Claimed By Chaos (9 page)

Alastair was surprised. He had felt restless and was worried about what he would do once he was no longer needed at the War Office. He didn't realize the family had noticed.

“Aldous warned me about this, that I needed a challenge or else I'd slowly destroy myself or wander aimlessly. After you recommended me for the War Office, he began following me. I was studying pugilism and he found me fighting in a match.” Gilles cursed and rubbed his face in exasperation. Alastair gave him a moment. “I was quite successful, I only lost two fights.”

“Alastair, I would never worry about your proficiency in anything, I just worry about what you're doing to yourself. I worry about the damage that you've already done.” Gilles’ voice was low and he searched Alastair's face for understanding, awareness. Alastair felt his lips curve.

“I am able to look at myself in the mirror and when I die, my skin will decay just as well as yours.” Alastair said. Gilles’ brows pulled together for a moment before they relaxed.

“Maman can never know.” His voice was severe. Alastair nodded in agreement.

“Go home to your wife, Gilles. I think I can get a horse back to London.” Alastair stood and finished his drink. Gilles looked content to remain.

“Very well, I'll leave early tomorrow.” He sighed. “And you expect to return to Town in two weeks?” Alastair looked across the room, calculating.

“I want to see what my investigators can turn up before Giselle and I start going about. I foresee her wanting to get back to London sooner to start working but I'm hoping I can keep her here for the full two weeks. I believe it will be easier for me to engage her emotionally without the distractions of London and this traitor.” Alastair said. Gilles nodded.

“I'll see what I can learn and let you know how the ton is reacting to Giselle’s return.” Gilles sipped his scotch and Alastair turned to leave. “Alastair, Lucien was right when he said that you need to know a woman in order to make her happy. But don't forget to let her know you as well.” Gilles smiled warmly and Alastair nodded.

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you.” With that, he exited the room.

Chapter 17

Alastair smelled Giselle as soon as he pushed the door to his room open. A few lit candles cast a soft, warm glow. He shut the door behind him silently and let his eyes move through the room. His body tightened when he spotted a peignoir, nightgown and slippers discarded on the floor. He stepped forward and looked to the bed. Alastair's heart stilled for a moment when his eyes found Giselle.

She looked small and vulnerable, asleep in the middle of his bed. Long, shimmering black curls spilled across the pillows as the blankets molded around her curves. Her skin was luminescent against the sheets. Alastair stepped closer and felt tempted to touch the long lashes that rested against her cheeks and to press his lips to hers. He waited for the wave of possessiveness that crashed through him to recede. He couldn't recall wanting anything so badly in his life. Not just physically, he wanted to claim every part of her, in every way.

Alastair turned and busied himself with tidying after Giselle as he waited for his emotions to settle. He placed her slippers together next to the chair and reached for her nightgown. For some mad reason, he lifted the cool silk to his face and inhaled. Her scent washed through him and he had to clench his jaw to keep from reacting. After a deep breath, Alastair held it up and attempted to find a logical way to fold it. There were few seams and no real angles. He tried holding it by the straps and where the straps met the bodice but the stupid thing refused to cooperate, sliding against itself and slipping though his fingers. Finally, Alastair settled on draping the infuriating garment over the arm of the chair. He picked up the peignoir and was relieved to see that it had actual shoulders. His relief was quickly dashed when he tried to pull the sleeves together and the thing slid and separated. He quickly decided that it could hang next to the gown and considered his own clothing.

Removing all of his clothes was dangerous, he needed a barrier between them. Alastair unbuttoned his coat and shrugged out of it. He folded it and draped it over the back of the chair. He quickly did away with his waistcoat and cravat before sitting to remove his shoes and stockings. He stood and approached the bed. When he sat, Giselle's eyes fluttered and her smile made Alastair dizzy. She started to sit up and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Stay there.” His voice was harsh, gravelly and deep. She blinked and settled back against the pillows. He turned and stretched across the bed, resting his head on his hand, his face close to hers. “I want to talk first.” He said softly as he reached for one of her curls.

“What do you want to talk about?” Giselle asked. Alastair could feel her breath against his neck, he suppressed a shiver as his cock became heavy and hard.

“You.” He replied as he wound her hair around his finger and raised it to his face to brush against his lips. Giselle sighed.

“We've talked so much about me the last few days.” She complained. Alastair chuckled.

“And yet you know so much about me and I know very little about you aside from your time in France with my brother.” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat as she began unbuttoning his shirt at the collar.

“What do you want to know?” She whispered. Alastair cast about, searching for anything that would reveal something personal. He considered what she knew of him.

