Luck Is No Lady (17 page)

“What has gotten into you?”

He pulled her in against him, bringing his other arm up around her shoulders. “Hush,” he whispered against the outer curve of her ear. The warmth of his body surrounded her. She was overwhelmed by his scent, his heat, the thud of his heart against her palm. She was so quickly distracted by him it took her a moment to hear the lady's voice calling quietly.

“Roddy? Roddy, I know you are out here. I saw you just a moment ago in the doorway. Where have you gone?”

Emma turned her head to see a familiar buxom blond standing on the terrace, tentatively searching the shadows of the garden. Humor bubbled in her chest as she realized history was repeating itself. Bentley had hidden from this same lady once before. She turned her face into his chest to muffle the giggle tickling her throat.

His arms tightened around her in a warning to remain still and quiet.

After a few moments, he shifted and she lifted her head to look around. They were alone on the terrace once again. “Still hiding to protect the lady's honor?” she teased.

“Her honor. My virtue,” he quipped.

The sensations in her body were so distracting, it took her an extra moment to realize just what they were saying. She stiffened, but he held her too closely to allow for any retreat.

“Did you know it was me from the start?” he asked.

“I saw you later in the ballroom,” Emma confessed with a flutter of apprehension in her belly. “I recognized the style of your cravat. How long have you known I was the woman behind the curtain?”

“I recognized you the moment you stepped into my office.”

Emma looked up in surprise. His face was angled just above hers. So close his breath brushed her temple.

“But you did not watch me leave. I made sure of it.”

His smile sent a fall of lovely sensations through her body. Sensations that swirled in her center, bringing increased awareness to every nerve.

“I didn't have to watch you leave. I saw your face when you first slid behind the curtain with me. But even if I hadn't, I suspect I would have known it was you that day.”

Emma knew she shouldn't ask. “Why?”

“There is something distinctive about you, Emma. Something…” His voice trailed off and his arms tightened around her. He took a weighted breath then curved his lips in a rueful grin. “You are unlike anyone I have known before.”

His words warmed her, but she was skeptical. “I am not so unusual.”

He chuckled then. “I beg to disagree.”

She shifted her weight to glance back to where the blond had been standing. “I suppose I shall now have to believe your claim that she pursued you, rather than the other way around.”

“It is the truth after all,” he said, smoothing his hand down the curve of her spine until he flattened his palm against her lower back, keeping her body flush against his. “I may not be an honorable man, but that does not mean I do not have discerning taste.” His smile was intimate. “I looked for you that night.”

Emma sighed. What could have happened if things had been different? If they had been free to dance with each other that night. Or tonight.

A hollow ache developed deep in her soul. She tried to withdraw from his embrace.

He responded by locking his arms more securely around her waist and leaning his shoulders back to look down into her face. He was in shadow, so she could not see his eyes, but she could feel the depth of his focus down to her toes.

“Are you going to let me go?”

“Not yet.”

“There is nothing wrong with your cravat this time,” she murmured.

“No. My problem goes deeper than that.”

Emma did not reply. She knew what he meant. She felt it herself.

They stood in silence. Their breathing slowed to a matching rhythm. Every sound from the house faded into the background. Time no longer mattered. Nothing mattered. Not Hale or her responsibilities or her reputation.

“Why does this moment—standing with you like this in the shadows—feel so right?” he asked.

She barely managed to whisper, “I do not know.”

After a moment, he asked, “Did you ever intend to share with me the fact of our first meeting?”

“No. There was no reason to bring it up.” Emma shifted her weight. Her thighs brushed intimately against his, and her low belly erupted in delicate flutters of anticipation. “It had no bearing on our professional relationship.”

His arms slid farther around her, bringing her body flush against his. Her fingers curled over the solid muscle of his biceps, and she resisted the gasp that threatened as she felt his desire firm against her belly.

“What about our personal relationship?” he asked in a raw murmur.

She licked her lips before she replied. “We have no personal relationship.”

“Maybe we should.”

A thousand delicate thrills chased over her skin and Emma felt herself melting into him. He brought his head down alongside hers, and his warm breath fanned across the surface of her bare shoulder, sending tingles down her spine. She slid her hands up to his shoulders and gently tipped her head, ready for his kiss.

The tenuous moment was interrupted as several voices drifted out into the night from the ballroom. They would not be alone on the terrace for long. Before Emma could turn her head to see who was stepping outside, Roderick took her hand in his.

