Savage Nights (The Savage Trilogy #2) (7 page)

“Perfect,” he repeated. “Now go on, Eve. Tell me more.”

I nodded and shifted in the saddle. This conversation about last night was arousing me now. I felt the familiar tension gathering low in my belly and the petaled lips of my cunt begin to swell. Surreptitiously I rubbed against the smooth, padded leather of the sidesaddle in the hope of easing some of that delicious tension.

But there was no relief, and instead the gliding pressure only made matters worse, a poor substitute for Savage himself. He was so close to me, and yet he might have been on the other side of the world for all that he would do to ease my suffering. My nipples were hard and aching from pressing against the boned prison of my corset, and I shifted once more against the saddle.

“Stop that, Eve,” Savage warned, catching me. “You’ll unsettle the horse, wriggling about like that.”

“Forgive me, Master, but I cannot help it,” I said miserably. “I want—”

“Your wanting has nothing to do with it,” he said. “You do not have my permission.”

“Yes, Master.” Like a drunkard pushing away from the bottle, I turned my gaze away from him and towards the trees, hoping that would help me control myself.

“Look at me, Eve,” he ordered, and reluctantly I did. Even after only a few moments, I was struck anew by the power his handsome face had for me. “If you finish your story to my satisfaction, then we can return to the stable, and you will be rewarded. Now continue.”

“Yes, Master,” I murmured miserably. “I will.”

I had to tense my thighs to keep my seat in the saddle, which only magnified the sensations I was feeling in my quim. I twisted the reins more tightly in my hands, trying not to move but to focus on what I said and not the heat coiling inside me—even if what I was describing for Savage was exactly what I was feeling.

“As I walked across the lobby, Master,” I began again, “I felt the silk of my dress slide over my skin, and the lace pull across my nipples. I felt your seed and my own juices slip from inside me to slide along my thighs. I let my coat fall open as if by accident, letting the men see more of my breasts beneath the red silk. It excited me to know they were admiring me and lusting for me, but the only one I wanted was you.”

He grunted. “Is that the truth, Eve?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, desire melting the words into a sigh of longing. “I felt strong and powerful and seductive, but all of it was wasted because you were not there with me. If you had not driven away, I would have run back to the motorcar to be with you. I wanted your cock, Master. I wanted you, just as I want you now.”

“We shall turn here, Eve,” he said, “and begin to make our way back to the stable. You have succeeded at the challenge. You will be rewarded.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said, my heart racing at the thought of what my reward might be. With Savage there were so many possibilities.…

The silence as we rode crackled like electricity between us, yet Savage refused to quicken the pace. Even as I sat still as I’d promised the motion of the horse beneath me was like a caress that could not be avoided. I glanced down at the front of his trousers to see if he, too, had become excited by our ride and conversation, but to my frustration his long riding coat hid any telltale signs. I hoped he shared my agitation and that those trousers were feeling abominably full and tight.

We passed another group of cavalrymen, cantering two by two back towards their barracks. I scarcely took notice of them, but Savage did.

“Did you see that, Eve?” he asked, incredulous. “Did you see how those men looked at you?”

“No, Master,” I said. “I took no notice.”

“Everywhere you go it happens,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken. “Men lust after you. It makes no difference what you wear. Even now, dressed as you are, they cannot help themselves.”

“It’s not my fault, Master,” I protested. “I’m not doing anything willfully to … to entice them.”

“That’s true,” he said. He was looking straight ahead and not at me, his profile severe. As was often the way with him, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or only making an observation. “You need do nothing, and yet it will happen, again and again. First at Wrenton, then at the hotel, and now here.”

I didn’t want him to blame me. “It’s not my fault, Savage. You must know that.”

“I do know it, Eve,” he said. “It’s simply how you
are
. You have always been beautiful. Now that you have been awakened to pleasure, you are irresistible as well. Your mouth, your eyes, your body. There’s a ripeness and a glow to you. Men cannot keep themselves from desiring you.”

“It’s never been like that for me before,” I protested. “You’ve made me that way, Master.”

“I won’t deny it,” he agreed. “Nor do I regret it, for I’ve benefited, too.”

