TemptedByHisKiss (21 page)

Coming back to herself, she realized that he was still stroking inside her, thrusting in a kind of mindless frenzy as he sought his own satisfaction. Breaking their kiss, Cade buried his face in her neck, breath sighing from his lips in ragged draughts as he plunged in and out.

Abruptly, he stilled, his whole body shaking as he poured himself inside her in violent, shuddering spurts, one fist curled into the sheets next to her head as he claimed his release. He collapsed against her then, his cheek pressed to hers with an intimacy she found shattering. Stroking his hair, she kissed his damp temple, in that moment loving him all the more.

After a time, he levered himself away and rolled onto his back, taking care to position her so she would not be lying against his injured leg. Tugging her across his chest, he cradled her close, then fell asleep almost instantly.

A minute later, with his comforting scent in her nose and his warmth surrounding her like a blanket, she closed her eyes and did the same.

G
entle sunlight was filtering through the curtains when Meg awakened early the next morning. Stretching out a hand, she searched for Cade, but instead of warm male flesh, she found only an expanse of cool, linen sheet. Her eyes popped fully open to stare at the empty space where he had lain, a faint dent visible on her spare pillow.

Swallowing down her disappointment, she called herself a simpleton for having expected, even in passing, that he might still be here with her. Of course he’d needed to leave, she realized, well aware that the servants rose at daybreak to begin their daily tasks, yawning sleepy good-mornings to each other as they roamed the house like a small army of industrious ants. Letting the servants catch her and Cade together would be highly unwise—even a staff as circumspect as the Duke of Clybourne’s. Obviously, Cade wanted to protect her reputation, and for that she should be grateful.

Whatever time he left, it was clear he’d taken care not to wake her. Then again, she’d been slumbering so deeply she probably wouldn’t have heard him even if he had stomped around and clapped his hands. As it was, she’d barely gotten more than a couple hours rest all night.

Lord, he wore me out, she thought. But deliciously so.

Warmth stole into her cheeks as she remembered the night just past and the way Cade had made love to her. She’d fleetingly considered such matters before, wondering vaguely what it might be like to lie with a man. But nothing had prepared her for the reality, nor for the pleasure—the intense, bone-deep rapture that even now seemed to resonate in her body and blood.

She supposed she ought to regret the loss of her virginity, but she could not. How could she, when she had given herself to the man she loved? And love him she did, the knowledge shining inside her with the brilliance of a star.

But what of Cade?

A little frown settled between her brows at the thought.

He’d said nothing to her last night, had spoken no words of devotion, made no promises to turn their engagement from a game of pretend into the truth.

But he will
, she assured herself. He just hadn’t had time to declare himself. When we see each other next, he’ll draw me aside somewhere private, take me in his arms, and confess his love.

But what if he didn’t? What if he couldn’t because he was still in love with a dead woman? She knew he’d suffered watching Calida die, and grieved deeply over her loss. Was it too soon to think he might be able to
move forward? That he might be able to love again?
Love me?

What if last night had been nothing more than a physical release for him, with none of the emotional attachment? Having grown up surrounded by naval officers and sailors, she wasn’t so naive that she didn’t realize how men could be. That they were entirely capable of seeking pleasure with a woman without the necessity of love. Had last night been no more than an impulse for Cade? Had he lain with her but was even now regretting it?

Refusing to let herself consider such a possibility, she tossed back the covers and started to swing her legs out of bed. But the smear of blood between her thighs made her pause, that and the fact that she was stark naked. Suddenly she felt vulnerable, unused to sleeping without clothing.

As for the blood, she couldn’t very well strip the sheets and replace them herself. Hopefully her maid would assume the few drops on the sheets were from her monthly rather than from the loss of her virginity during a night of torrid passion.

Seeing her nightgown and robe lying neatly at the foot of the bed, she realized that Cade must have put them there for her before departing. Thankful, she reached for the garments, then rose to pad across to the bathing chamber.

Several minutes later she returned to the bedroom, refreshed after a sponge bath. Clad once again in her nightgown and robe, she was contemplating whether to crawl back into bed for another hour’s sleep when something winked at her from beneath a chair. Curious, she crossed and bent to retrieve the tiny object.

It was a gold button, she realized, as she studied the small metallic circle in her outstretched palm—Cade’s gold button, torn off his waistcoat last night. A memory came to her of more than one sailing free as he stripped off his clothes, flashes of the way he looked naked turning her warm all over again.