“We have not finished this conversation,” he muttered beneath his breath as he led her from the private alcove and down the stairs into the darkened garden.

Emma did not resist.

She was filled with a near desperate yearning for him, an unrelenting desire to prove herself more than a sensible spinster, to revel in the excitement of not knowing where he would take her or how it all might end.

Hand in hand, they sped down the garden path, turning first this way, then that, until they came upon an arbor tucked along the high stone wall. Honeysuckle flourished there, and its sweet perfume filled the air. Roderick drew her with him until they stood against the wall where only tiny bits of light from the house filtered through the foliage. He urged her back until her shoulders met the rough stone, following her until his body held her there.

Emma tipped her chin to look up into his shadowed face. “I thought you wanted to talk,” she challenged in a breathless whisper.

“This first.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was consuming and fierce. His palms flattened against the wall on either side of her head as he leaned into her. She loved the solid weight of him pressing her back, shortening her breath, holding her secure as her legs went weak. She wrapped her arms around him. The layers of evening wear muted, but did not completely eliminate, the heat of his body and the taut lines of muscle along his spine.

Emma tangled her tongue with his, not caring that they were not far from hundreds of partygoers, concealed only by the foliage surrounding them. Should someone else seek to enjoy the private solace of the garden, they could easily be discovered.

In that moment, she had no concern beyond the amazing wealth of feelings she experienced in Roderick's arms. The rush of blood through her veins, the heat blooming deep in her center, the stark need that had her fisting her hands in his coat.

He stepped into her, his feet braced on either side of hers so she could feel the strength of his thighs. Lowering his hands, he grasped her hips and lifted his mouth from hers. Emma looked up at him with her breath moving swiftly through her parted lips. She really hoped he wasn't stopping. She would give anything for him to keep kissing her right then.

The night shadows kept her from being able to read the expression on his face, but the strong line of his jaw did not bode well.

“I seem destined to play the cad with you.”

His voice was rough and deep. Emma hoped it was because he was feeling the same relentless craving she was feeling.

She lifted her hands to slide her fingers around the back of his neck. “I do not mind,” she murmured as she rose up on her toes and pressed her breasts to his chest. His hands tightened around her waist, but he did not resist. She brought her mouth within a breath of his and demanded softly, “Kiss me again.”

He did not comply right away, and a delicious tension swirled in the spaces between them.

“You make a dangerous request,” he replied darkly.

“Perhaps,” she whispered, “and tomorrow I am sure to question my sense. But right now, I cannot bring myself to care. I want you more than I have wanted anything in my life.”

His response was a low growl from the depth of his throat. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him.

The faint glow of the moon reflected a flash of possession in his gaze the instant before he took her mouth with a hunger that stole her breath. Her entire being hummed with new and wonderful sensations. And when he shifted again to press his hard, muscled thigh between her legs, heat pooled low in her body. She wanted to push against him, to feel more of him there. And then he grasped her buttocks in his hands and pulled her hips toward him. Her thighs parted around his and he leaned hard into her to press intimately to her center.

The contact sent her senses spinning and she turned her head to gasp for a breath. He made another low sound as he took the opportunity to blaze a trail of kisses down the side of her neck to the softness of her breasts where they strained over the edge of her bodice. Keeping one arm wrapped around her low hips to hold her firmly against him, he lifted his hand to palm her breast. She did not realize how much she ached for his attention there until she felt the pressure of his fingers gently kneading.

His adept ministrations intensified the sensation consuming her, until they swirled with delicate focus to where she rested so heavily, so wonderfully on his thigh. She moved her hips against him, and the change in pressure sent a spear of pleasure through her core. A quiet moan escaped from her throat as her limbs tensed.

He murmured against her ear. “Your passion is so beautiful, Emma. What I wouldn't give…” He broke off with a smothered groan to press his mouth to the side of her throat.

She arched in his arms. The heat of his mouth contrasted with the cool night air and sent shivers across her skin. But his words incited a sudden fear he might leave her like this. Determined not to let that happen, she tightened her arms about his neck and pressed her hips more firmly to him. The evidence of his desire pushed hard into her belly and she moved against him, wishing she could reach between them and take his hardness in her hand.

