’s distance.

And now she didn’t feel the weight of keeping up that facade. For the first time in a long time, she looked forward to living. And she looked forward to seeing what a marriage with Lucas would bring.

L
ucas opened the door to his bedchamber and motioned for Ana to enter. For a moment, she couldn’t make her legs move. She’d been in his home…no,
their
home…before, but never upstairs. Never in his private quarters.

She sucked in a breath and forced herself to walk inside. The room wasn’t anything like she’d pictured it, and she
had
pictured it in detail in her darkest fantasies. Somehow she’d thought it would be mysterious and sinful and everything Lucas embodied.

Instead, it was filled with light from candles and the glowing fire. Friendly. Open. Exactly the kind of room she would have wanted if she had closed her eyes and
envisioned a chamber of her own. And then she saw the bed.

Big and soft and just beckoning to be laid in, slept in…a place to make love all afternoon, all night.

She turned her face, the heat of a blush warming her cheeks as Lucas shut the door behind them. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t escape him so easily. Her thoughts reminded her that this home was the first place they’d made love. Angry and passionate love.

Now it would be different. Now she was Lucas’s wife. And she no longer had the guilt of Gilbert’s presence hanging over her, making her curse every touch as much as she welcomed it.

She lifted her gaze to Lucas. What was he thinking? What did he want from this reluctant union?

“There is a sitting room here,” he said, his voice gruff as he motioned to a door beside the bed. “And through that is the other bedchamber, your chamber.”

She nodded, but made no move to go through the door. “Do you want me to sleep there?”

She held her breath as his eyes moved to meet hers. The stare was blatant. There was no misreading it. She would not be sleeping in the other room tonight unless that was her demand.

“No. I want you here. With me,” he admitted. “But I realize you may not desire that. And I would not force you—”

She smiled as she stepped toward him and reached
up to cover his lips with two fingers. “Look into my eyes, Lucas. What do I desire?”

His expression shifted, as did his posture. The hard edge in his eyes softened, the stiffness of his shoulders relaxed. Slowly, he darted out his tongue and stroked across her fingers. Immediately, her knees went weak.

He lifted her fingers away from his lips and pressed another kiss against her wrist, up her forearm, to the crease of her elbow. Her sleeve was in the way then, so he put her hand on his shoulder instead and glided an arm around her waist to pull her closer.

She sighed as her breasts brushed his chest. Heat and need burned at her, but he would relieve the desire. And this time there would be no fear of interruption. They had all night and a big, comfortable bed to explore their every wish.

She did want to explore, too. In the past, she’d allowed herself to be swept away. But tonight, she wanted to see Lucas’s body, to take her time and touch him, learn how to bring him pleasure.

Her fingers trembled as she hooked them against his unbuttoned jacket and slowly worked the heavy fabric off his shoulders. It hit the floor with a loud crumple and all the intense body heat that had been caught within the folds of fabric curled out to wrap around her.

She flattened her palms against the broad expanse of his chest and reveled in the low, feral growl Lucas made when she smoothed her palms down.

“Ana…”

With a smile, she whispered, “Just let me touch you, Lucas. I—I’ve been too afraid to properly do it in the past.”

His expression softened again, and her chest ached at the sight. “You aren’t afraid now?”

She shook her head. “No. For the first time in a long while, I’m not afraid.”

He swallowed hard enough that she saw his Adam’s apple work, then his embrace loosened. He let his arms drop to his sides, and she knew he was giving her what she had asked for. Access. Freedom.

The idea made her giddy with power, yet she still felt lost. What did she know about pleasing a man? She only knew what things Lucas did that made her gasp, which touch made her quiver.

Her lips tilted into a smile. That was all she needed. She’d use her own body as a guide.

Drawing a deep breath, she went to work on his shirt. He shed it to join the pile on the floor. Her heart raced as she stepped back to look at him. It had been a while since she saw him bared like this, but her memory had not been faulty when it recalled him as beautiful, perfect. He was those things and more. He was hers.

