“Or we could sit here, and wait for someone to notice we’re missing and rescue us.”
“And be found here
together,
Miss Pelly? We’d be married by nightfall—if your father didn’t shoot me first.”
“That would almost serve you right for meddling in matters that don’t concern you, wouldn’t it?” She smiled sweetly at him.
“Almost, Miss Pelly? As I recall, you are the one set against marriage, not me.”
She dropped her gaze and studied her feet. “We should try the door and hope it brings us out into the open, so that we can return to our rooms and be perfectly respectable.”
She walked down the stairs. At the bottom, he caught her elbow in a gentle grip. “What did I say to upset you? Would it really be such a hardship to be married to me?”
She swallowed hard. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make fun of me.”
“Faith—”
“I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to use my first name, sir.”
His grip tightened. “I’ll never hurt you.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“I’ll try not to hurt your family either, but I must do what is right.”
So, he was after
someone
rather than some “thing,” but in what capacity? It was pointless asking him.
“Shall we try the door?”
Ian sighed, but followed her over to the wall and set the candle carefully down beside it. “I wonder how it opens?” He pushed against the side nearest the crack and felt something give. “Let’s hope it pivots.”
He shoved harder, using his considerable strength, and the stone shifted backward, letting in a smell of damp and decay that made him recoil. When he straightened, a yawning black tunnel that led downward was revealed.
“It doesn’t look very safe,” Miss Pelly observed.
He held out his hand to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Which means we might both fall to our deaths,” she muttered as she clambered across the crates toward him. Ian found himself smiling. She really didn’t allow anything to upset her for very long, and her determination to resist his charm was curiously attractive. If he weren’t very careful, he’d find himself wanting to tell her the truth about everything. He had a sense that if he won her loyalty, she would never betray him.
She raised her fine blue eyes to his and he couldn’t look away. She was infuriating, but she was the first woman he’d ever wanted to possess completely. Naturally, she was against marriage. It was almost amusing. His mother would’ve told him it was fate laughing at him for his past excesses. Or was it simply that he’d grown so conceited he couldn’t believe any woman wouldn’t find him attractive? That wasn’t amusing at all.
“My lord?”
He’d been staring at her for far too long. He motioned for her to get behind him. “I’ll go first.”
“Naturally.”
He stepped into the blackness, shielding his candle with his hand against the breeze. The passageway appeared to have been hewn out of rock and sloped down rapidly. The floor was littered with seashells and pebbles that caught the candlelight and crunched under his booted feet.
He held the candle high. “Do you want to take my hand?”
“I’d rather you use it to find your way, sir.”
He placed his free hand on the wall and took a step forward. “Be careful, it is rather steep.”
It was also barely high enough for him to navigate without crouching. At certain points, he had to duck his head to avoid a low hanging rock. He glanced behind him. Miss Pelly didn’t have the same problem, being much shorter than him, but she was shivering so hard her teeth were chattering.
“Do you want my coat?”
“Not at the moment, it would impede my progress.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
“We should be near the end of the tunnel soon. I can hear the sea quite clearly.”
So could he, the regular pounding of waves hitting the rocky shoreline. The walls were becoming slimy and difficult to find a handhold on. He almost slipped when his foot hit a large slab of flat rock. As he struggled to right himself, the candle went out.
“Devil take it! Are you all right, Miss Pelly?”
“I’m right behind you.”
“Good, stay there until our eyes adjust to the light and we can see what lies ahead.”
He went to move forward and she grabbed his sleeve. “Be careful, the tide must be high. If we are just above the caves, they might be flooded.”
Ian carefully moved forward, stretched out one booted foot, and encountered nothing. With a curse, he knelt down on the damp rock and strained to see what lay below. Water lapped at his fingers as he gripped tightly to the ledge.
“One has to assume you are right and that the caves below us are full of water.” He carefully retreated and stood up. “We’re stranded here until the tide goes out. That shouldn’t be long now, should it?”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She gulped in a hasty breath. “By my reckoning, we could be trapped here for hours.”
5
“You cannot be serious, Miss Pelly?”
Faith grabbed hold of the earl’s arm. “Of course I am, why would I lie? Do you think I
want
to drown? If I remember correctly, the lower levels of the caves at the shoreline flood completely at high tide. If we keep moving downward, we’ll eventually meet the incoming sea and be swept out into the cove.”
“Why didn’t you think to mention this before we started down the passageway?”
She prayed he couldn’t see her face too clearly. “I . . . forgot.”
That wasn’t the truth. As she’d followed him down toward the sea, she’d found herself hoping that they wouldn’t be able to get out, that he’d have to stop and hold her and comfort her and—
“Miss Pelly, you are one of the most intelligent women I have ever met. I doubt you forget
anything
.”
She produced a trembling sigh and put her hand on his chest. “I do when I’m afraid.”
His arm immediately closed around her and drew her even closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”
She smiled against his chest as he kissed the top of her head. Sometimes men were so delightfully predictable. “I’m so cold. Could we stay here a moment and get warm?”
“We could return to the cellar. It’s probably a little cozier up there.”
