My Lady Vixen (44 page)

“Aye, I would do anything to protect Adam’s babe. But I never became Charles’ mistress! Never!”

“You told all this to Adam?” asked Mac, astounded. “I can’t believe Adam would continue to feel as he does after he learned about his child. Is it a girl or boy?”

“A boy,” Alexa smiled fondly. “I named him Davie. And … and I never told Adam about his son.”

“Not told him! My God, Alexa, are you crazy? You can’t keep something like that from Adam!”

Alexa’s chin rose belligerently. “I can and I will!”

“But why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does to me. What if Adam decides to take his son
away from me? He has the right, you know. I told you he hates me.”

“Did he spend the night with you, Alexa?”

“Aye,” she admitted grudgingly.

“Then he can’t hate you that much, can he?” Alexa stared at him dumbly. “He did make love to you, didn’t he?”

“Aye, but he’s a man.” Alexa replied tartly, as if that explained everything.

“Tell him about his son. Alexa.” Mac urged gently.

“No, Mac, not yet. I will, but not until I can make him love and trust me again. I won’t take the chance of losing my son. He can have all I own, but not my child. Davie is all I have.”

Mac shook his head, thoroughly disgusted. “Do you want me to tell him?”

“No, Mac, please, you must promise me! Let me do it in my own way!” Alexa pleaded, her sudden pallor alarming Mac. “I’d die if Adam took Davie from me! I’ll tell him, truly. Just give me time to convince Adam I love him and never meant him any harm.”

Alexa became so distraught that Mac was forced to agree, albeit reluctantly. “All right, Alexa, but if this gets out of hand I swear I’ll tell Adam myself.”

Shortly afterwards both Mac and Alexa retired to their respective rooms to dress for dinner. Adam had not yet returned and Alexa suddenly recalled that she had forgotten to inform Mac about the other dinner guests Adam had invited. She wished that she had remembered so she could ask him who they might be.

Alexa appeared in the dining room to find Mac already there though Adam was still curiously absent. “You look enchanting. Alexa.” Mac complimented, his eyes dancing appreciatively over her trim figure clad in
apricot silk. The gown, which bared her neck, throat and shoulders, was caught up at intervals around the skirt with maroon rosettes to reveal a maroon petticoat deeply flounced with apricot. Loose puffed sleeves displayed dimpled elbows and slender arms.

Alexa hoped that Adam would concur for she had gone to great lengths to look her best tonight for him and his friends. Thinking about those mysterious guests, Alexa was about to ask Mac if he knew who they might be when she heard voices in the hallway.

“Ah, it seems your errant husband has finally arrived,” Mac said, turning expectantly toward the doorway.

Adam chose that moment to grace them with his presence and Alexa knew immediately he was not completely sober. He still wore the same clothes he had on last night and he looked thoroughly rumpled. He slanted an oblique look at Alexa, a look that told her nothing. Ignoring her, he addressed Mac. “You received my message, I see,” he drawled lazily, careful not to slur his words. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“You left me no choice,” Mac intoned dryly. “I returned to my lodging to find you had all my trunks sent here.”

“I trust my wife made you comfortable?” His icy eyes slid to Alexa, widened slightly when he noticed for the first time how fetching she looked, then turned toward the door where two women poised uncertainly on the threshold. “Come in, ladies.” He smiled charmingly.

Mac groaned aloud. “Oh, no, Adam, how could you?” He shifted his gaze to Alexa who stood rooted to the spot, a statue made of cold marble, and just as beautiful.

Gallantly escorting the women into the room. Adam announced rather smugly, “Alexa, I’d like to present Lucy and Fannie, both well-known to theatergoers about London. Ladies, you already are acquainted with my good friend. Mac. And this,” he gestured expansively, “is
my wife, Lady Alexa.”

“Your wife!” squealed Fannie, dismayed. “But you never told me you had a wife!”

“Does it matter?” Adam shrugged carelessly. “Has it ever mattered to you?”

Fannie’s China blue eyes grew wide as she looked from Adam to Alexa. What she saw in Alexa’s steady gaze must have soothed her ruffled feathers for she immediately snuggled close to Adam, smiling up at him in a flirtatious manner. After all, half the men she took to her bed were forced into loveless marriages they didn’t want. She made their life more bearable by providing what their wives could not or would not. “No,” she cooed silkily, “It matters not at all, luv, else why would you have brought me to your home?”