He fell quiet again, forcing me to ask the inevitable question.

“This … this change in me,” I said carefully. “Are you happy with me as I am now?”

He frowned with obvious disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” he asked. “You are as close to perfection as any Innocent I have ever encountered. With more education, you
will
be perfect.”

“Thank you, Master,” I said, unable to keep from smiling with joy behind my veil. “But I meant about the men who look and desire me.”

“That is different.” He shook his head, his jaw tightening briefly, and I thought uneasily of how quickly—and violently—his temper had flared at Wrenton when fueled with jealousy. “It doesn’t please me, no. How can it? It’s tempting to lock you away forever so that no other man could ever enjoy your beauty—someplace far from London where you’d belong only to me.”

I hadn’t expected that, and it shocked me. I thought of how he’d shut his wife away when her madness had grown uncontrollable, and I thought, too, of Laura’s earlier warning. Most of all, I remembered my wretched childhood, surrounded by security men even as I struggled to free myself from the cocoon of my father’s great wealth and paranoia.

“You couldn’t do it,” I blurted out. “I may be your Innocent, but I won’t be your prisoner, no matter what the reason. When I was a girl my father shut me away from the rest of the world, and I vowed I’d never let it happen again.”

He glared at me, as startled by me as I’d been by him, and unconsciously he tightened his hands around the reins in his hands, making his horse whinny in protest.

“I said I was tempted to do so, Eve, not that it was my actual intention,” he said roughly. “Damnation, I want you with me by choice, Eve, not force.”

“It’s because of my father,” I said, trying to explain. “I do not want to be trapped and smothered again.”

“You are free to leave me whenever you wish,” Savage said as if I hadn’t spoken. “You are not my prisoner, and never will be. You need only say you want to leave, and then go. Do you understand me?”

I nodded slowly, unsure of what had just happened.

Did that constitute a quarrel?

And if so, had I won or lost?

“I will not leave you, Master,” I said finally. “I don’t wish for that, either.”

He didn’t answer, but his face relaxed, and I dared to continue.

“As your Innocent, I still require more training to please you,” I said. “Only you can do that. No other man could.”

“No other man will have the opportunity,” he said firmly. “None.”

“That is what I wish as well, Master,” I said. “Exactly as you promised.”

He nodded, gathering his reins as we entered the large stable yard again. There were more people and a few carriages here now, and the grooms and stableboys were darting back and forth with fresh horses. Apparently we weren’t the only ones who’d seen the appeal of a later afternoon ride.

I drew my mare beside the stable mount, and one of the stableboys hurried forward to hold her so I could climb down. To my surprise, Savage himself stepped forward to help me as I did, his hand on the small of my back for support. It was a small, gallant gesture, yet I felt the heat of his touch radiate from my back through my body.

“Send your man back to the Savoy,” he said, leaning close so we wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re coming home with me now.”

“Yes, Master,” I murmured, breathless with anticipation. After last night, I’d feared he did not want me in his house. “Should I have him return later?”

“No,” Savage said. “You can send for him in the morning.”

In the morning.
I nodded, my excitement building.

My servant had just climbed down from his own horse, and I called for him to join me.

“I no longer require you here, Robert,” I said, attempting to use my customary brisk manner. “You may return to the hotel.”

Robert frowned uneasily, unwilling to believe me. I understood his reluctance. My servants considered me a fragile widow, in need of protection and looking after. They would be as unaccustomed to my new role as I was myself. Perhaps even more so.

“Are you certain, Mrs. Hart?” he asked. “It’s no bother.”

“I will be well enough, Robert,” I said with more kindness. “You may go, and leave me.”

“Do as your mistress bids you,” Savage said curtly. “Leave us.”

“Yes, my lord,” Robert said, his expression fixed as he bowed and left.

“You needn’t have been so sharp,” I protested. “Robert meant well.”

“He questioned your order,” Savage said. “He failed to show you the respect you deserve as his mistress, and he had no right to distrust me so openly.”

I’d thought only of myself, but now that Savage had explained it I realized that Robert was suspicious of him, much as my maid, Hamlin, had been earlier.

