One Sinful Night (18 page)

“I'm just trying to tell you—”

She interrupted him. “You have no right to tell me what to do, and you gave up any rights to me when you broke our engagement and left Galway ten years ago.”

“I think I have some claim over you after all the years we've known each other and grew up together,” Aidan persisted indignantly. “You have to listen to me on this, Vivienne. It's for your own good. You don't know what he's like. He is a ruthless, heartless man.”

“Then he's just like you,” she seethed. The stunned expression on his handsome face told her that her words hit home. He rallied quickly though.

“I see you had many admirers this evening,” he taunted wickedly, his green eyes narrowing on her. “But then again you always did have more than your fair share of ardent admirers, did you not, Vivienne?”

Her eyes flew open at his insinuation that she had taken countless lovers. He thought her a loose, immoral woman. But after yesterday, what else could he think? She stared up at him angrily. “Your jealousy is quite apparent.”

“Jealousy implies that one covets something,” Aidan said smoothly, the lines of his face filled with disgust. “I was merely stating the obvious.”

“Get out of my room. I'm not interested in anything you have to say.” She glared at him. “Nor am I interested in a repeat of yesterday.”

He took a step toward her and said wickedly, “Liar.”

Her heart pounded in her chest at the predatory look on his face. “Get out of my room before I scream to high heaven.”

His smile was seductive as he advanced on her. “You won't scream,” he dared her.

“Don't try me, Aidan.” The air fairly cracked with the impassioned tension between them so intensely were they aware of each other's physical presence.

“Are you going to cast a spell on me, little witch?” he taunted her, his face coming closer and closer to hers.

“I already have, don't you know?” she said fiercely as her brogue became more pronounced. “And I'll haunt you forever,” she threatened him.

Her pulse quickened and there was a tingling in the pit of her stomach. He was so close she could smell the light cologne he wore, but the scent was distinctly Aidan. She was suddenly fearful of what could happen between them. Half hoping for it, half dreading it.

“Oh, I know you have haunted me, Vivienne. You've haunted me for ten years. Tortured me. That's the only reason I can explain why I care enough about what happens to you to warn you from Harlow. It's the only reason I can explain why I'm here in this room alone with you,” he said low, his expression dark and forbidding. “To try to get you out of my head once and for all.”

“Get out!” she cried. With both hands, Vivienne shoved as hard as she could against his broad chest.

Catching him off guard, Aidan stumbled briefly, but then steadied himself and lunged for her in an instant. She stepped away from his grasp in an agile movement and continued scurrying backward as he advanced on her. The determined look on his face caused a rush of panic to rise within her. Suddenly she felt herself falling backward as she tripped over a small footstool that was on the floor behind her. Aidan's arms grabbed her before she fell, steadying her.

“Don't touch me,” she cried, although she did not resist when he pulled her closer to him, against his chest. A sense of strength and warmth radiated from his chest and the sound of his heartbeat echoed wildly in her ears. She could not breathe when she was so close to him. His muscled arms held her tightly. It should not feel so good to be embraced by him. But it did.

“If I recall, that's not what you said to me yesterday afternoon.” His voice sounded huskier than usual. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and she shivered in response.

“That was before I knew just how much you still despise and distrust me. Now, let go of me, Aidan,” she demanded forcefully, unable to break his grasp on her.

“First look me in the eyes, Vivienne, and tell me that you don't want me to kiss you right now,” he whispered seductively, brushing his lips across her cheek.

His mouth moved closer to her lips, and she murmured a weak protest, “Don't…”

“Say it, Vivienne,” he whispered provocatively into her mouth, his lips hot against hers. “Tell me not to do…this.”

One hand held her to him, while the other moved down the length of her back. She felt his heated touch on her skin as if the sheer cotton of her nightgown were not there at all. She arched involuntarily toward him. His hand cupped her buttocks and squeezed, pressing her against the hard bulge between his legs.

