TemptressofTime (23 page)

“Loved Monday through Saturday?”

She imagined him shaking his head, denial on his face and in
his eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t loved the women to the depths of his heart and
soul, but he had more than loved their children. And he’d loved William too.
Perhaps even more than the other children because William—who no man claimed as
his—had only himself to rely on.

“I have only truly loved one woman,” he admitted, his voice
a caress along her flesh. His body heat warmed her as he stretched out next to
her. “She betrayed me twice, giving herself to my friend and liege.”

Which made sense in a convoluted way, although doing little
to minimize his guilt for mistreating her in those past lives. Marrying her to
keep her dowry. Dumping her off his horse. Which, no doubt, was exactly how he
meant her to feel. Which meant things could get really nasty very soon.

Think, Diane, think.

“This…my being tied and blindfolded is not how I pictured
our time together,” she told him, striving to keep panic from her voice.
Neither Walker nor Jason would look for her until Friday—two days in which
Adrian would do with and to her whatever he wanted.

“How did you picture our time together? Polite conversation
over tea and cucumber sandwiches? Like brother and sister?”

“Wh-what?” she stuttered, her lungs unable to draw air for
anything more.

“Isn’t that how you see me, Diane? A brother or, perhaps, a
distant cousin. A
kissing cousin
.”

She shook her head. Realizing he might be looking elsewhere,
she said, “I did envision us talking. Touching a little. Kissing…a lot. I more
than enjoy your kisses, Adrian.”

“Just not as much as Walker’s.”

Out of patience, she swore, certain the air turned blue with
her foul language. “If you were so jealous of Walker why—why didn’t you do
something about it
then
?”

“When? Whilst I owed him fealty and he could have killed or
exiled me? Left you a widow a second time? Or while he had every right as your
protector to use you however he wished? I could but hope you realized how much
I loved you.”

“You had a strange way of showing me. In both lives willing
to share me. I don’t remember much of what happened in that first life, but I
sensed
that
in each of you. And you did share me when Henry granted you
permission.” Or was she rationalizing to excuse her wanton behavior?

“Sharing me again, here,” she added, not willing to let him
off the hook for their past lives.

Adrian’s soft laugh raised gooseflesh all over her body.
“Here, we haven’t shared you at all. Is that what you want, Diane? Walker and
me having you at the same time? One in your arse, the other in your cunt?” He
laughed again, a somewhat lighter sound, but still full of suppressed
resentment. “And what of Jason? Where would you put him should we all share you
at the same time?”

Having written just such a scene, she knew what to do with
Jason. Since the occasion would never arrive here, she kept her mouth shut.
Long enough to draw a deep breath then ask, “What could I have done to prevent
your sharing me with Walker?”

The cushion shifted as he sat. He lifted a strand of her
hair, stroked it over her face and neck, her chest and breasts. For once her
body didn’t respond.
Good!
In this situation, with all the anger and
animosity between them, she shouldn’t respond.

So why did she feel so sad?

“You could have told him no.”

“I-I didn’t know I had that power. Walker was as much my
liege as yours.”

Adrian’s soft chuckle sounded more normal and some of the
tension eased from her neck and shoulders.

“Perhaps refusal wouldn’t have stopped him, but we’d have
stood together. That might have made a difference.” A gentle kiss on her cheeks
relaxed her a little more.

“So Walker’s actions were my fault?”

“You wanted him. Since your parents pledged you to
Arnaud—despite your winning every point in your marriage settlement—you wanted
revenge. You got it.”

She silently chewed on that for a while. “You know my
jealousy played a role in that farce.”

“Looking back, I understand why you disliked the idea of
your husband having mistresses. Which allows me to understand your reluctance
to become one in our second life together.”

She laughed and, discovering he’d freed her hands, reached
out to touch his face. Encountering his naked chest, she left her hand over his
heart. “For all I know, you and Arnaud could have shared them. For all I know,
you could have kept them despite my—your wife’s objections.” Would she have
forced him to send them away as Diane de Vesay had in that earlier life?

