The Widow Wager (16 page)

“I think we should discuss this plan of yours,” Gemma said softly from across from him.

Crispin barely suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t truly expected a quiet drive home. He opened one eye and found his wife wringing her hands in her lap, staring at the floor of the carriage in distraction.

He straightened up. “You already said this is likely the only way to protect Mary from your father,” he said. “You cannot be upset by it.”

She shook her head. “I’m not. If he allows it, oh, how it would remove so much fear from me to have her under my roof and know that we were controlling her destiny,
she
was controlling it, rather than him.”

“Then why are you worrying your very pretty lower lip?” he asked, watching her perform that very action with interest. Her mouth was utterly distracting, indeed.

“It is only that your brother did, of course, offer to help me, but he didn’t say he would host my sister for a Season, Crispin. So we are predicating our plan on something that might not even be done. And I assure you, if my father feels double-crossed, he’ll snatch Mary back and likely marry her off to some toothless old villain who wants nothing more than her virginity as his prize.”

Crispin lifted both eyebrows at the earnestness with which she said those words. “That is very dramatic. Was your late husband
your
toothless old villain or am I?”

She stopped for a moment and stared at him, then she smiled. “Well, neither of you was toothless, that I can admit. And as for which of you was more villainous…”

“Oh, please let it be me,” he teased. “I don’t think I could concede even a quarter to that milquetoast former husband of yours.”

“You want to be the villain?”

“No, I want to be more
villainous
,” he corrected, leaning toward her. “That could be fun.”

She shook her head. “You play with me and I admit it does lighten my mood, Crispin, but this is serious. My sister’s future is in the balance and no matter how dramatic you think my fears are, they’re sadly based in fact and personal experience.”

He nodded. “I know and I hope you realize from my offer today that I
do
take them seriously. As for my brother, I know him.”

He stopped. He’d spent a very long time telling himself he didn’t know Rafe anymore, not since he inherited the title and his bride. But being with him the day before…well, there were moments it had felt like old times. Like nothing had changed.

“You know him and…?” she asked, but her voice was soft, as if she could see how much he struggled with his relationship with Rafe.

He blinked and tried to clear whatever emotions were too obvious on his face. “I know him and I know that he will not refuse to help your sister.”

She went back to worrying her hands. “But Crispin, won’t he think I’m trying to take advantage of his title? Won’t he and his wife think I’m a grasping social climber?”

“My brother doesn’t give a damn about that. And you haven’t met Serafina yet. She is the last person who would ever see you as that. She’s too kind. She’ll see you as a loving sister, bent on saving Mary.”

She didn’t look convinced even though she jerked out an uneven nod.

He shook his head. “We’ll discuss it with them tonight when we go to supper. If you feel they’re resistant, we’ll find another way to help Mary. I promise you.”

The words sounded so odd coming from his mouth. He was no hero. He didn’t want to be. And yet here he was, making promises to a woman who he hadn’t even known three days before. Strangely enough, they were promises he hoped to keep.

“You are kind to help her, especially considering her attitude toward you,” Gemma said with a darting glance at him.

He laughed. “Your sister
does
seem to see me as an ogre.”

Gemma let out a long sigh. “I am sorry about that. Normally she is very reserved, very quiet.”

He shrugged. “Well, in this case she believes she is coming to the rescue of her obviously beloved sister. I can’t fault her for doubting me or my intentions, considering what state she saw me in last.”

Gemma blinked in surprise. “Truly, you do not blame her for her directness with you?”

“No.” Crispin shook his head. “I have certainly been treated and called worse than anything she said. Perhaps someday she will come to like me, if she sees I mean you no harm.”

“I suppose in a way, it doesn’t matter if she likes you or understands whatever agreement we have come to,” Gemma said softly before she slowly moved to his side of the carriage.

Suddenly he was very aware of her, of her warmth, of the sweet smell of her hair. Of the fact that her lips were slightly wet as she looked up at him.

“What is between you and me is between you and me,” she whispered.

“That is certainly true,” he murmured in response, lowering his mouth as she lifted hers.

They met in the middle, first with a rather chaste kiss, which swiftly spiraled into more. Her mouth opened and she brushed his lips with her tongue, eliciting a moan from him that allowed her access. Their tongues tangled, dueling in a battle for pleasure. One he realized they would both win when she eased herself into his lap.

“Mrs. Flynn,” he teased. “You are shocking.”

“I am, I think,” she agreed. “Do you disapprove?”

He pushed a hand under her skirt, hissing out pleasure as he stroked his fingers up her smooth thigh until he found the sweet wetness of her pussy. She gasped as he began to stroke his fingers over her.

“I don’t disapprove at all,” he murmured before he claimed her mouth again.

He continued to tease her, tracing her outer lips, reveling in her warmth and heat until she groaned low in her throat.

“How much time until we’re back at your home?” she whispered.

“Enough, but do you really want this? I know you ache.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with desire. “I ache for you.”

He almost came undone right then and there. He’d never known a woman with such passion before. Even the widows and courtesans who had thrown themselves at him over the years had not been so exuberant in their desires.

And he found he met her need beat for beat. His cock was rock-hard and his headache long gone as he wrestled to free himself from his trousers. When he had, she let out a sigh and took him in hand right away.

He let his eyes flutter shut as she stroked over him. God, she was good at that. She held him just right, just perfectly for pleasure, and he could have easily found release with just her hand.

But he wanted to make her come. He wanted to fill the carriage with the steamy heat of their joining. He wanted her to always think of that when she rode in it.

