Seaswept Abandon (The McClellans Series, Book 2) Author's Cut Edition Page 30

  Rae was in her underthings, dabbing at the stain on the white linen front, when Nancy came in.

  "You forgot your pelisse and basket," she said, laying them on the bed. "His lordship asked me to bring them to you. Where is the dress?"

  Rae pointed to the tub.

  "Have you no sense, girl? Why are you soaking the entire thing? It will be hours before it's dry enough for you to wear home."

  "Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Rae lied, forcing a frown to her lips. "What a scatterbrain I am."

  "Humpf! I should say!" Nancy flounced on the bed, testing the mattress. "Mm. Not so bad. What possessed you to speak in such a sharp manner to his lordship? You were fortunate he didn't take a crop to your shoulders!"

  "He was fortunate I did not pour something over his head!"

  "Lord, you frighten me when you talk so! I think you really mean it."

  "I do."

  Nancy pressed her hands to her cheeks and shook her head in disbelief. "I think he made allowances because it's obvious you're a foreigner, otherwise—" She made a cutting motion with her index finger across her throat. "Off with your head."

  Rae snorted. "And you insist this is a civilized country." She finished scrubbing at the stain on her linen bodice. "Nancy, there's no need for you to stay with me. Go on and spend the afternoon with Jack. You don't really want to leave for Linfield yet, do you? I'll meet you in front of the milliner's in a few hours, then we can walk home together. I don't want to spoil your day."

  Nancy pretended reluctance, but she knew in her heart that she wanted time alone with her Jack. "If you're certain you don't mind?"

  "I don't. Truly."

  Nancy scooted off the bed, then impulsively gave Rae a squeeze. "You're a dear heart!"

  Rae laughed as Nancy quit the room in a flurry of skirts and excited anticipation.

  When the door opened again Rae was on her knees, bent over the tub and scrubbing furiously at her dress. She did not turn around, for she knew who it was. "I've a good mind to make you wash this! Was there ever such a mess?"

  Jericho bolted the door and leaned one shoulder against it, studying the curve of Rae's back and buttocks appreciatively. "That was quite a display you put on below for your friends, but I admit I find this private display more to my liking."

  "Cretin."

  He chuckled. "What a waspish tongue. Have you no respect for your betters?"

  Rae glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised in mockery. "Point them out to me first."

  Jericho pushed away from the door and hunkered down beside her. His natty buff riding breeches pulled tautly over his thighs and the sleeve of his black velvet jacket brushed Rae's bare forearm. "Impertinent wench. Come, give us a kiss."

  "Us? My, you do take your new role seriously." She examined the dress, found the stain had been removed, and began wringing it out, ignoring the playful growl of impatience in Jericho's throat. "But tell me, m'lord. What of my role? Am I at your mercy then? Naught but a diverting pleasure to ease your jaded boredom?"

  "How well you know my mind."

  She looked at him pointedly. "And other parts of you as well, I'll wager." Just as he made to grasp her waist she slipped away, leaving Jericho clutching at air while she laid the wet gown over the back of a chair. She took her time arranging it so it would dry evenly by the fire and unwittingly gave Jericho a comely vision of her lithe form in slender silhouette. She just happened to glance in his direction in time to see the look of serious intent in his eyes as he bore down on her. Rae gave a little shriek and blocked his path by putting the chair between them.

  "Have a care m'lord," she warned him. "If you take me to your bed I won't allow you to escape it so easily. I'll pluck out your heart and make it my own."

  "You already have it, wench. I thought to take yours in fair exchange."

  Rae stepped out from behind the chair and pulled the ribbon from her hair. She gave her head a sprightly toss and her hair fell loosely about her back and shoulders. She dangled the blue ribbon at the end of her finger above her breast. "Then take it, m'lord."

  Nothing loath, Jericho smiled his wicked smile, the one that lighted his eyes with sensual promise, and stepped forward, taking the ribbon from Rae. He slipped it beneath her hair and wound it around her neck, pulling on both ends until she perforce had to close the gap between them.