She felt him shrug. “As to that…I did keep them.”

“Because you loved them,” she insisted, wondering why it
mattered if he admitted or denied it now. That time was over. She hoped. “Admit
it, Adrian. You loved each and every one of them.”

“I may have. A little.” He drew a deep breath, exhaled it along
her neck. “I justified it to myself, thinking I gave them affection you didn’t
want.”

A strangled sound—half sob, half laugh—escaped her lips. “I
don’t know how you could have loved me—her. That other Diane. She was—”

“Imperious. Self-centered. Vain and willful. She—
you
also had the most glorious laugh, the most beautiful green eyes, the most
luscious body a man—
I
had ever heard or seen. I may not have liked you,
Diane, but I loved you in all the ways that mattered.”

“You lusted for me.”
So did Walker.

“Still do.”

He slid her open hand down his chest to his cock. His very
long, thick and hard cock. As she curled her fingers around him, he untied the
cravat that had kept her sightless. Seeing the contrast of her pale fingers
surrounding his reddish, golden-brown erection awakened her lust.

Leaning over, she ran her tongue around his glans, then
licked precum from his slit. He sucked in a breath, released it on a hiss.
Encouraged, she took him into her mouth, making gobbling noises like a woman
starving for food. That had them both laughing. When he flipped her to her
back, she squealed, then sighed as he lapped her from clit to channel and back.

Lost in his musky scent, his slightly salty taste and the
pleasure sounds he made as she sucked and licked, she forgot anger and
resentment. Almost forgot how to breathe. Went cross-eyed when her climax
ripped through her. Needing stability in a spinning vortex, she dug her nails
into his thighs and sucked harder as he erupted deep in her throat.

When she recovered enough to move, she sat up, pulling her
chemise over her breasts and knees. Adrian retrieved his shirt and donned it,
eschewing smallclothes and breeches. His billowing shirt hung halfway down his
thighs, making her marvel at how smooth his breeches fit despite the voluminous
fabric beneath. Perhaps his valet bundled the material to Adrian’s backside and
hid it under his coattails.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, sounding as polite as a
stranger standing with her on a terrace outside a ballroom.

“I’d appreciate sharing your body heat.” His arm circling
her, she leaned into his warm. “I’d also like to talk more about our previous
lives. I—”

“Sunday,” he said, kissing her until she forgot everything
but the demands of her body and how well he could meet them.

* * * * *

Friday morning

Her truncated conversation with Adrian disturbed her sleep
and, no doubt, his as well. In all probability that was why she’d awakened
alone. Either that or he wanted to avoid meeting Jason and had left early
enough to ensure it.

What she couldn’t avoid was thinking about how she felt
about her men.

Her men.
That alone said a lot about her feelings for
them. What she would do if they demanded she pick one, she couldn’t say. She
liked them both in very different ways.

Adrian still reminded her of the boy next door in his
openness. He also seemed determined to see his woman happy. And even though she
hadn’t been around while his niece and nephews were growing up, she knew he was
a loving and devoted uncle. She doubted that would change—even in her modern
world. But had he taken one or more of the Days to his bed? Did she really want
to remember if he had? Remember how his wife might have punished him? That
woman was a shrew, unlikable in any manner. Or perhaps, like her modern self, merely
frightened of being at men’s mercy?

Fidelity doubts raised warning flags, despite believing he’d
not followed in Arnaud’s footsteps and had had multiple mistresses. What about
one mistress? What about
her
as his one and only mistress?

Wednesday’s encounter revealed he also had a dark side. Kind
of scary and exciting at the same time.

As for Walker…he confused her more and more. The days they’d
spent together alone had exposed facets of his personality she hadn’t expected.
She’d thought him incapable of relaxing, of lowering his guard enough to tease.
He’d be strict with his children while loving them with all his heart, no
matter where or
when
he lived.

Of the two, he’d be more difficult to live with. Moody.
Given to introspection more than reaching out. Expecting others to live up to
his expectations.