“And be caught by my father?” She wrapped her hand around his neck. “If we stay here, we can wait for the tide to go out, and continue on our way.”
“What time will that happen?”
“About four in the morning, I think.” It would probably be closer to two, but she didn’t want him to know that yet.
He eased his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. “That means we have two hours to wait. Are you sure you want to stay here? We should at least try and get back to the cellar.”
“If you think that would be wise.”
He went still. “Miss Pelly, I find myself worrying when you agree with me. Are you up to something?”
She shivered. “No, I’m not. If you must know, I’m rather afraid of the dark and such cramped spaces.”
He regarded her in silence for rather a long while. “Then let us proceed.”
She followed him meekly back up the tunnel, which for some reason seemed easier and shorter on the return journey than on the way down. Occasionally she touched the fabric of his coat, just to reassure herself of his warm, solid presence. Despite his charm, there was something far harder and more substantial to his character than she had originally imagined. He was also very perceptive and hard to deceive.
On the way down, she’d had time to think about her two main suspects, and to worry about what the earl might do to them. Surely he would understand that her loyalty to her family and friends meant everything to her? If he wouldn’t reveal his intentions, she’d have to warn them. And if she did that, she was fairly sure he’d never speak to her again. . . . It was a surprisingly depressing thought. How had she come to value his company so dearly in such a very few days? It was if she’d met her match, her soul mate, the man who would allow her to be herself. . . .
And she was willing to throw that away simply to save people who had never given her much thought, let alone love. Not that the earl would ever love her . . . not that she expected that at all, but maybe she could have her one night with him before he turned from her in disgust?
“Damnation!”
She was so deep in thought that she walked right into his back.
“What’s wrong?”
“The secret door back into the cellar is shut.”
Faith gave a quiet moan and sank down onto the floor. Hoping he’d stay with her was one thing; being trapped inside the tunnel with no escape was quite another.
“Oh,
no
.”
He crouched down beside her and took her hand in a comforting grip. “We’ll have to wait out the high tide. I think there was a widening of the passageway about thirty feet down. At least we might be more comfortable there.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
Faith allowed herself to be towed back down the tunnel. The earl felt in his coat pocket and produced another stub of candle and a flint, and proceeded to light the flame, melt the wax, and stick the candle into a protected nook in the wall. The small space was revealed to have two old crates upended in the sand and the remains of a small brandy cask. He motioned for her to sit down with him. When she hesitated, he reached out and dumped her on his lap.
“That’s better. We will be warmer if we sit together.” He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders so that it draped over them both.
She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the delicious space under his shaven chin. For a moment she simply inhaled the scent of warm man, spices, and leather. It was an intoxicating blend she reckoned she would remember for the rest of her long and dreary, spinsterish life.
He kissed her ear. “Don’t worry, Miss Pelly. I’m sure everything will be all right.”
She raised her head and touched his mouth with hers, opening her lips to flick her tongue over his. His breathing shortened, and he kissed her back until his hand was in her hair and she was pressed against him. With a groan, he rearranged her on his lap until she was straddling him, the rough wool of her stockings against his buckskin breeches and higher up, the soft bare flesh of her inner thighs and sex.
Mindless with pleasure she rubbed herself against him until he was hard, and that made it even better. His hand clamped down over her bottom.
“You’ll make me come.”
“So?” she whispered and wiggled a bit more.
“This is not the venue I would’ve chosen for our first lovemaking session.”
“But it might be all we have. What if we don’t survive? This will be our first and our last opportunity.” Good lord, was she
begging?
“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Miss Pelly.” He groaned and his hips rocked back against hers. “If you’ll just stop doing that.”
“But I like it.” She bit down on his lower lip. “It makes me feel nice.”
“Nice?” His hand slid down over her bottom and rucked up her skirts. “I’m sure we can make it feel much better than that.” His long fingers slipped between her buttocks. “You’re wet for me.”
“Yes.”
He slid a finger inside her and thumbed her clit. “I want you to come.” He circled her swollen bud. “Do it now.”
She gasped as he pinched her clit hard and she started to climax, his finger pumping in and out of her, prolonging the sensation and making her even wetter.
“Damn, I want to be inside you,” he murmured, his teeth nibbling her ear, his other hand wrapped around her hips, making her ride his finger. “I don’t suppose you happen to have that sponge soaked in vinegar in your pocket, do you?”
“No more than you have one of those French letters you spoke of.” Faith squeezed his finger hard. “Could you just pull out before you ejaculate?”
“I could, but it’s not a fail-proof method by itself.” He added another finger and groaned in approval. “When are you due to bleed?”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“Everything.” He smiled at her, his eyes filled with lust. “When?”
“In about two days, if you must know.”
His smile became predatory. “Excellent, then, we can proceed.”
She touched his cheek. “We can?”
“If you want me.” For a moment his expression sobered. “Otherwise I can still give you pleasure, and I’m sure you can reciprocate.”
“But I want you, I want to know how you’ll feel inside me, how I’ll feel, I—”
He cut her off with a voracious kiss that went straight to her sex and made her grind herself against his covered cock.