She had every intention of saying no. In fact, her mind screamed it quite forcefully. But her body betrayed her. She could not resist him. She could not withstand the desire that flooded her senses. It was Aidan, after all.

Her hands clasped eagerly around his neck and her mouth sought his. He had expected resistance from her, and when she responded by placing her arms around him and pressing herself against him, he murmured an oath and kissed her deeply, his tongue entering the warmth of her mouth. She was lost then. There was something about this man that weakened all her resolve. All her restraint. As it did with him in the portrait gallery just yesterday. As it did when she was seventeen.

As it did now. So she surrendered to him.

“Vivienne, Vivienne,” he murmured as he backed her slowly toward the bed.

“Aidan,” she breathed his name in response, her voice tremulous and soft. She returned his kiss passionately, her tongue swirling into his mouth.

His heated kiss, his warm tongue, his gentle hands guided her where she wanted to go. Step by step they moved slowly toward the bed. Toward the inevitable. The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed and they stopped and gazed at each other. She almost could not breathe in anticipation.

Aidan unfastened the clasp on the back of her nightgown and tugged it below her shoulders. The sheer pink material slid from her body, and she stepped out of it, leaving her naked before him. He growled low in his throat and gently pushed her backward. Vivienne's pulse raced and her hands shook in response to his need.

It was happening again and she could not stop it. Would not stop it. She wanted it too desperately. She wanted him to kiss her senseless. She wanted to feel him inside of her. As they fell onto the soft mattress together, he positioned himself over her. His mouth came down over hers and they kissed hungrily, as if yesterday hadn't happened. As if this was their last chance together. And it more than likely was. But she could not let herself think where this would lead. There was no thinking now. Only feeling.

Only Aidan.

Naked beneath him, she lost herself in the feel of him on top of her. More, more, more. She wanted more from him. Yesterday was not nearly enough. In her heart she knew she could never have enough of Aidan.

Her hands found the front of his shirt and her fingers hurriedly worked the buttons free. He groaned in pleasure as her hands touched his bare skin. She splayed her fingers across his broad chest, his skin hot to the touch. His upper body was smooth and muscled with only the finest curls of dark hair covering him. Her hands stroked lower and lower, pressing against the swelling hardness in his trousers. Impatiently she tugged him free, greedy for him. Within seconds he was as naked as she was.

At one time they had known each other's bodies so intimately that now it was like coming home again. The familiarity, the possession, the knowing. It was all theirs.

He rolled over, placing her above him so she straddled his hips. Vivienne began placing hot kisses along his chiseled chest, her hands caressing him, her dark hair falling like a curtain around her. She kissed his taut stomach, inching lower and lower, below his waist until she eventually took the length of him in her mouth. Aidan groaned her name in a long hiss as she stroked his hardness with her tongue. He was heated silk and smooth firmness in her mouth.

After yesterday's frantic session in the portrait gallery, she wanted to savor this unexpected time together. Aidan must have wanted the same thing, too, for he slowed them down by urging her to release him, pulling her back up toward him. Her mouth sought his and they rolled over each other again, the heat between them making their skin hot to the touch.

With Vivienne beneath him once more, he took both her small hands in his and held them above her head, languidly lavishing kisses upon her cheeks, her neck, her breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed and she shivered in expectation. His hand moved down the length of her, cupping her, his fingers playing her expertly. Her breath mingled with his, their bodies fused together. In essence, they were home again. He released her hands and she reached around and caressed his back, running her hands up and down his firmly muscled arms and shoulders, the back of his neck, and stroking his thick hair. He kissed her breasts, licking her nipples. His mouth moved lower, along the firm plane of her smooth stomach, across the sensual curves of her hips, to rest intimately between her legs. Spreading her a little wider, his tongue delved deep within her until she squirmed restlessly. It was heaven. Deliciously wicked to have Aidan touch her so thoroughly. Until she could not breathe from the pleasure he created within her.