A search of the carpet, however, revealed nothing further. Perhaps he’d found the other button and taken it with him. Gazing at the bit of gold, she studied the pineapple design embossed into its surface, rubbing her thumb over the faint ridges. She supposed she should give it back to him, but instead moved to her dressing table and laid it down next to the drawing propped there.

The picture was the one his little sister, Esme, had done of her and Cade all those weeks ago. When she originally set the sketch there, she’d told herself it was because it was a gift from a very delightful girl with a great deal of native talent. But she knew better now, knew she’d displayed it because the drawing contained a likeness of Cade. Running her finger in a gentle stroke over the paper, she closed her eyes and let herself dream.

Cade rose early and rang for Knox, wanting to dress and be out of the house before everyone else was awake and insisting he join them for breakfast.

But even after the servant had come and gone, and Cade stood carefully groomed and attired in fawn pantaloons and a dark blue coat, he didn’t leave, guilt chaffing him like an angry rash.

God, what a cad I am, he thought, sinking down into a nearby chair. He had completely lost his head last
night. One touch, a kiss, and every ounce of caution, reason, and yes, honor, had flown straight up the chimney stack like so much ash.

He supposed he had the excuse of remaining celibate far too long, since he’d never gotten around to visiting one of the city’s brothels and availing himself of a convenient lightskirt or two. Perhaps if he had, he might have possessed the strength to resist Meg’s bewitching spell last eve. Then again, considering the depth of his hunger for her, he rather doubted anything could have stopped him, except Meg herself.

He remembered how he’d tried to convince her to send him away, practically begging her to deny him. Instead she’d welcomed him into her arms, and then her bed and her body.

Another man might have set at least a portion of the blame on Meg’s doorstep, but he knew the fault was not hers. No, as she so amply proved with the loss of her virginity, she’d been an innocent, unaware of the implications or the consequences of her actions. He’d been the experienced partner, and as such, responsible for what passed between them. If he were any sort of gentleman, he would go to her now and offer her marriage in truth rather than their current sham engagement.

Confound it, though, he cursed, disarranging the hair he’d so carefully brushed only minutes ago by raking his fingers through it. He no more wished to be married now than he had when he left Northumberland! In that regard, nothing had changed. Calida’s memory still haunted him, as did the circumstances of her death. Although he supposed lately he spent a great deal more time thinking about Meg than he did the sweet, happy girl he had once loved and promised to marry.

Calida hadn’t been dead a year. What kind of man was he to forget her so soon? What kind of fickle creature was he to mourn one woman yet be avidly lusting after another? Apparently, the kind who compromises trusting young virgins living under his protection, he berated himself, as a double-edged stab of guilt twisted in his gut.

But Calida was dead and he could do nothing for her. As for Meg…well, she deserved far better than he was capable of offering. She deserved a man who could love her with his whole heart, not some battle-scarred ex-soldier who was rumored to be mad. One who had relied on alcohol and reclusiveness to blot out his physical pain and dull his unhappiness.

How easy it would be for him to sink back into that life. From day to day he worried that he might. Whenever his leg ached, the temptation returned. Whenever the nightmares came, he found himself reaching for a drink. But he didn’t, because of Meg.
Yet, even sober, look what I’ve done.

He’d taken her innocence, but that didn’t mean he had to destroy her life.

Of course, he might have done that already, since many men would balk at the prospect of marrying a girl who was no longer a virgin. Then again, none of her prospective suitors would know unless she told them, and any man who truly loved her would surely forgive. A man like Lieutenant McCabe perhaps, he thought, squeezing his hands into fists. McCabe would be good to her. He would be kind. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Meg hadn’t brought McCabe up to scratch by now, since anyone could see the fellow adored her.

Cade shot to his feet and stalked to the window. Star
ing out blindly, he fought the sudden fury churning in his blood, half crazed by the idea of some other man lying with Meg, claiming her body and making her his own. Closing his eyes, he laid his forehead against the glass.
I am not for her. As much as I crave her, I will bring her nothing but sorrow.

And if the lieutenant, or some other man, refused to take her? Well then, he would step up and do the right thing, whether he was wrong for her or not. If necessary, he would marry her. He would not see her ruined and shunned. But until that time came, he would leave things as they stood. He would also stay the hell away from her. I must, for both our sakes, he silently resolved.