She leaned closer, letting the tips of her fingers slide against his skin. He hissed out a breath, but he didn’t move. Didn’t wrap his arms around her, though his
fingers fisted at his sides. It was clear he was fighting his instincts in order to give her the power and pleasure she craved. Ana’s heart soared as she lifted her lips and pressed them against the ridge of his collarbone.

Lucas tried to think about anything except the brush of Ana’s lips against his skin. Anything to stay in control. Anything at all. It wasn’t working, of course. Her touch was too intoxicating not to filter into his wildly racing mind, not to dull his reaction to everything except for her. She
was
everything.

And she was focused on him. Only him. Her lips drifted in soft caresses across the chest, sweeping back and forth as she inched lower. Lucas shut his eyes and fought to keep a groan from escaping his lips.

Another battle lost.

He had been with women who were more experienced than Ana, but none of them had ever made him feel like he did when she darted her tongue out to swirl it over his skin. No one had ever made his body so hard. Certainly, no one had ever involved his heart in seduction.

Ana did. Ana always had. Without trying, she brought him to his knees. And if she pulled away, he would be on those very knees begging.

But she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her soft lips around the flat disk of his nipple and sucked ever so gently. Pleasure crashed through him, and his good
intentions were lost. He let out a cry as his fingers found their way into Ana’s hair, sending pins scattering while her locks tangled around his hands and wrists.

She glanced up at him without breaking contact. He expected her to be timid, as she had been the first time they touched. Pull away. Apologize. Instead, she winked.

Lucas’s mouth came open in shock, and his erection, which had already been straining, swelled even harder at her uncharacteristic boldness. There
was
a wicked temptress under those spectacles. He’d always sensed it and suddenly she was there, gliding her mouth across his chest to repeat the same explosively pleasurable caress on his opposite nipple.

“Little minx,” he growled as he clenched his fingers against her scalp and tilted her face up. Ana arched a brow in challenge and it was just too much. He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Her arms came around his neck and she lifted up on her tiptoes to meet the fire of his kiss with equal passion and need. He slipped his hands from her hair and the heavy length of it fell around her back as he stroked his fingers down her spine. She shivered, but didn’t break the kiss. Not until he cupped her backside and lifted her off the floor against him.

“Lucas,” she moaned, clinging to him tighter. Her leg hooked around his back as he moved toward the bed. Now it would be
their
bed, and he had the rest of his life to explore every inch of this woman’s
body and introduce her to all the pleasures he could think of.

That was an overwhelmingly erotic thought.

He set her down and instantly went to work removing her gown. He hardly even looked at his fingers as he unfastened buttons and clicked hooks free. All he could do was watch her face, feel the brush of her fingers as she stroked her hands up and down his bare sides.

As the last of her clothing fell away, Ana sighed with pleasure. There was something undeniably erotic about the way the fire warmed her naked skin, the way Lucas’s heat warmed it even more. The way her bare breasts were just tantalizing inches from Lucas’s chest.

He lifted her onto the mattress and joined her at her side. For a long moment, he didn’t touch her, just leaned on one elbow and looked down at her. There was such tenderness, such warmth, to his expression that tears tickled her eyes at the sight.

“I want to please you,” she whispered. For the first time she was able to say such a thing without blushing.

He smiled. “You please me enormously. More than any woman I’ve ever known. I wonder how you know how to do that.”

Now the heat she had been able to stifle came to her cheeks. “I think of all you do that pleases me and do the same.”

The warmth and gentleness that had been in his
eyes flicked away, replaced by hot, possessive desire she had seen many a time before. Her body reacted to the sight of it, nipples hardening and wet heat flooding her thighs.

“Do unto me as I do unto you, eh?” he asked as he finally placed the flat of his palm against her bare belly.

She gave a mute nod, too caught up in sensation to form coherent words.

“Then let me give you a wider education.”

He sent her a heated stare before he rolled over to wrap his body around her. For an all too brief moment, she felt the swell of his erection through the fabric of his trousers, but then he was sliding down, down, down. He mimicked the things she had done with her mouth earlier, stroking her skin with his lips as he edged at a painfully slow pace to her nipples. When his breath steamed hot against the peaks, she arched up with a wail of pleasure.