Suddenly Aidan's mouth and fingers ceased their decadent ministrations upon her body, and she gasped in protest. He raised himself up on both arms, positioning himself between her legs. He plunged into her, sinking deeply into her warmth, inch by delectable inch. This is what she wanted, what she had craved. What she had missed for ten years. The feel of Aidan inside of her. The pleasure was almost unbearable. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his eyes impassioned and questioning.

“Oh, Aidan,” she murmured low, feeling as though she might cry from the swell of tangled emotions that bubbled within her.

He kissed her tenderly in bittersweet understanding. He touched her face, her hair, almost reverently. He breathed her name in the softest sigh. This wasn't like the frantic, mad coupling in the portrait gallery. This was something entirely different. This was deliberate. Soulful. Cherishing. Aidan began to move within her unhurriedly, and the sensations were so exquisite she lost herself. There was nothing except the two of them, locked in this intimate dance and nothing else in the world mattered. They gave of each other freely, savoring each touch, each kiss.

They made love dreamily, intensely, as if they had never been apart. As if they were still together. From his indolent caresses, his movements became more sensuously frantic, more urgent and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. Vivienne panted with exertion to keep up with him. She didn't want it to end, but heavens, she was so close…

A shrill scream of outrage suddenly split the silence in their room.

Frozen in place, a sick sense of dread in the pit of her stomach and the feeling of ice water in her veins, Vivienne peeked over Aidan's shoulder, as Aidan turned his head toward the source of the scream.

Lord and Lady Cardwell stood in the doorway wearing their nightclothes, their expressions horrified. Glenda Cardwell's wide mouth hung open in awe.

Beneath Aidan, a mortified Vivienne released a shrill exclamation of sheer panic. Rolling off her, Aidan hurriedly concealed both his and Vivienne's nakedness with the bedspread, a feeble attempt at dignifying an extremely embarrassing situation.

Aghast, Lady Cardwell covered Glenda's curious eyes and ushered her daughter frantically from the room, while Lord Cardwell's voice thundered in outrage.

“Good God, boy, what gives you the right to take such liberties with my niece?”

“What is going on? I heard a scream as I was walking by—” Lady Whitlock called lightly, then she saw her son. “
Aidan?!
” she shrieked. Horror-struck by the sight in the large four-poster bed, her hand flew to her heart.

Aidan's low voice rang out, “If you would allow us a moment of privacy, we can discuss this later.”

“There's nothing to discuss, young man! You're marrying Vivienne before the week is out!” Lord Cardwell boomed, his round face mottled in outrage.

Susana Kavanaugh fainted on the spot, her body crumpling like a rag doll to the floor. Lord Cardwell rushed to assist her, momentarily forgetting his anger while he bent over the unconscious woman at his feet. At that moment Jackson Harlow appeared in the doorway behind Lord Cardwell. He stood silently, taking in the scene with hard eyes.

“Give me a hand, Harlow!” Lord Cardwell called in irritation.

Without a word, Jackson Harlow helped Lord Cardwell carry Lady Whitlock from the room.

“I'll be back in five minutes!” declared Lord Cardwell emphatically, with a final glance at the two shamed faces in the bed.

When the door closed, Aidan dared a glimpse at Vivienne, whose cheeks were a flaming scarlet. He flung back the blanket, leapt from the bed, and began donning his clothes as quickly as he could. He found Vivienne's pink nightgown on the floor at the foot of the bed and tossed it to her.

“Get dressed,” he ordered coldly, “before your aunt and uncle return.”

She still had not moved, the enormity of the situation weighing upon her. She shook her head woodenly. “I don't want to marry you, Aidan.”

“Doesn't look like you have much of a choice in the matter now.” His voice was clipped and harsh. “Neither do I.”

He knew he should be kinder to her, for they had just been caught in a most shameless and compromising position, but he was too angry with himself. It was entirely his fault. He never should have come to her room in the first place. He lost all control when he was with Vivienne and he should have known better. Now he was going to have to marry her.