“What was your favorite thing to do as a child?” He closed his eyes as her hand slid between the halves of his shirt to gently brush his skin. She remembered his sensitivity and was being cautious. He saw her lips curve and he held his breath as heat flared where her fingers touched him.

“Papa used to push me on the swing. I'd beg him to push until my toes almost touched the leaves of the tree and my stomach would flip. Once I was sure I was as high as I could get, I would jump from the seat and fly through the air. Maman used to get so upset but I always did it. I tried to fly as far as I could and papa would laugh as he pulled me into his arms when I ran to him.” Alastair laughed softly as he threaded his fingers through her hair, massaging Giselle's scalp. She moaned softly and his groin tightened.

“You've always been reckless, then.” His lips were so close to hers, he could feel them curve. “Why don't you like tea?” He whispered. He felt her lips twist.

“It's not very English of me, is it?” She replied. Alastair shook his head.

“You're not very English.” He almost laughed. That he would be drawn to someone so French, so unpredictable…

“It's just so weak and bland!” Giselle complained. “Then, you add milk and it becomes watery. You add sugar or honey and that's the only good part about the tea. I like coffee, especially if it's rich and strong. Wine is perfectly suitable in the evening.” She declared. Her voice became soft. “I'm afraid that to serve the country I love, I had to lose touch with it.”

“Nonsense.” Alastair replied as his hands stroked her back. She shifted and arched, pressing closer. He focused on his thoughts and breathing. “I believe one’s intentions and actions are what defines them, not the beverages they drink.” He was certain she could feel his erection pressing against her through the blanket. He cleared his throat and tried to think. “You like wine and coffee. What else? Do you drink chocolate?” It was such an inane question. Giselle gasped and the hairs on his arms stood.

“I'm mad for chocolate!” Alastair felt her fists grip his shirt and pull. “To drink… to eat… The smell of it! It is my absolute favorite!” She sighed as she smiled dreamily. Alastair made a note to get his hands on a lot of chocolate, quickly. He pressed on before he became too distracted.

“I knew your father very well.” He whispered. Giselle looked up, surprised and delighted. “I knew he had a little girl that he adored. I imagine he bought you hundreds of poppets.” Her brows pulled together and she shook her head.

“I never understood what little girls found so entertaining about dolls.”

“I believe they appeal to a girl’s innate instinct to nurture.” Alastair returned. He felt himself tense as the conversation turned.

“I suppose, but why should a girl play at being an adult, a mother, when she should be enjoying her childhood?” Giselle argued. Alastair couldn't stop himself from asking his next question.

“Do you want to have a child, to be a mother?” His voice was mostly steady. Giselle looked very serious for a moment before she giggled.

“Is that an offer, Alastair?” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. His heartbeat became painfully slow and filled his ears. In his mind, Alastair saw Giselle sleeping with his baby next to her. Warmth flooded him and his eyes watered. It was so beautiful and he wanted it to be real. He was about to say “Yes!” when she smiled and swatted his shoulder. “Relax! I was only teasing!” She sobered and pursed her lips as she thought. “If things had been different, if I was different, I think I would want a few children.” She shut her eyes and breathed deeply before she opened them and smiled. Alastair considered probing but didn't want to say anything that would give his intentions away. Instead, he took her chin and lifted her lips to his. He brushed her lips briefly before lifting his head.

“What do you enjoy doing, when you aren't Le Fantôme Noir?” He asked softly, as he searched her eyes he felt like he was sinking. She bit her lip as she considered.

“I've spent so much of the last two years carefully making my way back and before that I was so focused on our work, I can't remember a time when I could do anything I wanted. This time at Winthorpe will be the first time I've been idle since I left for France.” She became still for a moment, perhaps considering the novelty of relaxing. “I used to steal books if I came across one I could take with me.” She confessed. “I feel so terribly guilty but that's what I missed most about having a normal life.” Giselle looked up at Alastair shyly. He laughed softly.

“You've killed so many men and yet it's the books you feel guilty about?” She was confounding. Her face became serious.

“You know as well as I do, the men I killed were not good or honorable. Many of them were treacherous, greedy and dangerous. Books are good and you don't know who you're stealing from when you take a book. A book doesn't belong to one person, it belongs to every person that reads it’s words. When I took a book, I took it from an endless chain of people that would never see it.” Giselle explained. Alastair was speechless. The sentiment was so eloquent, so poetic, he couldn't help but be effected. Books had always been vital to him, at times more so than food. To know that this frenetic, tiny vixen was so passionate about books moved him deeply. He stroked her cheek in wonder as he stared down at her.

“Is there anything else?” What else could he give her? Aside from chocolate, all of his books and his soul? She smiled wistfully.

