Rogues and Ripped Bodices (27 page)

Afterglow

Was there a certain lightness
to his step as Lucian walked out of the hotel? Perhaps there was. It was a
little embarrassing but he could not bring himself to care. The street was dark
with no traffic. He had been loath to leave her and, in fact, she had begged
him not to, but he wouldn’t shame her by sneaking out of her room in the
daylight. Better to leave her now and leave her reputation intact, regardless
of how hard it was to pry himself away from that sweet, soft body.

Lucian pushed a hand through
his hair and winced when one of his muscles pulled. He’d not made love like
that for years—even before the fire really. Ellie was one demanding lady. Who’d
have thought?

Well, perhaps he should have
known. The Ellie he had once known had taken full advantage of every moment in
life and, he had to admit, he liked that side of her very much. The hours until
he was back in her bed tonight were going to be long indeed.

Torn between returning to his
townhouse and resting as he should, or going to the mill and getting a head
start on the day, he opted for the mill. In spite of endless lovemaking, energy
still burned through his body. If he had to, he would finish early and take a
nap before visiting Ellie. Lord knows, he would need the energy.

It took him twenty minutes of
walking through the backstreets to get to the mill. Smoke hung in the air but
the streets were blessedly quiet. The inns would have emptied hours ago and
only a few windows released a golden glow onto the cobbles.

Lucian unlocked the gate and
drew it shut before locking it again. He stuffed the keys into his coat pocket
and made his way to the office. The quiet would disturb him normally. He had
come to relish the clatter of the machines. It gave him something to
concentrate on. No one seemed to realise how much the fire had cost him. How could
he continue being the consummate rake with a face and a body like his? Though
it didn’t seem to bother Ellie.

A grin crept across his face as
he thought of her curled up and warm and soft beneath the bedding.

Still, the accident had done
one thing. Turned his attention to his father’s investments. And the mill was
one place he could make a difference. Most of the other schemes ran themselves
and none were threatening to collapse beneath him. Every person who had known
his father spoke of his business acumen, and Lucian had to prove himself as
capable.

He paused at the top step when
he spotted a spark of light in one of the windows. One of the foremen perhaps?
No, why would they be here at four in the morning? He scowled. A thief more
likely and a damn brave one. They’d have had to scale the gates to get in.

Lucian strode in the direction
of the mill and found one of the doors open, unlocked. What the devil? He
entered slowly, aware he had no weapon on him. He liked his chances in a fair
fight but not in a dark mill with an unknown would-be assailant.

A shuffle drew his attention to
the rear of the mill and he peered into the darkness, past the motionless
looms. Cotton dust swirled in the air, telling him someone was in there. He
took another step forwards and a sudden flare of light had him reeling back.
The flash of a figure dashed across the back of the room and he swore aloud
when he realised the light was coming from the cotton bales.

Fire.

Bloody hell. He had to put it
out.

He raced over and tore off his
frock coat. The flames were not large but cotton went up easily, as he well
knew. He threw the garment over the flames and stomped until he was sure there
was no chance of the flames restarting. The smell of singed cotton and sack
hung in the air and his arm itched with remembrance.

Peeling back the coat, he flung
it aside and inspected the damage in the dim light. The bale had hardly caught
thankfully, but he had lost the person responsible for the fire. Damnation. He
strode out of the back door and peered around but he knew the blackguard would
be long gone.

“What the bloody hell...?” he
asked himself.

Something odd was going on. For
a mill with such a low record of accidents, too many had happened and now
someone had tried to set fire to the place. That was no accident.

Three hours later, he had his
head foreman in his office. His dour expression likely matched his own.

“I’m going to hire some
security for the nights. Are you sure none of the men have seen anyone
suspicious?”

“Nothing, my lord,” said Mr
Fuller. “If the criminal was here last night, chances are they entered at
night.”

“And they’re a fine lock
picker. And saboteur. I don’t know why we did not see it before.”

“Machinery goes wrong, my lord.
We had no reason to think otherwise.”

Lucian rubbed his itchy eyes.
The smoke and lack of sleep had taken its toll and though the bobbies had been,
they could offer no answers. They promised to patrol past the mill at night but
they had a whole town to look after.

He had already spoken with a
rough character his foreman knew who could hire several aggressive types to
look after the mill. He didn’t relish having that type of man around but better
them than someone wanting to burn the place down. And now they had looked into
the previous accidents it seemed clear they were deliberate. Why had he not
seen it before?