  When there remained but a hair's breadth separation, Jericho abandoned his hold on the ribbon and clutched Rae in his arms. He knew a deep satisfaction when her arms slipped around his back in a like embrace.

  His mouth settled in her hair near her ear and he breathed in her fresh fragrance as he whispered how much he had missed her.

  "No more than I have longed for you," Rae murmured against the hollow of his throat.

  Jericho's lips touched Rae's face in four places before they finally settled on her mouth, giving her a deep, hungry kiss that brought her arching toward him and forced her on tiptoes. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and she could feel the buttons of his jacket marking her skin, every bit the brand of his mouth on hers.

  They stood in the center of the room, bodies intertwined for a long time, reveling in the simplest of touches that heightened their desire while reaffirming that this pleasure was not a dream.

  Rae's hands slipped beneath the tails of Jericho's superfine jacket and cupped the taut curve of his buttocks, pulling him toward her so that she might be held in the masculine cradle of his thighs. She slid her body sinuously against him, delighting in the contours that fit against her so well.

  Jericho's fingers were far from idle, threading through the soft texture of Rae's hair and teasing the sensitive back of her neck. His thumb traced the column of her spine and sent a shiver of pure sensation through her that shook him as well. His hand slipped between them, urging the straps of her chemise downward over her shoulders and lifting her breasts free of the thin material. For a moment he did nothing but look, holding her a little back from him. His darkening eyes alone were enough to cause Rae's nipples to harden, and his smile maddened her even as it made her heart thud erratically.

  She could barely breathe as one of his hands cupped the underside of her breast and the thumb flicked across the coral tip. His other hand supported her shoulders as his head slowly lowered and her head fell back, raising her breast to his mouth. A startled cry, more a whimpered rush of air, broke free of Rae's throat as Jericho took the budding end in his teeth and gave a gentle tug. Strings of hot desire pulled at her fingers, curling them in his bright yellow hair and holding him to her while his tongue laved her sensitive flesh.

  She felt a wave of disappointment when his mouth lifted, but it vanished as he sought her other breast and repeated his loving ministrations. She rocked in his arms as her toes seemed to lose purchase on the floor, and she thought she would fall. But his arm was there, waiting for her, first beneath her thighs, then sliding to the back of her knees. She was lifted in the air and held there, close to his chest, while her arms circled his neck and her mouth planted kisses on his cheeks and jaw and finally on his finely carved mouth.

  She loved the taste of him, the sweet-salty taste of his skin, the faintly bitter taste of ale on his tongue. Her teeth nibbled at his lower lip until a soft groaning sound in his throat made her pull away.

  Jericho rolled with her onto the bed and the mattress and ropes sighed heavily with their combined weight and the force of their tumble. The sound made Rae laugh, and Jericho pressed his lips to her neck so that he might feel her delight. Her joy at unexpected things drenched him with happiness.

  "Jericho?"

  "Hmm?" His mouth was still against her throat and her voice tickled him.

  "We've barely said good day; no, in point of fact we've yet to say good day, and here I am about to be ravished. Shouldn't we talk?"

  He raised his head so that it hovered above her. "Good day." He punctuated each word with a kiss.

  "I mean it, Mr. Smith."

  "Shh! M'lord to you. M
iss Saucebox."

  Rae evaded Jericho's next buss so that his lips landed on the cord in her neck. It didn't bother him at all and he nuzzled her quite contentedly, refusing to be put off by this late show of propriety. Rae tried to lift his shoulders, but it was quite useless. "Jericho. Please listen to me, I'm afraid we've gone about this all wrong. I don't want to fall into your arms like some demirep."

  "Why? I don't mind."

  His hands were on her bare breasts again, and Rae found it difficult to concentrate, especially when she wanted to make love as urgently as he. Still, there were some things that had to be said. She only had a glimmer of an idea of what he had been doing these weeks past, and she wanted to know all before she had to return to Linfield. "Please stop a moment and let me think."