Yet it wouldn’t be easy. Now that he’d had her and knew how exquisite she felt moving under him, her gentle warmth clasping him tight as a glove, he knew that putting her aside would be yet another torment.
But I shall manage…I hope.

With a rueful grimace, he glanced down at the rampant erection tenting the front of his pantaloons.
Christ, just the thought of her makes me randy as a goat.
If he weren’t trying to stay away from her, he’d go to her room now and take her all over again.

Gazing into the stable yard, he watched the activity below, striving to regain his equilibrium. At least she’d done as he asked, and hadn’t ridden out to meet Everett this morning. Impetuous girl. To think that she was trying to spy on Le Renard so she could unmask him…to think she would do such a brave, foolish thing—for him.

But he was the one who needed to take care of Everett. He’d set one man on his trail already, but the idiot had obviously been outwitted, since he hadn’t taken
note of Everett riding in the park with Meg. A huge lapse that had gotten the man sacked. Cade knew someone else, someone thoroughly reliable, who could trail a cat without the creature knowing. Now, when Lord Everett made a move, he would know. When the traitorous blackguard made a mistake, he would be there to catch him.

Another glance down confirmed that he’d regained enough control over his lust to make him presentable in company. Preferring not to encounter Meg, he went to retrieve his cane. Taking it in hand, he headed for the door and the coach waiting for him outside.

“Is Cade not coming with us?” Meg asked Mallory that evening while they stood in the foyer waiting for the others to join them.

The other girl turned as she finished drawing on her white gloves. “No, he said he had another engagement. I thought you knew.”

“Oh, I…of course. It must have slipped my mind.” She hid her dismay by smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from the skirt of her pale peach silk evening gown. “Ah, well, he never really enjoys the opera anyway.”

Mallory chuckled. “Cade says he’d rather hear owls screech in a barn than listen to the current flock of sopranos. I, for one, cannot agree. I love the opera.”

Meg sent her a teasing glance. “Do you, now? I wonder, though, if a measure of your admiration might be due to the anticipated presence of a certain gentleman. I understand Major Hargreaves plans to attend the opera tonight.”

“Really?” Mallory said with supposed nonchalance. “I had no idea.”

Meg caught her eye and the two of them laughed.

Before she could quiz Mallory further about the state of her relationship with the major, Edward joined them. A few moments later Ava strolled down the stairs, looking every inch the duchess in a gown of vibrant ruby satin. Crossing the marble-tiled expanse, she accepted her pelisse from a waiting footman.

“If you ladies are ready,” the duke said, “I believe we should be going.”

An hour later Meg sat in the Clybourne box, listening with only half an ear to the performers on stage. Despite the smile on her face, her spirits were far from buoyant. Why, she wondered again, did Cade not join us tonight? Even more, why had she seen nothing of him all day?

After ringing for her maid to help her dress that morning, she’d calmed her nervous excitement, then gone to breakfast, fully expecting to see him. But he never appeared. Over hot tea, flaky scones, and eggs, she learned that he’d called for his carriage quite early and departed for some unknown destination. It had taken all her fortitude to act as if the news came as no great surprise, nor that she felt disappointment.

The rest of the day had flown by, her schedule as full as ever. Nevertheless, a part of her continued to hope he would arrive at whatever function she might be attending. Once there, he would quietly pull her aside so they could talk.

But again he did not arrive.

He is simply busy
, she assured herself as a new tenor burst into song on the stage. Perhaps he is planning to come to my room again tonight, so we can talk then. Pleasurable tingles skimmed over her skin at the idea, her smile turning dreamy.

When the interval arrived, she and the others left their box to mingle with friends and acquaintances in the candlelit corridor. As predicted, Major Hargreaves appeared at Mallory’s side, the girl making no effort to conceal her delight at being in his company. The duke was drawn off to talk politics with a pair of serious-minded older gentlemen, while Ava turned away to chat with a group of friends she had apparently known since girlhood.

Sipping from a small glass of cordial, Meg discovered herself momentarily alone in spite of the heavy crowd. A faint touch at her elbow drew her glance, her eyes widening at the sight of the tall man with gleaming blond hair and a dazzling white smile standing at her side. Her heart gave a leap, but not in a pleasant way.