Tension rode high through every inch of Roderick's body as he resisted the need raging within him. Every catch in her breath and roll of her hips brought him closer to the edge of his control. Very soon he would not care that she was innocent. The yearning in his body, in his soul, would shortly overrule the corner of sense still present in his mind.

He could not forget she was of a world to which he would never belong. If he took her—claimed her—like he wanted to, she would be forever changed.

He would truly be a bastard by nature if he allowed her to come to ruin for his pleasure.

Yet he could not stop.

Despite the torturous effect it had on him, he kept feeding her fire—until he could taste her rising passion in her kiss, feel the need growing in her restless movements and the clenching of her fingers. He couldn't stop urging her higher as he ran his hand over the curve of her hip and down the back of her thigh. And when she responded with another gentle moan, he grasped the material of her skirt and pulled it up to bare her leg.

Circling his palm around the curve of her thigh, he reveled in its silken warmth. His fingers eased closer to the heat at her core. She responded with a dart of her tongue into his mouth and a luxurious arch of her low back that flattened her breasts against his chest.

When she lifted her leg, bringing her knee up alongside his hip, opening herself to his touch, the world dropped away. A violent rush of need released his last tenuous connection to reality. No longer able to fight the lust clawing at him, he pressed her against the wall, pinning her there with his hips, holding her firm on his thigh.

She broke from his kiss with a gasp. With one arm secure around her back, his other hand still gripping the curve of her buttock, he peered into her face. The shadows were deep, but not so dark he could not see her eyes gazing up at him, reflecting the magic of the moon.

Her lips were parted and her breath came fast. She clenched and unclenched her hands in the material of his coat. The sweet scent of her surrounded him, making him weak and dazed.

Holding her gaze, he rocked his hips in a deliberate act of possession, his erection pressing hard against her hip.

Her eyelids fluttered and her head fell back, exposing her throat.

He rocked his hips again and she curved her spine—deeply this time—forcing the bare swell of her breasts over the edge of her bodice. It was too much. He lowered his head to dip his tongue into the decadent hollow of her cleavage. She tasted like temptation itself, all melting sweetness and female mystery. Her fingers slid through his hair, holding him to her and he felt near to death with the need to plunge into her body and make her his.

But not here like this.

No. Not
ever
.

No matter how lust-drugged he became, there was one thing he saw clearly—she was not for him.

And yet…perhaps he would never be able to claim her as his own, but he could give her some of the pleasure she sought.

He fitted his mouth against the heavy pulse at the side of her throat. Easing the hard pressure of his thigh, he slid his hand around the curve of her buttock until he reached the slick heat between her legs. She jerked gently at the first touch of his hand. Moisture coated his fingers as they glided over her virgin flesh. Slowly, she softened. With all the artful attention he could manage, he circled the sensitive bud of pleasure at the apex—teasing her, demanding she accept the sensations he evoked. Her body relaxed and tensed in turns. Her limbs grew restless and her breath started to catch in her throat.

His blood ran like fire as her rising passion fed his own. He had underestimated the effect her pleasure would have on him, but he remained relentless in his pursuit to drive her ever higher. He was desperate to show her what joy could be experienced in a lover's arms.

When she began to writhe delicately, he took her mouth again in a passionate kiss as he eased two fingers into her hot sheath. Her tight body softened around the intrusion.

Grinding his teeth to control the violent throbbing in his loins, he began a gentle glide of his fingers in and out of her passage, alternating with lush strokes around her sensitive bud. She clung to him, her quiet gasps interrupting their kiss.

Lifting his head to watch her, he was stunned by the magic he held in his arms. Her eyes were closed as she tipped her face up to the night sky. The beauty in her surrender was astounding, and he felt a wave of possession so overwhelming his legs nearly buckled beneath him.

He plunged his fingers more forcefully into her, grinding his palm against her mound until her thighs clamped around him and the arch of her spine deepened. Her inner flesh fluttered around his fingers. Then her entire body stiffened and her teeth came down on her bottom lip as pleasure claimed her.

He held her trembling body secure in his arms, easing the movement of his fingers to a gentling caress. Though his cock pulsed with an agonizing need, he placed soft, sipping kisses on her lips until she slowly relaxed and her leg eased down the side of his body.

Her breath slowed to a normal rhythm and her hands slid from around his neck to settle lightly on his shoulders. Without a word, Roderick helped to steady her on her feet and straightened the fall of her skirt. The ache in his groin was echoed by the tightness in his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

“Roderick?”