Lucian pinched his nose.
Because he had been so intent on keeping the place running and fighting his
attraction to Ellie. He’d failed on the latter but the mill was still afloat.
Just.

Nothing more could go wrong.
They would never catch up on the orders if something did and if whoever this
person was succeeded in burning the place, there would be no salvaging it. Who
was it?

“Fuller, can you think of
anyone who might wish to close the mill? An ex-worker perhaps?”

The older man shook his head.
“No, not off the top of my head. You have a good reputation, my lord. It would
be far more likely one of the other mills would have disgruntled workers.”

“Well, keep your ear to the
ground.”

“Of course.”

Fuller left, leaving Lucian
staring at the ledger for the week. Ellie would probably want to look over it,
nosey little chit. In spite of everything, the thought made him smile.

Pushing back his chair, he
scraped two hands through his hair and made to put on his coat only to remember
it had suffered a stomping on and a fire. He pulled down his rolled up sleeves
and strode out into the courtyard. Lucian slid past a cart with fresh bales of
cotton on and stepped into the mill.

This time the rattle of machines
washed over him and the workers touched their caps in greeting as he strode
past to the back of the room. The police had already inspected the scene but
found nothing. No evidence of the intruder. Could it have been an accident,
they asked. A figment of his imagination? Had he been smoking? Devil take it,
he did not even smoke. He had enough vices as it was and now they were treating
this as though he was blind and not just scarred.

He rubbed a hand over his arm
when his skin itched again. The blackened remains of a cotton bale remained.
He’d have to get someone to clear it up. But, wait a moment?

He grabbed one of the nearby
workers. “Was this how it was this morning?”

“The bales, my lord?”

“Yes, the bales.”

“Aye, my lord. We’ve not
touched it. Did not know if you wanted to keep it for evidence or summat.”

“Right, my thanks.” Lucian
nodded distractedly and waved the man away.

The bales puzzled him. They
would normally be stacked much higher and they’d only had a recent delivery but
these were set apart from the rest and were only a few high. As though a great
blaze had never been the intention. But why set a fire if the purpose was not
to burn the place down?

He rubbed the back of his neck.
If only he wasn’t so tired, then maybe he could figure this puzzle out. No
doubt Ellie would have some smart answers for him, but he was not sure he
wanted her involved. She had been harmed once before and he was loath to let
anything happen to her. Not to mention, he could do without her distracting him
as she had the past months.

Well, at least he’d burn
through his attraction to her before long. Maybe he’d regain his focus then. He
pictured her milky skin against the purple bedding and tried to shake away the
image. Or perhaps not.

More
Berry Red

The day had been uneventful for Eleanor. She had risen late,
shopped a little and poured over the few books from the mill she had brought
with her. Something was still striking her as odd but she could not put her
finger on it. With no friends in town, she had little else to occupy her but it
did strike her as a little miserable to be sitting in her hotel room, pouring
over accounts.

Not that her smile would leave
her face or even let her lament the fact she still knew few people in England.
Her thighs ached and her body felt beautifully used. Had she dreamed the whole
thing? It was hard to believe she’d bedded Lucian, one of the most infamous
rakes in Yorkshire. And he had been beautifully tender and passionate—even
amusing at times.

She tapped her fingers on the
book and glanced at the small gilded clock on the console table. A bubble of
excitement welled in her chest. She had forced herself not to count down the
hours but he would be here soon. It was so deliciously naughty to be sitting in
one’s nightclothes waiting for a lover. She was not wearing her drawers again
and only the soft brush of silk kept her clothed.

Maggie, her lady’s maid had
accompanied her and was staying in the lower rooms, and had helped her pick out
an attractive garment to wear. If she thought her depraved for such behaviour,
the maid certainly did not show it, not when she was encouraging her to buy the
shocking red silk garment.

Eleanor thought she had become
quite adept at only wearing flattering gowns and nightwear, but none suited her
like this one. With her hair caught up in its usual curls and the red silk
caressing her body and dropping low to reveal the curves of her breasts, she
thought she could almost be attractive.

What would Lucian think?

She blew out a breath and put the
books aside so as to stand and view herself in the full length mirror. Was it
her imagination or did she look more grown up? No sign of little Ellie Browning
here. She laughed at her reflection. One night of lovemaking did not change
one’s appearance, but funny how one night did more than seven years of marriage
and travelling. People often travelled to find oneself, she thought, but what
if she had simply become more lost and with Lucian, she found herself?

