Closer To Sin (39 page)

‘Sin,’ a plaintive voice interrupted. Lady Dennison sauntered up and laced a possessive hand around his arm. ‘Sin, I’m cold. I would like to go inside now.’

Liliane felt his grasp momentarily tighten before he relinquished her hand. ‘Mr Dudley, would you please honour me by escorting Lady Dennison to her chamber? I shall attend to Miss Desailly’s hand and return forthwith.’

The look of contempt Lady Dennison levelled towards her really was quite alarming, equalled only by the disdainful way she looked Albert over before turning and flouncing away. Albert gave Liliane a beseeching look before trotting hastily in her wake.

Well, that took care of one problem, but now a whole new one had been presented. As Lady Dennison and Albert faded into the shadows, the night sounds drifted back into Liliane’s consciousness. In the distance an owl hooted to its mate while in a nearby garden bed a trio of frogs harmonised. And before her a tower of male dominance and finely honed muscle loomed, his silence louder than any of the night noises.

‘I shall be fine, it’s just a small scratch. I’ll tend to it just as soon as I return to my room.’

She moved to step around him. ‘Give me your hand,’ he commanded.

Liliane sighed. It really wasn’t worth the effort to argue with him. Reluctantly she surrendered her hand, steeling herself against her body’s traitorous response to his proximity. He gently unfurled her fingers and slowly ran his thumb over the pad of her hand. Her breath hitched as he plucked first one thorn and then another from her flesh.

‘Gentle now,’ he soothed. She wanted to close her eyes, but she was captivated by the sight as he lifted her hand to his mouth and slowly, tenderly kissed the wounds.

Liliane moved to pull her hand away but Sin held it to his mouth, his lips closing over the sensitive flesh of her palm, his tongue moving in lazy strokes over her injured flesh. A flush of heat seeped through her, tightening her womb to a ball of intense longing. She stood transfixed, caught in the intensity of his gaze while a hum raced through her veins, a counter rhythm to the symphony of the night.

A gentle pressure on her wrist urged her closer. Without conscious thought she submitted to his invitation and lifted her head to seek the warmth of his mouth. He placed her hand against his chest and shifted his hold to the back of her head. The kiss was slow, exploratory, the glide of soft tongues over lips. Light and dark, give and take.

Sin broke from her mouth and grazed his chin along the column of her throat. The delicate flame of desire exploded into a raging inferno.

She held tight to the lapels of Sin’s coat, plastering herself against his rigid body. Absorbing his heat, drinking in his breath.

There were a million reasons why she should just turn and walk away from him right now, but not one of them was as compelling as this one enigmatic man who could eviscerate her every argument with a single kiss.

‘That feels so wicked, do it again,’ she urged.

Sin switched his attention to the other side of her throat and again traced a bone melting path over the sensitive skin of her neck. She was unresisting as he moved her into the shadows of the garden.

Impatient to touch him, Liliane stopped under the bows of an elm tree and pulled at Sin’s shirt. She needed to feel the heat of his skin against her hands one last time. His gentle words mingled with his kisses and urged her to move beyond her boundaries. They set her adrift in uncharted waters as the scorch of his touch became her lifeblood.

His skin was smouldering beneath her touch. She reached for his back and gently dragged her fingernails down his smooth skin, delighting at the trail of goosebumps she ignited. She felt, rather than heard, the faint sound of his growl against her throat. Empowered, she bit him on the ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth before dragging her nails down his chest.

She sensed his jacket being draped around her before she was pressed against the tree.

‘Slip this on,’ he instructed, helping her into the garment. She did as he asked, and didn’t offer a word of protest as he sought her lips and worshipped upon them.

The cool night air bathed her breasts, suddenly naked and exposed to his touch, exposed to the heat of his mouth. Her knees trembled as he pulled a nipple between his teeth, the pressure of his mouth hard and demanding before he tenderly licked, and did it again.

Against her belly she could feel the insistent pressure of his arousal, heavy, demanding her attention. Raking her nails down his stomach once again, she reached to open the falls to his breeches. Greedily, she grasped his erection between her hands, massaging the beads of moisture into his tip and down along his length.