  Jericho's hands quieted on her breasts, but he did not remove them. "Red, I know you are full of curiosity, but the time to ask questions is before or after, not during. Since we've already passed before and this is during, that leaves us with after, I would be pleased if you would observe these simple rules of etiquette and have done. We're going to have a fight, you and I, one that's bang up to the mark, once we get around to talking and I'd rather save it for after." Barely drawing in air, he kissed her soundly. Her arms stole around his neck and he broke the kiss. "What would you rather do?"

  When he kissed her like that Rae's answer was easy. Talking could definitely wait until after.

  Jericho sat up and Rae helped him out of his closely fitting jacket. She smiled to herself when he hung it neatly on the bedpost. He had a reputation to maintain, one that did not include wrinkled and disreputable coats with loose buttons and torn sleeves. He saw the direction of her gaze and grinned then tossed his shirt on the floor as if to say to hell with it Rae slipped out of her shoes, stockings, and undergarment! and threw them with abandon toward his fallen shirt. She made a seductive show of ridding herself of her dagger and delighted in his lusty regard. The rest of Jericho's clothes joined the pile and he slipped beneath the sheets that Rae held open for him.

  They snuggled and teased and warmed each other with the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet.

  "Mr. Franklin's stove provides but a spark of heat compared to you, Red."

  "Jericho, if that was your idea of a romantic compliment, you are sadly mistaken."

  Laughter rumbled deep in his chest, which Rae caught as it trembled on his lips. Her thighs parted and she reached for him, guiding his entry, a little in awe of what her body accepted, nay demanded, in fulfillment. His thrust was slow, and once he was in her completely he was still. Above her his eyes taunted her, watching her carefully to see if she was inclined to move first.

  Rae's eyes closed briefly under his penetrating stare then, marshalled her senses to maintain a semblance of control.

  Finally, a smile lifted her lips as the humor of it struck her. "M'lord," she husked, "I feel I must point out that as stubborn as you and I are, we are apt to expire in this position before one of us twitches."

  There was an explosion of laughter that nearly drove them apart but at least got them to move. They were hard-pressed to capture a rhythm after that, and as a satisfaction to their flesh this bout of loving left something to be desired, but as a touching of their hearts, it was everything they craved.

  Jericho's seed spilled into Rae, and she trapped him with her long legs, relishing the feel of his weight on her. Slowly she released him, and he rolled from her, propping himself on one elbow.

  "Sweet heaven, Red, the next time I make love to you I'm going to put a gag over your mouth. You very nearly had me undone there with your untimely humor."

  "Poor man. And what pleasure would there be if I could not touch you with my mouth?" The tip of her tongue teased her upper lip as she gazed at him through drowsily wanton eyes.

  "You make it hard to get out of bed," Jericho sighed, eyeing her mouth with a great deal of interest.

  Rae's eyebrows wriggled comically as she looked at the sheet lying flatly over Jericho's middle. "I do? It doesn't look—"

  Humor vanished from Jericho's face as he grabbed her hand and placed it over him. Through the sheet Rae felt the warm throbbing as blood coursed through him, and she gasped, much struck by this turn of events.

  "Oh, surely not, Jericho. Not so soon."

  "My body says otherwise, though I've never known the like before. Can you take me again, Red?" he asked, bringing her body flush against him, forcing her to feel her effect on him.

  Mutely she nodded and opened herself to him.

  "No, dearest, I've no taste for sacrifices. Let me pleasure you."

  Rahab did not think it possible that she might feel such intense desire sweep through her so soon after lying with him. Jericho proved her wrong. His mouth and hands were everywhere, on her tingling breasts, the soft curve of her elbow, the damp hair at her thighs, until she reached a pitch of longing equal to his own. When she thought he would come into her, he surprised her again by turning her on her stomach and massaging her back and slipping his fingers beneath her to graze her breasts. He drove strained little murmurs of wanting and need from her, and she found she was no longer embarrassed by the voice given to her body's pleasure.

  Her eyes closed as his hands slid beneath her hips, lifting her, and she helped him, bracing herself on her forearms as he thrust deeply inside her. The sounds he could not hold back mixed with her own, and they became one voice as they became one flesh.