Strolling to the dressing
table, she dabbed on a little perfume and laughed at herself again. “Ellie, you
must be out of your wits.”

Finding herself
with a
consummate rake and the man who had once hurt her terribly? Unlikely. But
Lucian had changed. His unselfishness in bed was a demonstration of that, and
did she not know how hard he worked now? The only thing the old Lucian worked
hard at was seducing beautiful widows.

A rap at the door made her
heart bound. She paused to take a sip of wine from the glass on the silver tray
on the round table. She had ordered some food too but she had no idea if Lucian
would be hungry. She certainly wasn’t. Not for food at least.

Eleanor swallowed and drew open
the door, butterflies beating in her chest. Her limbs felt warm and weak. A
tilted smile greeted her, then wide eyes and a deep darkening of his gaze. His
shirt sleeves were rolled up, his necktie loose. He did not even seem to care
that his scarred arm was revealed. Fatigue haunted his expression, making the
lines around his eyes more distinct and his hair looked as though he had been
shoving his hands repeatedly through it.

But he was still as handsome as
ever.

He let out a low whistle.
“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie...”

“Are you coming in?”

He stepped in and kicked the
door shut with his foot. She gulped as his grin turned wicked and any hint of
fatigue seemed to drop from him. In its place was desire—pure and unadulterated
desire. For her.

She twined her hands in front
of her and, as he took a step forwards, she took one step back. It terrified
and excited her at the same time—this overwhelming desire. What to do with it?

What other choice did she have?

They stepped forwards at the
same moment. Silk met a cotton shirt and his hands immediately went into her
hair, shaking loose pins and gripping her head fiercely. She dug her fingers
into his neck and felt her nipples harden against him. She barely had time to
draw breath before his mouth was upon her. He tasted of whisky and smelled
smoky, as though he had been sitting near an open fire all day. And she could
not get enough of him.

“Oh, Ellie,” he murmured
between kisses.

“Lucian,” she responded, the
word husky.

“I’ve been thinking of nothing
else all day,” he said while he trailed hot kisses down the side of her face
and throat, before seeking her mouth once more.

His tongue thrust impatiently
into her mouth and she met him, touch for touch, kiss for kiss. Heat licked
over every part of her body and need consumed her. Eleanor swept her hands up
and down his back, and felt the rippling muscles and tension there.

“What are you wearing?” he
muttered as he took a moment to nip down her neck to her breasts.

She lifted a shoulder, unable
to answer as he brought his mouth down over the silk to draw a nipple into his
mouth. Eleanor gasped at the welcome relief it brought and clutched his head to
her.

“You...you like it?”

“Very, very much. Too much. How
am I to keep my wits about me?”

“You do not need your wits.”

“I always need my wits about me
in your presence,” he said against her breasts, “but I cannot keep them with
you around.” Lucian drew straight and stood back to eye her, his hands to her
shoulders. “I should like to remember you just like this?”

“Desperate and wanting?”

He let out an astonished laugh.
“I thought you a lady, Countess, but it appears I was wrong. And I am so very
grateful I was, but I have come straight from the mill. I had intended to wash
and change before coming to you, yet I didn’t.”

“I care not. Lucian, don’t make
me wait.”

“I smell of smoke and dust.”

“You smell lovely.”

“Lovely? Hmmm. That is not very
masculine.”

“Lucian,” she said, frustration
tingeing her voice. How could he stand there, staring at her when she felt she
might explode into flames at any moment if he did not touch her?

“The countess wants something.”
His lips quirked.

“Yes, you!”

“So I must oblige.”

He closed the gap once more and
coaxed her mouth open beneath his. He didn’t have to do much coaxing. She
accepted his tongue willingly and relished the warm taste of him. His hands
found her rear and with one easy movement, he had her lifted and her legs
wrapped about him. In his arms, she felt delicate and feminine. Raw strength
surrounded her and even though he complained of smelling smoky, it only added
to his appeal.

Eleanor gripped his hair and
kissed him furiously. She did not think she would ever get enough of his
kisses. She wanted this affair to last forever.

Lucian stumbled a little as the
kiss deepened and she gasped when the wall met her back.

“What does my countess want?”
he asked.

“You.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Here?”

“Here!”

He used a hand to hitch up her
chemise and she heard him fumble with his trousers. Heat touched her most
intimate parts and she gasped as she felt how wet and ready she was. Pinned
against the door, he touched his nose to hers and stared deeply into her eyes
before thrusting deep inside her.