‘Touch me again, Liliane,’ Sin groaned into her ear. His voice vibrated to her very core. He lowered a hand and guided her movements, pushing hard against her with each downward stroke.

She gasped, her inner muscles clenching and releasing in time to the movements of her hand. Her womb tightened and relaxed, intensifying her need for his possession. She was hot and swollen, wet. She wanted the feel of him stretching and filling her, seating himself deep within her. In answer to her unspoken call, he dragged her dress high and dipped a hand between her legs.

She bit deeply into her bottom lip as he glided over the sensitive folds of her sex. He stroked her in time to the same firm rhythm she applied to his cock until they pushed and strained against one another. She felt the waves build, felt her muscles clenching harder, her mouth found and joined with his, and they devoured each other with their kiss.

Liliane’s feet left the ground and at his instruction she wound her legs about Sin’s waist. As Sin dropped his hands to her hips and angled her so she was open to him she felt exposed, wanton, powerful. She felt him pressing at her entrance and pushed forward, encouraging him, hastening him. He nudged her head up and covered her mouth with his own.

The kiss was incendiary, building until its heat consumed her. He drove into her, gliding through her slick heat and she broke from the kiss, groaning deeply against his neck. She gave herself up to the exquisite sensations that rained upon her. Her body loved him with every touch, with every caress, with every tortured kiss. She held the words to her heart as the heat built and she submitted herself to the inferno that engulfed her.

She was aware of Sin driving into her. His power, hot and carnal, carried her onwards until she fragmented around him. Exquisite rapture ravaged her body, forcing her to throw her head back and sob her pleasure as pure bliss effervesced through every nerve and fibre of her being.

He stilled, quivering, his breath a series of rugged pants, waiting until she found her peace. And then he commenced a slow glide, igniting the fire again. Liliane held tight, her legs wrapped around him, her back, protected by his coat, arched against the tree. Sin’s head lowered against her breast, feasting upon her as he worked his magic deep within.

With one arm looped around his neck, she slipped her other hand downward and raked a nail over his nipples. The effect was instantaneous; he growled against her, nipping and sucking at her breasts. She did it again, and he lost control. She found herself contracting around him, hard, before drowning in a new tidal wave of passion as he found his release.

About them, the night was still, their breathing harsh and uneven by contrast. Their bodies, slick with heat and lust, slowly quietened. Neither of them moved, neither of them wanted to break the spell until slowly Sin eased Liliane down the length of his body, straightening her dress as he did so. Awash with moon light, they looked intently into each other’s eyes, searching for the truth behind the barriers they had erected.

Sin stepped back half a pace. ‘Liliane, we can’t keep doing this.’

Her heart fragmented; she didn’t want to hear the words. She didn’t know what she was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. She didn’t want to hear his apology, his avowal that it had been a mistake.

She held two fingers to his lips. ‘Shh, Sin. Please, don’t say anything. Don’t spoil the moment.’ With a strength she didn’t feel, she handed him back his coat and turned and walked into the night.

In her bedchamber she sat at the dresser watching Marthe remove each of the pins from her hair and drop them, one by one, into an engraved silver box. She looked in the mirror and closed her eyes against the image before her. There was no sign of the woman who had just been taken to the stars and beyond. She was pale and her eyes were dulled, shadows circling their perimeter; she looked as broken as her heart felt.

‘Miss, can I get you anything else?’

Liliane opened her eyes, surprised to see the maid still there. ‘No thank you, you’re free to retire for the evening.’

As Marthe disappeared out of the room, Liliane rose listlessly from her seat and climbed into bed. Leaning over to blow out the candle she was arrested by a quiet tap at the door. ‘Liliane, are you still awake? May I come in?’

With a sigh she sat up. ‘Yvette, I thought you must have retired hours ago.’

Yvette came to sit upon the bed and then rose again. Liliane frowned as her cousin began to pace the room agitatedly.

‘Yvette,’ she asked cautiously, ‘whatever’s the matter?’ Yvette turned and Liliane realised for the first time how distressed her cousin looked.