  Jericho's hand stole around her front, and his fingers stroked her until she shuddered in violent release beneath him, and moments later he did the same. Replete, they lay in absolute silence, senses so full they were deaf to the sound of their own labored breathing.

  Rae did not know she had fallen asleep until she felt Jericho's hand on her shoulder, gently nudging her awake. He was dressed now, looking very handsome and rather remote as he leaned over her, as if nothing that had happened still lingered. She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts, and cursed the fates that decreed she should look so disheveled and wanton.

  "It's time we talked, Red."

  "You have me at a disadvantage. May I dress?"

  "I want to keep you at a disadvantage, so no, you may not."

  At first she thought he was joking, but then he sat on the bed and placed his arms on either side of her legs, effectively trapping her. His face was gravely intent and set on a purpose she did not understand. She could have moved, of course, but he would have hauled her back, and she refused to enact a scene that would shame them both.

  "I do not want you to return to Linfield," he said without preamble.

  Rae was encouraged that he had not forbidden it, but had merely said he did not want it. "I did not think you would. But I must go."

  "Why?"

  "Why? I thought your friend explained it to you. I want to find something to stop the duke from bothering Ashley or any of my family."

  "That's what Drew told me, but it is not a good reason any longer, if it ever was. I have the means within my grasp of taking back Stanhope and eventually stopping Nigel Lynne. It is not necessary for you to risk yourself under his very nose while looking for something that may not exist."

  "But you mean to kill the duke, don't you?"

  Jericho was brutally frank. "Do you truly believe there is a lesser means that will work? Have you lived beneath his roof for so long that you have forgotten the sort of man he is? Your father and brothers and I did not plan anything but Nigel's death, and if we're damned for it, then so be it. But even now there could be someone on his way to the landing with no other goal than to bring Ashley here or kill your brother or hurt their children. Is that what you want?"

  Rae raised her hand with every intention of slapping him but his stoic acceptance of such an end stayed her. She lowered her arm and her hand curled into a fist at her side. She spoke in clipped accents. "How dare you ask such a question. I am afraid for them, but I also am afraid for you. Tell me, what method will you use to kill
him?"

  Jericho wish she had slapped him. It would have stung less than her chilly reply. "Naturally, there is a danger to me," he said, striving for calm. "But it is as minimal as I can make it. When the time is right, I will challenge the duke to a duel."

  Rae's eyes widened and she shook her head in bewilderment. "That is your idea of minimal danger? My brothers and father accepted that? Of all the cork-brained, misguided, infinitely foolish ideas—"

  "Be still, Rahab, and listen." His tone brooked no argument, and Rae fell silent. "Your family knows I am a keen marksman. If the duel is conducted properly, I will not be thrown into Newgate. At worst I would find myself exiled to the Continent, and since I have little desire to live here, that is quite an acceptable risk."

  "I cannot like it, Jericho."

  "I would be hurt if you did," he said honestly, then squashed the hope that sprang to her deep green eyes. "But, no, I will not change my mind."

  She looked away from his face and fingered the sheet at her breasts. "Tell me how you plan to regain Stanhope. It was you, wasn't it, that stopped the earl's coach?"

  "Heard about that, did you?" He grinned. "Two of Drew's friends and I did that. Twice."

  "I only heard of one time."

  "The earl had a married female companion with him the second time, so in deference to the lady's rep there must have been an agreement of silence. Surprising, that. Though how she explained the missing baubles to her husband, I cannot fathom."

  "I'm not certain I understand how you are making use of your stolen gains." Her fingers unfolded and she touched the soft fabric of his jacket sleeve. "Though I gather you must be spending most of it with a London tailor, I fail to see the purpose."

  "It is not the title, but the lands, which I have the opportunity to regain. I believe I told you that Newbrough is a gambler. And a poor one, too. He has lost a great deal over the years, but I had underestimated the size of my father's estate, and it is only very recently that Newbrough has overextended himself. The jewelry I took from him and his companion brought in just enough of the ready that I was able to, at least on the surface, make a presentable appearance at one of Newbrough's gaming halls. Have I mentioned that I show a remarkable talent for gambling?"