Shocked by the sudden invasion,
she stiffened and he flattened his lips to her neck as he began to move inside
her. She could do nothing but dig her nails into his back and cry out with each
thrust. She was being noisy yet she could not help herself. Each slide of him
inside her drew new sensations to the surface, so exquisite they were almost
unbearable.

The door behind her seemed to
shake, though perhaps that was her and she grappled for a hold on
something
while her other hand wove into his hair and kept him pinned to her body. She
found purchase on a picture and her fingers curled around the frame, only for
it to knock to the floor. The clatter didn’t even seem to register to Lucian
and she could not bring herself to care.

“Yes. Oh, please,” she begged.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned.

Sensation built inside her
until she thought she might swoon. Lucian’s lips were everywhere, kissing her
forehead, her lips, her neck. His pace grew erratic and each sweep of him
inside her forced her to tighten her grip on his hair.

“Ellie.”

Her name, so harsh and fragile
on his tongue was the undoing of her. She came apart with a cry. Her body
became liquid in his arms and she clenched her eyes shut as the blissful
pleasure flooded her senses. Convulsing around him, she heard his groan and a
rough whisper—her name. Warmth filled her and his grip tightened then relaxed.

Body heaving, he pressed his
forehead to hers. She opened her eyes and drew in great gasps of air. A
blissful sense of peace came over her and her body felt warm and satisfied.
Eleanor smoothed her palms over his hair and clasped him to her. They remained
like that for several moments until he seemed to have gathered his breath.

One by one his fingers released
their hold on her rear and he disengaged them to lower her to the floor. Lucian
kept her captured against the wall, however. He peered at her from under his
brow, that half-smile on his lips, but his eyes belied the message on them.
Those green eyes were serious and it made her chest constrict.

“What do you do to me, my
love?”

Oh, how her heart pounded at
those words. Why should she be so excited by such a notion?  He had promised
her nothing more than pleasure, and pleasure he had given her. She was no
starry eyed seventeen-year-old anymore. There would be no happily ever after
for them, just a few moments of shared enjoyment, and that was all she wanted,
was it not?

“The same thing you do to me, I
suspect,” she replied, proud of how strong her voice sounded.

He dropped a kiss to her lips
and straightened her nightgown. “I should not have spilled inside of you.
Should anything happen...”

She shook her head, unwilling
to hear his proposal of what he should do should she fall pregnant with his
child. He would offer money perhaps, or at least claim the child. “It won’t
happen. I was married for seven years and it never happened.”

His brows lifted as if the
thought had never occurred to him. “Yes, I suppose it did not.”

Eleanor offered weak smile. “It
is likely me, though Edward did not...I mean...”

She put a hand to her mouth.
She shouldn’t be disrespecting her husband like this. He had been a good man.
Was it his fault he did not find her attractive enough to bed her? Besides, the
few times he had done his duty to try to get her with child had failed. There
had to be something wrong with her.

“He did not bed you?”

“Enough to make sure there
would be no doubt about me being his wife,” she offered quietly. She pressed a
hand to his arm. “Lucian, it does not matter, I don’t feel comfortable
discussing my late husband with you. Come you must be hungry.” Motioning to the
food she had ordered up, she strode to the bathroom and paused in the doorway.
“I shall clean up then join you.”

“Or I could help you clean up.
I am in need of a bath myself, as I think I mentioned. You were kind enough to
suffer me while in such a state.”

“Oh, Lucian, how could anyone
suffer you?”

“You have suffered much of my
behaviour, Ellie.”

“Well, I gladly suffered that.”
She tilted her head towards the door where he had just had her pinned.

A fresh smile cracked his face
and he followed her to the bathroom. “Shall I help you scrub your back, or
shall you scrub mine?”

“We shall bath together?” The
idea delighted and intrigued her. Images of Lucian’s skin slick with soap
swamped her mind.

Lucian hooked an arm around her
waist and drew her to him. “We shall. And I shall leave no inch of you
unscrubbed.”

“Oh goodness.”

If she had been the swooning
type, she might very well have dropped to the ground. Then he kissed her and
her knees made a definite threat to give way. Other things were threatening to
give way too, she feared. Like her resolve to keep her distance. To use him
simply for the pleasure he could bring. Her resolve never to fall foul of
Lucian again looked as though it might be sorely tested.