Gee, Di, recognize anybody else in that description?

Okay, put aside all that intellectual bull—balderdash.
How
do I
feel
about them?

Margaret all but danced into Diane’s sitting room. Holding
out a wide-brimmed straw bonnet, she announced Jason awaited below.

Shoving aside her worries about Walker and Adrian, Diane
donned her hat and draped a paisley shawl over her arm. Just in case the
weather changed.

But when she stood at the top of her marble staircase,
looking down at Lord Jason Leveson’s admiring expression, those feelings she’d
tried to shove aside smacked her right in her heart.

She loved both Walker and Adrian and nothing—not even
mind-blowing sex with anyone else—would ever change that.

“Since the day is fine,” Jason greeted as she descended the
curving marble stairs to the ground floor, “I thought we might enjoy your
folly.”

Folly?
Oh yes, her folly of having sex with two men
and anticipating adding a third. When they all came together on Sunday—
Came
together?
She shoved wanton images of them all naked on her bed.
Sunday
,
they could heap recriminations on each other’s heads, but at least she’d learn
more about why this traveling through time had happened. And, hopefully,
discover how to get home.

“‘Tis some distance away,” Jason went on, drawing her into
the moment. “I took the liberty of ordering a pony cart.”

“Oh,” she muttered, “
that
folly.”

His melt-her-clothes-off gaze suggested he knew what other
kind of folly she’d thought he meant.

“Shall we?” Offering his arm, he opened the door to bright
sunlight that made her blink. “Your parasol awaits,” he told her as he guided
her to the cart then assisted her into it. His fingertips brushed hers as he
transferred the open parasol to her. Her hands tingled, making her wish she’d
worn gloves. Which she would likely lose before the day ended. She doubted
other men Jason’s age would have thought of opening the umbrella for her. Which
led her to wonder what other adult activities he might surprise her with.

“You needn’t try so hard, Lord Leveson. The same rules apply
to you as to the duke and earl.”

“Since they have known you longer, I feel I must do more to
ensure you remember me.”

“Does that mean I might forget our acquaintance when I
return to my own time?”

His charming smile scolded her obvious ploy to pump him for
information. Clucking to the horse, he set them on their way, affording her a
view of his profile. She found it as attractive as the rest of him and wondered
if he’d let her make a shadow portrait of him.

On a silent huff, she wished she knew
how
she knew
certain customs of the time—like shadow portraits—existed, yet didn’t know if
she could properly ask him to sit for one. She wanted to question him about so
many things, but suspected he wouldn’t answer. Which would fuel her frustration
and ruin a lovely day. In truth, she wondered what he had planned to ensure she
remembered him always.

“Do you reside in London?” she asked, cross with herself for
the question’s phrasing.
Yes
or
no
wouldn’t tell her one thing
more.

Jason, however, gave a complete and forthright answer. “I
prefer the country. My older brother, however, believes every gentleman should
have at least one London season before rusticating for the rest of his life.”

“An interesting turn of phrase. I hadn’t heard of gentlemen
having seasons. Fortunate for you, the
ton
doesn’t count the number of
seasons a gentleman has.”

“How many had you?” His cheeks flushed as if he belatedly
realized how rude the question sounded. Yet he continued to meet her gaze. “Not
more than two, if that. I wager you were proclaimed an
Incomparable
from
the outset. Had men falling at your feet.”

“Only at the feet of my fortune,” she told him, uncertain
about her own certainty regarding her fortune’s attraction. “My suitors didn’t
know I would control my funds and properties even after marriage.”

Poor dead David hadn’t known that marrying him had given her
control of her assets several years before anyone had envisioned. Her marriage
had also given her the freedom to live as she pleased. Rusticating in the
country while David had his London season. Just how she knew all that she
didn’t know. It somehow didn’t seem to matter.

“Walker and Adrian did not pursue you?”

She shook her head, unable to recall anything more about her
season or her men. Selective memory might serve the men’s purposes, but did
nothing at all for hers.