Yvette came back to sit upon Liliane’s bed. ‘I think I may have cause to be worried about Solange. She was expected at Martinbury House today, but she didn’t arrive.’

Liliane placed a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. ‘I know,
sweetie
, Sin told me. But you received a missive from her, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but that’s what troubles me. It was quite cryptic, simply that she doesn’t think it would be prudent for her to visit with us after all.’ Yvette stood and paced to the dressing table where she stood and began rearranging its contents. ‘Liliane, she feared someone was following her, that she may be in danger.’

A jolt of alarm shot through Liliane. ‘Do you have the letter? May I see it?’ Yvette pulled the missive from her pocket and passed it to Liliane.

She cast her eye over the note and frowned. ‘Solange refers to her previous correspondence with you and says she shares your worry about my circumstances.’

Yvette shrugged dismissively. ‘It’s nothing. I simply mentioned how surprised we were to discover that Sin was a peer of the realm.’

Liliane closed her eyes against a swell of nausea that rolled over her. As the queasiness passed she felt an ice cold ball of apprehension settle low in her gut and a sheen of perspiration trickle between her breasts. She smiled weakly at Yvette. ‘Do you think I can hold on to your letter until tomorrow? I might just show it to Sin in the morning.’

She braced herself as Yvette flung her arms about her. ‘I was hoping you would say that. He frightens me, but for some reason his demeanour changes whenever you’re near. His eyes follow you everywhere, I’m convinced you could tell him you just gave the last of his French brandy to the tenant farmers and he wouldn’t quirk an eyebrow.’

Liliane grimaced. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about that, Yvette. He’s probably watching me to ensure that I don’t give over his brandy to the tenants.’

Yvette let herself out and Liliane lay back down on her bed. Oh God, what had Yvette done? The letter felt incendiary in her hand. If she hoped to get through this night with her nerves intact she needed to tell Sin now, rather than wait until the morning.

Liliane stood and fastened a wrap about her shoulders. The house was quiet as she stepped into the passage way. It was late, but Marianne had made reference to Sin spending long hours in his study way after his guests had retired for the night. Liliane paused before moving forward, each step moving her from shadow to shadow, firing her imagination and tightening her nerves by torturous increments. Descending the stairs, she reached the first floor only to note the study door was ajar and the room darkened.

Damn it, Sin wasn’t there. Behind her a floor board groaned. She stilled as gooseflesh prickled her skin. Barely daring to breath she listened intently for any other noises. She slowly exhaled. It must have been her imagination. Looking back to the study door, she willed Sin to appear before her. Bother, she would have to go in search of him; worse yet, would probably have to seek him out in his bedchamber.

She returned to the second floor and tremulously tiptoed along the hallway, jumping at every night noise her heightened senses detected. She noticed a light shining from beneath Sin’s door and, with a sigh of relief, hurried towards it. Anxious not to bring attention to herself, she paused and cast a quick glance behind her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, that someone was following her. Swiftly, she opened the door and quietly slipped inside. And froze.

Her heart fractured. Sin was splayed across the bed, bared to the waist. Sitting astride him with her head thrown back and blond hair tumbled about her was Lady Dennison. Her red negligee was on the floor beside the bed and her abundant curves on display for all to see.

The ice that had seeped into Liliane’s veins froze to form a solid core, choking the air from her lungs. She struggled for something to say as the woman smiled at her, knowingly.

The ice splintered into minute shards and lodged deep in her soul. Forgotten, Yvette’s letter crumpled within her hand as without a word Liliane backed from the room and for the second time that evening, fled into the darkness. Except this time, she vowed, she would remain in the shadows. At least there she would never get burned.

***

From behind his desk, Sinclair watched Liliane tentatively enter the study. She smoothed her hands over her hair, tidying the stray wisps, as if that appearance of neatness could restore orderliness to their fractured relationship. She had obviously enjoyed as sleepless a night as he had.

He swore softly to himself. If he was honest, he’d been hiding in here, hoping to find the courage to go in search of her. To fix, once and for all, this damnable situation between them. To put an end to the stalemate. Blast that bitch Francesca for intruding upon him in his private chambers. Waiting until he had fallen asleep before launching her assault upon him.