He chuckled against her skin as he suckled there, plucking the sensitive flesh until she thought she would burst from the pleasure that shot through every nerve in her body and settled, heavy and wet, between her trembling legs.

Lucas wasn’t done yet, though. He continued his journey down her body, tasting every inch of her skin, nipping her with gentle teeth, arousing her to a feverish level that had her tossing her head back and forth against the soft pillows.

His tongue slipped over her hip as he parted her legs with one hand. Ana’s eyes flew open as she realized what he was about to do. She could scarce believe it, but then it happened. He pressed his mouth against the apex of her thighs.

Steamy heat burned at the sensitive outer lips of her core, and she let out a cry of pleasure and surprise. Lucas pressed a gentle hand against her belly to hold her steady while he opened her with the fingers of his opposite hand. His mouth returned, tongue teasing the slick opening, moving aside folds of sensitive flesh until he stroked the hooded button of pleasure at the top of her entrance.

Ana shivered with the feeling, gripping the pillows, the sheets in an attempt to gain purchase over the powerful sensations her new husband was creating with his skillful tongue. Her hips lifted of their own accord, pushing his hand up even as he exerted force to hold her still. Yet his mouth played on. He suckled, he stroked, he thrust into her. With each action, her body tipped closer to madness, the edge of coming undone. She seemed utterly out of control of her body now as she trembled and bucked under his gentle touch.

When he swirled his tongue one final time, she couldn’t hold back any longer. Every fiber of her being exploded into a colorful kaleidoscope of pleasure. She trembled as wave after wave washed over her, washed her away. She lost her breath, lost her voice as
she screamed, and yet he went on and on, continuing his torment until her last shudder of pleasure ended.

It took her a blurry moment to realize he was getting up. She opened her eyes wide, blinking as she tried to focus past her still shaking body.

“Lucas?” she murmured breathlessly.

He smiled as he shoved his trousers and boots away with impatient fingers. “I’m not finished yet,” he reassured her as he rejoined her on the bed.

He pulled her over on her side so they lay face to face. His erection, now gloriously bared to her hungry eyes, pressed hot against her belly, twitching every time she drew a panting breath.

“You want to please me?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she groaned as she clenched her fingers into a shaking fist against his bare hip. “Yes.”

“Seeing you find release like you just did gives me more pleasure than you can imagine,” he murmured as he caught her by the waist, dragging her on top of him as he rolled to his back.

“Lucas?”

“Straddle me,” he ordered.

Normally, she would have considered this just another of his overbearing demands. But there was a slight tremble to his voice, a flash of pleading in his eyes. He needed this. Wanted this. And as unsure as she was, she was more than willing to give him what he desired.

She spread her legs, and gasped as the length of him
stroked her wet cleft. He shut his eyes with a harsh curse and the cords of muscle in his neck flexed.

“Yes, like that. Now just ease me inside and—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his direction. She repositioned herself and took his length into her in one smooth movement. They both moaned in unison at the feel of him stretching her body, filling her completely.

She moved and gasped at how full she felt in this position. How much control she had over the power and speed of her pleasure. And judging from the way Lucas moaned whenever she did so much as flex, the speed of his release, as well. With a wicked grin, she began to move in slow, rolling motions. But as Lucas’s fingers tightened against her backside, as he pulled her forward to latch onto her nipple with his mouth, the control she’d been so pleased with faded. It was replaced by a wild drive to release, both hers and his. Her hips moved uncontrollably as the pressure built with blinding speed and finally she threw back her head and cried out, only to hear Lucas’s moans join hers as he spilled his essence deep into her clenching body.

With a last groan, she collapsed onto his sweaty chest, shivering from the power of their joining. They lay like that for a long time, clutched in each other’s arms.

After her heart rate returned to normal, Ana began to brush her hand back and forth along Lucas’s hip.
She loved the feel of his skin, the bulge of muscles beneath, the slick slide of lusty sweat.