He watched as she quietly dressed herself, and found himself still amazed at her beauty. Her dark hair tousled, her cheeks flushed, her lips full and red from kissing him, she climbed from the bed, donned a wrapper from her wardrobe, and stepped into a pair of slippers. But God, it had been heavenly between them a moment ago. It was an excruciatingly frustrating and unfulfilling end to what began as a pleasure he hadn't had since…since the last time he was with Vivienne.
Ah, hell
.

There was a forceful knock on the door. Aidan glanced at Vivienne and she nodded her head. He opened it and her aunt and uncle entered. Lord Cardwell seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but Lady Cardwell, her lace nightcap flapping, fairly flew to Vivienne's side.

“Vivienne, darling, are you all right?” She put her arms around her niece in comfort as they sat on the rose velvet divan in the corner. “I must say the two of you gave us quite a shock.”

“I apologize for that,” Aidan said gravely, standing like a stone statue near the mantel.

“Your mother is recovering from the upset, Lord Whitlock, and would like to see you as soon as we are through here,” Lady Cardwell said to Aidan, her tone surprisingly sympathetic.

Vivienne spoke, her voice trembling. “Aunt Gwen, Uncle Gilbert, I am very sorry to have shamed you both this way.”

“No,” Aidan admitted forcefully. “This was not Vivienne's doing. It is I who must take the blame for all this. It was entirely my fault. I came to her room uninvited.”

“You know what must be done then,” Lord Cardwell stated with an implied threat in his words. “I won't have my niece's name ruined, Whitlock. You got her into this mess. You'll have to see it through.”

“Yes, of course,” Aidan stated hollowly. “I will marry her.”

“But I don't want to marry him!” Vivienne protested, her voice rising in panic.

“Well, missy, you should have thought of that before you invited him to share your bed,” Lord Cardwell muttered crossly.

Aidan cast a glance in Vivienne's direction. She sat huddled with a pink robe clutched tightly at her throat, her long black hair spilling around her shoulders. Her aunt sat beside her, patting her back soothingly. He felt terrible. Like a cad. A villain. A rake. Guilt, sorrow, and shame flooded him. But not regret. He only regretted that it had ended so abruptly and terribly. God, that thought provoked him. How had this happened? Where was his well-renowned self-control when it truly mattered?

“I gather this was not the first time?” Lady Cardwell questioned them in a gentle tone, glancing between them.

Neither Vivienne nor Aidan could honestly deny it, so both maintained a guilty silence, avoiding each other's eyes.

“I thought as much.” Lady Cardwell shook her head with a resigned little sigh. “I suspected something was between you after you sang together at the musicale. Jane even questioned me about it.”

“That settles it!” Lord Cardwell declared, looking pointedly in Aidan's direction. “Since she may already be carrying your child, Whitlock, you will marry her as soon as we return to London. I shall obtain a special license on Monday.”

“Yes, of course,” Aidan responded in a vacant tone. He had not thought of those consequences, and he very well should have. There was no way out of this one, he was the first to admit.

Lord Cardwell continued in a voice much lower than his usual volume. “We will do this discreetly. I want no breath of scandal to taint either family's name. We shall just have to say Whitlock asked for Vivienne's hand in marriage after the ball and I agreed, although that will be difficult for some to believe since earlier tonight I gave permission to more than a few gentlemen to court her. Perhaps it will look like I'm just indulging my love-struck niece. Luckily, Harlow gave his word to keep the matter quiet. I must say he was most disappointed, Vivienne, since earlier this evening he had asked my permission to court you when we returned to London. Unlike a certain gentleman in this room.”

Once again Lord Cardwell gave a pointed look toward Aidan and Aidan took his meaning. Obviously her uncle was unaware of the history between him and Vivienne. Which perhaps was just as well. For what difference did it make now?

Lord Cardwell's voice echoed in the silent room. “So consider yourselves engaged to be married as of this moment.”

Aidan finally looked directly at Vivienne. The anguish in her eyes caused his heart to sink. Once, in a different time and place, Vivienne had wanted to marry him.