Alexa finally found her voice. “This is my home and I strongly suggest. Adam, that you take your … er … friends elsewhere to dine. I refuse to entertain your doxies.” With a flip of her hair and a tilt to her chin she prepared to leave the room, but Adam’s steely grip upon her arm prevented her.

“This is my home, Alexa, and these are my friends. Now sit down so we can enjoy our meal.”

Mac thought to intervene but found no need to when Alexa drew herself up to her meager height and said with all the contempt she could muster. “Go to hell, Adam!” In a froth of swirling silk she was gone, leaving only the tantalizing scent of her perfume.

The moment Alexa exited the life seemed to have gone out of Adam, leaving him totally deflated. After that he became surly to the point of rudeness, relying on Mac to carry the conversation despite his friend’s rage at Adam for playing the fool.

Adam barely touched his food, but it did not stop him from imbibing freely. He was angry. Angry at Alexa for
refusing to remain and be humiliated by him, and angrier still at himself for bringing the whole mess down on his own head. In the beginning it seemed such a good idea. He meant only to hurt Alexa as she had hurt him. He never really wanted Fannie. During the interminable meal he could not help but contrast her coarse beauty and overblown figure with Alexa’s refined loveliness and petite form, and the actress fared poorly.

He had thought it would amuse him to watch Fannie and Alexa eating at the same table, knowing that they shared the same man. But it hadn’t worked the way he planned. A wry grin lurked at the corners of his mouth when he remembered the way Alexa’s eyes had spit violet fire at him. So like his Vixen. His Vixen! Bah! His and Charles’s, and how many others? he asked himself, his thoughts turning sour.

Across the table from Adam, Mac seethed inwardly with silent rage. How could Adam act such a perfect bastard with Alexa? If only he hadn’t promised Alexa he’d keep her secret. Mac chided himself, for if Adam continued to act in such a despicable manner Mac was uncertain how long he could hold his tongue. He itched to get Adam alone and give him a thorough tongue-lashing.

As things turned out Mac did not see Adam alone that night. After their prolonged dinner. Mac was pressed into escorting Lucy back to her lodging and once there the pert brunette had little difficulty persuading him to her bed. Mac was after all a virile man.

As for Fannie, she was more than happy to place herself in Adam’s care. Her body trembled with anticipation, and when they reached her rooms. Adam suddenly found himself reluctant to partake of what the lady so freely offered.

It was very late when Adam let himself into Ashley House. Grumbling loudly, he stumbled through the darkened house, found the stairs with great difficulty and climbed them cautiously. He paused before Alexa’s room, rattled the doorknob and cursed roundly when he found it locked. “Damn it, Alexa, let me in!”

Startled out of a deep sleep, it took Alexa several minutes to gain her wits. In the meantime the pounding continued. “Did you hear me, Alexa, open the door!”

“Go away, Adam,” Alexa shouted back. “Your room is at the end of the hall!”

“This is my room!”

“No it isn’t! What’s the matter, Adam, did you tire of your whore so soon?”

“Fannie has nothing to do with this. Let me in!”

“Go to hell!”

Fury nearly choked him as curses fell from his lips. “There’s no door strong enough to keep me out!”

Alexa froze, chillingly aware of his formidable strength when roused to anger. Still, she could not help calling out once more, “Go to hell!”

The angry retort hardened his features with determination as he began slamming his shoulder into the thick panel. Alexa heard rather than saw the lock begin to weaken. She leaned over and lit the lamp just as the door crashed open, and suddenly he loomed above her, his expression thunderous, his breath ragged with impotent rage.

Alexa paled, clutching the sheet about her throat, her own temper rising in response as she flashed him a look of defiance. Her accusing tone stabbed the air. “What are you trying to do, Adam? Humiliate me? Punish me? Well, you succeeded nicely by bringing your doxy into my home. But that doesn’t mean I am obliged to cringe before you and pretend to be the dutiful wife!”

God, she was magnificent. Adam conceded grudgingly. How could he ever think another woman could satisfy him? Alexa was his wife no matter what she did and he wanted her. Now!

Alexa watched, stunned, as his anger turned to lust before her eyes. “No!” she warned. “Stay away from me!”