“Undo my breeches.”
She sat back and stared at the enormous bulge of his cock that pressed against the supple buckskin. “Can I suck you first?”
“Not this time. I want to be in you.”
She reached for the buttons of his placket and slowly undid them. His shirt was damp with pre-cum and his cock huge. He sighed as she released him and ran her finger up his thick, hot, pulsing length. Without waiting for instructions, she rose onto her knees and, grasping his cock, rubbed it against her clit, back and forth letting the wetness spilling out from him swirl around her hot, needy bud.
“That’s . . . good,” he muttered. “That’s damn good. Take me inside you, let me in.”
She moved him lower, pressing the crown of his cock against her opening, marveling at how big he was and wondering if he would fit. To her surprise, he slid in the first inch quite easily and she widened her stance so she could watch. It was the most amazingly erotic thing she’d ever witnessed in her life. Far more powerful than any of the pictures that had so aroused her. Six inches at least of his shaft were still outside her body. She wanted them inside her.
“Rock your hips.” He took hold of the base of his shaft below her fingers. “Take more.”
She did as he suggested, and his cock started to disappear inside her. His fingers settled lightly on her clit, guiding her and teasing her to take him. Despite their previous lovemaking, he felt enormous inside her. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his shirt as his thick cock penetrated her completely. God, she felt full, as if . . .
“Ride me now, please, ride me hard.”
He gripped her hips, moving them in the motion he wanted until she suddenly understood, and then the pleasure increased until she no longer cared for anything except the grind of her body against hers, of his big cock, and of the gathering pleasure that she just knew would be unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
When she climaxed, he thrust upward and held still while she trembled and pulsed around his stiff, unmoving shaft. So wet now that she could slide over him more easily. Aware now of how to tease him by making each stroke from tip to balls, the downward one a swift taking of his entire length that made her want to growl with pleasure and bite him hard.
His tongue mimicked the thrust of his cock keeping her occupied and too busy to worry about how she looked, or what she was getting herself into. This moment with him would have to mean everything for the rest of her life. Even if her whole family had been standing there she wouldn’t have been able to stop.
His hand tightened in her hair. “God, I want to stay inside you and leave my seed in you, know you’ll be wet for days.”
“That,” she gasped, “is not romantic.”
“It’s what I want, so that other men will know you’re taken, that you’re mine, that I’m the only man who’ll ever get to fuck you like this.”
“How masterful.”
He kissed her, robbing her of speech, and started to move under her, his strength making her submit to his new faster tempo and the demands of his body. His stroke shortened, and he started to groan with each one, his grip on her tightening even as she convulsed around his cock with pleasure.
“Faith, I need to—”
She whimpered a denial as he lifted her right off his cock. The hot pump of his come against her stomach made her feel cheated. Did she
want
to belong to him, have his scent on her,
inside
her for days? At this moment she would’ve gladly taken anything he wanted to give her.
With a groan, he wrapped her tightly in his arms and held her close, her face pressed against his chest, her head under his chin.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Next time we’ll have a bed and I’ll strip you naked and feast on all the parts I didn’t get to see tonight.”
Not that there would ever be another time. Faith didn’t say anything and listened to his heart slow down and his breathing even out. She wanted this moment never to end. Who would’ve imagined that beneath her stoic exterior she could be just as romantic and silly as the next woman about a man? Who would’ve thought that this particular man, who called himself a rake, and who’d warned her not to trust him, would be her perfect match?
“Faith?”
She looked up into his beautiful, concerned face. “I don’t even know what your first name is.”
“It’s Ian.”
“Oh.”
He kissed her gently. “You may call me Ian, if you like. No one else does anymore.”
“Not even your parents?”
His mouth twisted. “My father called me ‘boy.’ My mother preferred
munna.
They are both dead now anyway.”
“That’s sad. Did your mother not thrive in England?”
“She was never permitted to come here. My father was ashamed of his marriage to a native.”
“You were sent here after she died, then?”
“No, he came to collect me when I was seven. He rather hoped I’d contact one of those many childish ailments that kill the young of the British in India and relieve him of his responsibility toward his foolish marriage. But I refused to die and flourished in my mother’s care.”
“So he took you away from her.”
“Of course. If I had to be his heir, he was damn sure he was going to raise me as an English gentleman.”
“That must have been a terrible wrench for you.”
“It wasn’t pleasant.”
She stroked his rigid jaw. “Did you ever go back?”
“I wasn’t allowed to. The news of my mother’s death was reported to me at school, and I was immediately sent back to class.”
“Oh, Ian . . .”
He smiled down at her. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m the Earl of Westbrook. My father and my schooling beat all that foreign nonsense out of me. What more could any man want than to be an English peer?”
His caustic tone made her want to weep. Instead she kissed his mouth until he murmured her name and kissed her back.
After a long while, he retrieved his watch from his pocket and consulted the time.
“It’s well past three. Shall we continue down toward the beach and see if the tide has gone out?”
“I suppose we should.” Faith reluctantly stood up and handed the earl back his coat. By her reckoning, the tide should be well out by now and their path back up to the house clear. “Thank you.”