“I wish I had been more patient with my piano lessons as a child. They seemed so tedious then. Now, I find myself so captivated by those that can make music. I've had so little time for it but whenever I hear music, it moves me. I would give up many things to be able to play an instrument well.” She whispered. Alastair felt his lips curve and Giselle raised an eyebrow.

“Mirabelle and Elise play the piano. Elise is a prodigy and Mirabelle is very good. She plays the harp as well.” Giselle gasped in excitement. He chuckled softly. “You’ll enjoy your time at Spencer Place, Elise plays for hours every day.” Alastair lowered his lips to Giselle’s to kiss her when she squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, stunning him. He felt her push from the mattress and roll. He looked up to find her above him, her naked body draped over his. He would have cursed if her tongue wasn't tangled with his. Instead, his hands betrayed him by wrapping around her hips and gliding along her naked flesh up the planes her back before sliding down to wrap around the tight globes of her derrière. Giselle was smooth, firm and so warm. He ached to set his lips to everything his hands touched. She purred and rubbed her length against Alastair. He hauled in a ragged breath when he felt her hands slip between them, tugging his shirt free. He shook his head as he pulled her arms away.

“No. My shirt and trousers stay as they are.” His voice was strained. Giselle frowned.

“I thought we were going to… I want you to take me, Alastair. Tonight. Now.” She demanded. He gathered her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

“Not tonight. I want to learn more about you first, Giselle.” His voice was deep and full of emotion. She looked confused.

“Why? I find it hard to believe you took the time to learn this much about every woman you've been with.” She challenged him. He shook his head.

“No. I know almost nothing about any of the women I've bedded.” For a moment she looked shocked. “None of them meant anything to me. You're different. You mean a great deal. And there will only be one first time between us, that will mean a great deal to me too.” He was tense as he watched her eyes become even wider. He might have given too much away, too soon. She blinked rapidly before she frowned. Giselle pushed off of Alastair's chest and sat up.

His heart stopped beating and a desperate “Ooh, God!” escaped him. All at once he was bombarded by the sight of large, round, bouncing breasts hovering over him and the heat and pressure of her womanhood against his throbbing cock as she sat up, upon it. If he hadn't been wearing trousers, he might have slid into her warmth. Alastair shut his eyes and held her hips firmly as he waited for soft, large pink nipples to fade from his vision.

“Please, please be still!” He begged. Giselle moaned softly as she thrust against him experimentally. “Giselle!” His voice was strangled, frantic.

“It doesn't feel like we're done. I don't think you want to stop.” She whispered sensually as she leaned down and claimed his lips. Her hips continued to rock against him and Alastair growled as he rolled them. His mouth crashed against hers hungrily and he ground his hips against her, causing her to bounce beneath him. Giselle pulled her lips free and gasped as her legs wrapped around him.

“I didn't say anything about being done, mademoiselle.” He whispered against her throat as he set his lips skating along her skin. He laved at the notch of her collarbone before he quested lower. “There's much more I want to learn about you tonight.” Alastair promised as he filled his hands with her breasts. His tongue traced the outer edge of her nipple and he watched it pucker before he brushed his lips across it, feeling it pebble. Giselle arched in his arms and whimpered, her hands wrapped around his head as she pressed him to her.

Alastair felt her damp heat explode against the front of his trousers and swallowed a curse. He reminded himself that there was much more at stake than one night. He pulled her nipple between his lips and began to suckle hungrily as he continued to thrust against Giselle.

“Please!” She whispered the word over and over as he continued to feast upon her. His hand teased her other breast, gently caressing the nipple with the pad of his thumb. She arched and moaned in his arms as her legs pulled him tighter against her. Alastair released her and lashed at the sensitive peak with his tongue before he turned to her other breast. He flicked the tip with his tongue and Giselle gasped. He rolled the other between his fingers as he wrapped his lips around the soft, aching peak. She clawed at him, begging mindlessly. Alastair set his tongue to her skin and began tracing her lush, trembling flesh. He learned the full round shape of her mounds with his lips, licking at the underside of her breasts where she was sweet and faintly salty. Alastair gently nibbled the outsides where they curved before his tongue trailed down her ribs and drifted to her center, exploring her midriff slowly.

Giselle was becoming frantic, writhing beneath him, moaning and gripping at his shoulders as he moved lower. He placed open mouthed kisses along the swell of her stomach before his lips met soft curls. Alastair nuzzled them briefly as he inhaled her scent. He pressed her thighs wide and slid down the mattress further until his lips brushed against the inside of her knee. The skin of Giselle’s thighs was warm and taut as his tongue traced it's way up towards the apex. He felt them quiver and he smiled against her sensitive flesh. Alastair teased her with his teeth and she hissed. He brushed her with his lips as he slid his body upward and draped her thighs over his shoulders.