He caught her hips and maneuvered her to straddle over him. They both hurried to shove her skirts aside, bundling them between them as she laughed at the ridiculousness of it. But her laughter abruptly stopped when he lifted her and his cock naturally found her slit. She slipped down over him, her body pulsing as she let out a strangled moan.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as she immediately began to jerk over him. At first her rhythm was clumsy as the carriage rumbled and turned, but soon she found the way to use the movements to their advantage. She stroked over him and he lifted into her, lost in her heat, lost in her kiss, lost until the moment that she tilted her head back and let out a long, low moan of release.

Her body pulsed wildly around him and he grasped her hips to force her continued movement. Her orgasm milked him, her sighs and moans urged him on, his pleasure mounted rapidly, like an out of control stallion and finally, with a roar he feared anyone on the street could have heard, he exploded inside of her.

She smiled as she dropped her forehead to rest on his, her arms tightening around him a little. He sucked in a breath. This felt so natural, so normal, so right.

And it also felt like a betrayal of the deepest kind.

Gently he helped her move away from him and moved to sit on the other side of the carriage. As he fixed himself, she watched him, her smile fading with every passing moment.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

He forced a smile. “Not in the least, I think that was exactly what we both needed after the unpleasantness at your father’s. But we’ll be home soon, so I thought I should fix myself so we don’t end up in an embarrassing situation.”

She watched him for a moment more, then slowly began to do the same, smoothing her skirts over herself, fixing her hair. He watched her do it all, mesmerized by her movements and wishing, for a fleeting moment, that he could launch himself at her and undo all her work.

But he didn’t. He stayed on his side of the carriage as they turned down the drive and stopped in front of his home. He felt the footman coming down from the back, heard voices as they prepared to open the door and he reached for her, wanting to offer her comfort so she didn’t think he judged her for her passion as her first husband had.

He drew her across the gap and kissed her once, gently, on the lips. He wanted more but refrained as he whispered, “Now, how about that bath, Mrs. Flynn?”

Some of the tension bled away from her face and she nodded. “Together, Mr. Flynn?”

That hadn’t been what he meant, but as he stared into her face, so open, so filled with desire and passion, he found himself nodding.

“I would like nothing better.”

Gemma hoped her emotions were not clear on her face as she stared across the Duke of Hartholm’s parlor and watched her husband pour them each a glass of wine. If they were, the entire family would see how confused she was by Crispin.

He was never anything but kind, so far. Yes, he could be selfish, but when he recognized that, he always did his best to remedy it. But there was still the matter of how he withdrew from her. He made love to her in the carriage with abandon, only to set her aside like he had done something wrong.

And just when she’d started to feel despair, he took her up to their chamber and they shared a bath where he brought her pleasure over and over again until the water went cold.

But tonight, he had once again been withdrawn, never touching her, hardly looking at her as they shared dinner with his family.

Not that it hadn’t been a nice evening. Once again, the Flynn clan had welcomed her with open arms. Annabelle and Serafina—who had come down to join them despite what was obvious discomfort after the birth of her baby—had dragged her in like an old friend. His mother was sweet and treated Gemma no differently than she did Serafina. Even Rafe and Marcus had made her feel she belonged as they shared supper.

She just feared all that would change once Crispin broached the subject of the promise he had made regarding Mary’s Season.

“You are pale, my dear.”

Gemma jolted at Serafina’s voice and the touch of her new sister-in-law’s hand on her own. She glanced over and smiled. It was difficult not to smile when one looked at the Duchess of Hartholm. Serafina was as beautiful as any gossip had ever said. She was the kind of woman men stopped to stare at as she walked by, that other women watched and copied in the hopes they might obtain just a fraction of her luster.

And yet, despite that outward physical beauty, what shone from within her was the warmth of kindness, the depth of love. Gemma could see why Rafe was so in love with her, why the entire family adored her.

“I suppose it is been a difficult few days,” she admitted.

Serafina’s face gentled. “The beginning is always difficult,” she said. “You must recall that Rafe and I were also forced into a marriage, though certainly under very different circumstances. I know how you must feel as though you have been spun around a dozen times, then flipped onto your head.”

Gemma laughed. “You know, that is exactly right. I cannot seem to find my footing.”

Serafina glanced across the room and Gemma followed her gaze. She was looking at Crispin, who stood now with his brother, sister, their mother and Marcus. He was holding two glasses of wine, but had obviously been waylaid by whatever discussion they were having.

When Crispin’s eyes darted to her, Gemma stiffened. Were they talking about her?

“My advice is to try to find your footing together if you can,” Serafina said. “Rafe and I were uncertain at the beginning, but even with all my misgivings I recognized the good qualities in him. Qualities I could live with for the rest of my life. It helped me accept what was happening. Those are qualities his brother is also capable of displaying.”

Gemma stared at Crispin. Yes, she had also seen his good qualities on display. His kindness. His willingness to help her sister merely because she had asked him to do so. His gentleness when she confessed her past with her husband.

She looked at Serafina. “You seem very content now.”

Serafina’s face lit up. “More than so. Rafe and I fell deeply, passionately in love, despite our rocky beginning. I am happy every day for the odd circumstances that brought us here. I hope one day you and Crispin will feel the same way.”

Gemma turned her face to hide her blush. She could not imagine a time when she and Crispin would say they were deeply in love. Yes, when he touched her, she felt more alive than ever. She wanted him, seemingly every moment of the day now. But that was not love. And perhaps it was for the best.