The soft murmur of his name on her lips sent a streak of pain through his center. Guilt filled the hollow places inside him. Her virtue may be intact, but he had claimed her innocence. And he would do it all again. He wanted to right now. If not for where they were, he would commit to exploring every inch of her body and finding new ways to pleasure her for the rest of the night.

With supreme effort, he stepped back enough to allow her to stand on her own without the support of his body. She kept her hands on his shoulders, not allowing him to leave her completely. Lifting her chin, she peered at him through the shadows.

“Are you all right?” she asked gently.

He would never be all right again.

He wanted to growl his response, but instead he took a long breath and answered with a smile. “I should be asking you that.”

She gave a sound that was half laugh, half sigh as she ran her hands down the front of her gown, brushing out the creases that had settled into the fabric.

“I am…” Her soft gaze met his. “I had no idea.”

“Neither did I,” he confessed in a low whisper.

“Did you…?” She paused. “Did you feel the same thing?”

Oh God, she wanted to know if he had climaxed. He shook his head and took another step back from her, needing more distance if he were to regain any semblance of control.

He ran his hand back through his hair and glanced up at the stars, seeking strength in the stretch of sky above. “No,” he finally replied, meeting her gaze again. “This was for you alone.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Why?”

How could he explain that despite how badly he wanted to claim her completely, he never would?

He clenched his fists at his sides as he looked at her. Her features were smooth and unreadable, giving nothing away. She deserved the truth from him.

She deserved a hell of a lot more than that, but the truth at least was something he could provide.

“Nothing can come of us,” he said sternly, realizing he was trying to convince himself as much as her. He lowered his brows. “You understand that, don't you?”

Her gaze roamed over his face, touching on every feature in a careful study. He stood silent under her regard, willing her to see the truth of the matter. “Your virtue is safe from me,” he added bluntly when she failed to respond. “Someday you will find a gentleman worthy of being your husband. I will not ruin you.”

She was silent for several thudding heartbeats, then she gave a small nod. “I see.”

He sure as hell hoped so, because he did not think he was capable of muttering through further explanation.

Her spine straightened and she lifted her hands to smooth her coiffure. Her movements were economical and precise. The passionate woman who had been writhing and gasping only moments ago had effectively been replaced by the practical young woman who took her responsibilities seriously. Roderick almost smiled with the pleasure of knowing he was the only person to see that other side of her, to know what it felt like to hold her magic in his hands.

She held her chin firm as she looked toward the house. “I should return.” Looking back at him, she swept her hands down the front of her gown and asked, “Am I presentable?”

You are gorgeous.

He wanted to say it, but the words could not get past his tightly clenched teeth. Instead, he gently took her face in his hands. He brushed his thumb across her lips, and they parted beneath his touch, her breath bathing his thumb in a gentle caress. Knowing he tortured himself, he could not resist one more kiss. Her taste was saturated with desire and threatened to draw him in again. He kept his lips firm against hers and the contact painfully brief.

When he drew back, the tight ache inside him told him it would never be enough. He dropped his hands to his sides. “I must take leave of you here,” he said quietly.

“You are not going back?”

His lips curved in a tense smile. “I am not exactly fit for socializing at the moment. Besides,” he added ruefully, “I was not invited.”

“Oh,” she said, but did not move to leave their private arbor.

If she did not go soon, he would end up dragging her with him to his carriage, back to the club and up to his bedroom.

He cleared his throat to dispel the thought.

“You should go,” he murmured.

Still she did not step away.

Guilt and lust clawed at each other within him, both desperate to claim greater influence. “Nothing is changed,” he assured through a tight throat. “We are still friends. When you come to the club, it will be as though nothing happened.”

“Do you really believe that?”

The straightforward nature of her question surprised him, though it shouldn't have.

“I have to,” he answered honestly. If he didn't believe it, he would have to accept he could be just like his father, ruining young innocents and leaving them to deal with the consequences. He had not taken her virginity, but he had definitely crossed a line.

She stepped around him toward the path. Her scent drifted toward him as she passed and he tightened his fists to keep from sliding his hands around her and drawing her back into the curve of his body. She stopped just before going beyond the edge of honeysuckle. The moonlight bathed her form in pale light as she turned back to him. “I will see you Monday, Mr. Bentley.”

He gave a short bow of his head, her formality hitting him hard in the gut.

And then she was gone.