“Then I apologize for Robert’s behavior towards you,” I said. “I’ll address it when I return.”

“It’s not simply a question of addressing his behavior,” Savage insisted. “How can you trust your life to a man who—”

“Mrs. Hart!”

I recognized that booming voice at once and swiftly turned around. Baron Blackledge was also dressed for riding, his bull-like frame encased in a dark-green jacket, buff trousers, and gleaming dark boots with spurs. He wore a tweed homburg hat angled over his fleshy face, no doubt in homage to the king’s taste for similar hats, but without His Majesty’s aplomb. Beneath the hat, Blackledge’s ginger-colored hair was crisp with too much pomade, and his brows bristled so aggressively I wondered if he used the same pomade on them as well.

In fact, everything about the baron was aggressive. I’d learned that last week at Wrenton. First he had tried to win me in a mock slave auction that had been part of the Game, and when that had failed he had forcibly tried to take me as his own. He was an overbearing bully with a taste for inflicting pain upon others, and I’d no doubt that if he’d had the chance he would have raped me and used me most barbarously.

Only Savage had saved me then, and automatically I shrank closer to his side now as the baron came charging across the stable yard towards us.

“I did not expect that our paths would cross again so soon, Mrs. Hart,” he said as he joined us. He stood with his legs planted wide apart, ignoring Savage completely, and lightly slapped his leather quirt against his thigh. “You left me last night before I’d time for a proper farewell.”

“She wasn’t with you, Blackledge,” Savage said, his voice low and filled with warning. “There was no need for her to say so much as a word to you.”

I glanced around nervously. All around us, other riders were coming and going with their horses, unaware of our small drama, and stableboys and grooms passed us without so much as a glance. No doubt they all believed this to be simply one more polite conversation between two well-dressed gentlemen and a lady.

I knew otherwise. The tension growing between the two men was as palpable as a rising thunderstorm, and I knew if I didn’t speak the results would be every bit as dangerous.

“Please leave us at once, Baron,” I said, striving to sound as stern as possible. “I have nothing further to say to you.”

But Blackledge only laughed, showing too much of his teeth. I hated how he looked at me, as if I were a commodity to be purchased and used.

“Dear Mrs. Hart!” he said. “How you amuse me! Why would you squander your beautiful self on this bastard when you could be mine?”

“Because Mrs. Hart is a lady of taste and refinement, Blackledge,” Savage said curtly. “She has no interest in a damnable parvenu like yourself.”

I edged closer to Savage, making my allegiance clear. Without looking down I sensed his hands had clenched into fists at his sides, both from anger and in readiness. Blackledge was the larger man, but I’d witnessed the raw fury of Savage when his temper took control, and I prayed this confrontation wouldn’t come to that.

Not that Blackledge cared. He raised his bristling brows, and his smile became a sneer.

“I’d say she has an interest in me,” he said. “She’s no better than any common strumpet in the arches of Covent Garden. She’s hungry for what I can give her, Savage. I see it in her eyes.”

“No,” I said, my denial automatic. “I want nothing from you.”

I slipped my hand into Savage’s arm. His muscles were rigid beneath my fingers, ready—too ready—to attack. I did not want anything from Blackledge, but I also didn’t want to inspire a common brawl in a stable yard.

“Come, my lord,” I said, trying to coax Savage away. “If he will not leave us, then we shall leave him.”

But Savage wasn’t ready to leave. Instead he acted as if he hadn’t heard me, all his energy focused on Blackledge. We’d finally drawn the attention of the others around us in the stable yard, with a loose circle of bystanders pausing to watch what might happen next.

“Apologize to Mrs. Hart, Blackledge,” Savage demanded, his voice raised and sharp. “Take back what you said of her, and apologize now.”

Blackledge didn’t move. “Why should I take it back, when it’s the truth? Look at her and how ready she is for me, and tell me she isn’t.”

He raised the quirt and lightly touched the braided leather lash to my breast in a suggestive caress. I gasped at his audacity and jerked backwards and away from him as if I’d been burned.

But as swiftly as I moved, Savage moved faster.

He tore the quirt from Blackledge’s hand, snapped it in two, and threw it to the ground.