He cupped her chin in his palm, forcing her face upward to meet his gaze. Then he halted her frantic words with his mouth as he fell heavily atop her reclining form. The feel of her sweet flesh against him released all the fury, all the anger that had gnawed at him for months. He held her head steady, forcing her to accept the punishment of his kiss. He pried her lips apart and thrust his tongue into her mouth, knowing he was bruising her soft lips, yet unwilling to stop.

She felt his manhood huge and hot against her belly through her thin nightgown, and she closed her eyes tightly. “I will hate you for this, Adam,” she whispered, gritting her teeth.

She heard his hissing breath. “The feeling is mutual!” he snarled, hating himself for his words as well as his complete loss of control. Unable to halt his course of retribution, he quickly tore off his clothes, reared up, pulling apart her thighs, and plunged into her unwilling body. He did not touch her with love as he wished to do, ignoring completely her pounding fists and cries of rage and pain. He grasped her hips and drew her upwards to impale her completely. He knew he was hurting her and wanted to fling himself away and beg her forgiveness. She screamed when he thrust brutally, spilling his seed into her. Then he jerked out of her and rolled off to the side, his breath heaving.

Alexa refused to cry: she was beyond tears. She felt degraded and used. Not even in their earliest times
together did Adam treat her so shabbily, taking her in a hurtful manner with neither love nor compassion. In her heart she knew it was over between them. His actions just now proved he really did hate her.

Adam spoke, so low Alexa had to strain to hear him. When she understood what he was saying she could do little more than stare at him, mouth agape. “I’m sorry, my love. God, I didn’t mean to hurt you! I drank too much and when I returned to find you had locked me out I became like a wild man. I never meant to force you. Rape isn’t my way.”

“Why did you come back at all, Adam?” Alexa asked softly. “Your actions tonight made it perfectly clear that you preferred Fannie. Well, you’re welcome to her. She’s nothing but a cheap little tart who doesn’t know enough to keep her legs together. Was she unable to satisfy you. Adam? I know how demanding you can be,” she added sweetly.

“Damn it, Alexa. I didn’t bed Fannie tonight if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No? You reek of her cheap perfume!”

“Who are you to talk, my love? You were Whitlaw’s mistress.”

“Never! I was never Charles’s mistress!”

Adam felt his anger build again. One minute he was ready to kill her and the next he wanted … Suddenly his anger dissolved as his need for her consumed him. He rolled toward her, taking her lips gently, seducing her with his tongue. He kissed her mouth, her wet eyelids, the tip of her nose. He slipped his hand between their bodies and let his fingers find her belly, pressing lower, teasing her, probing her gently.

“No,” Alexa moaned softly, but her body was straining against him as her resistance ebbed.

“You are moving against me. Alexa,” he breathed into
her mouth. “You are growing moist and warm beneath my fingers and I feel you quivering with passion.”

“No! I won’t listen!”

“Feel how much I want you again,” he said, pressing her belly against his hard manhood, molding her soft hips against him. “I want to feel myself deep inside you.”

He kissed her breasts and she felt ripples of pleasure course through her. She writhed against him for relief, an ache beginning at the center of her femininity. Sensing her need, he slipped his knee between her thighs and pressed upward. Crying out, she moved against him wildly, by now far beyond herself.

He continued to kiss and suck at her nipples while his hands moved torturously between her legs and into her moist flesh. He removed his knee and knelt over her, savoring every part of her beautiful body. He lowered his head and began to nibble at her belly: her soft cries made him tremble with desire. He lifted her buttocks and her legs opened of their own accord, offering herself to him. He nuzzled and teased her with his tongue, wanting only to give her the greatest pleasure possible to make up for hurting her earlier. When he felt her stiffen on the verge of climax, he raised up, parted her and thrust his full length into her warm, moist body. Just as he was thrusting inside her, he captured her mouth, his tongue thrusting in the same manner.

Beside herself. Alexa wrapped her legs about him, bringing him deeper still, and Adam felt his control dissolve. He rode her boldly, and she met his every thrust until her body began to convulse with the painful pleasure and she was falling, swirling, merging with him into an abyss, possessing, being possessed. He heard her final cry, felt the tremendous shudder, and released the tenuous hold he had on reality.

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