Sinful Possession (11 page)

Feet burrowed in the warm sand, Ash admired the way the
sun darted between the clouds and cast dark, shadowy patches over the sea. A
light breeze ruffled his hair, but it wasn’t enough to make him worry about
Lila’s welfare. He fought the temptation to lie back and admire her like that.
But he had to stay on his guard.

He could still appreciate her
from his position on the beach, however. Standing rigid, he watched her lift
the hem of her skirts and dart into the sea. She threw a smile at him over her
shoulder and her loose hair swirled around her face. He wanted to push his
fingers into that hair and capture that smile on his own lips so badly that he
had to force his toes deeper into the sand to prevent himself from doing so.

How much longer would they
be here? He’d told Jasper to ensure they were contacted by direct messenger
only. No letters or telegrams. Nothing that could be traced to them here. But
he’d heard nothing yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brothers—he did—but
they couldn’t remain here forever.

Who knew what would happen
between him and Lila if they did.

Jasper would resolve this,
he assured himself. As much as he hated depending on his brothers—something he
never, ever did—he knew Jasper had the determination and reach to reveal the chief
as the killer. His other brothers weren’t without their smarts either. He could
quite easily admit they were all far savvier than he was. Between them, they
couldn’t fail to ensure the killer was brought to justice.

Lila’s laugh danced through
the air toward him, like the sound of a siren beckoning him to his doom. He
unrooted his feet and took a step forward. He’d never really seen anything like
it. His childhood had been severe, and he and his brothers were all fairly
rough with one another. The only brother to even consider the opposite sex when
they were younger had been Gideon, who seemed to manage to befriend every woman
in England.

And his experiences with
women had been limited to the bed and occasional ballroom.

Another step. Even as he
fought with himself, he drew closer to the water’s edge. The sand turned damp
and sketched with ripples, and tiny spirals left by sea worms dotted it. His
toes sank into the surface, and he bent to pick up a particularly pretty shell,
recalling how Lila had begged him to take her to the beach, telling him how she
loved to collect shells.

Ash let a wry smile slip
across his face. Funny, she hadn’t collected one shell yet but had spent much
time drawing off her shoes and stockings and frolicking in what had to be
fairly icy water.

Lila lifted her skirts
higher, revealing an expanse of calf, all the way up to her knees. He swallowed
at the sight of shapely calves and porcelain skin. She had no idea what she was
doing to him. The ridiculous thing was, he could never have considered himself
particularly swayed by a women’s legs. He’d rather admire an ample cleavage or
a round rear. But those legs had never been Lila’s, and it seemed everything
about her made hot desire flow through him.

She waded deeper, and he
inched closer. The waves were gentle, only touching the hem of her skirts—not
that she seemed bothered. But he still feared her tripping and somehow being
pulled under. In all of a few feet of water.

What a fool.

Eyes glowing, she turned her
grin fully onto him. His heart did some strange motion that had little to do
with beating and everything to do with his need for Lila.

“Oh.”

Ash scowled. She stumbled.
He leaped forward and grabbed for her. She cried out as he reached her and
latched his arms around her. Her legs seemed to give way, and he scooped her up
out of the water, heedless for his now drenched trousers.

“Lila?” His heart pumped in
his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“My leg,” she spluttered out
while he carried her back to shore. Once on dry land, he put her down and drew
a breath into his tight chest. When he looked at her ashen face, he saw tears
running down her cheeks. She bit her lip and her chin trembled.

He knelt beside her and
lifted her sodden skirts. He saw nothing but creamy, slightly sand-dusted skin.

“Ash,” she said, closing her
eyes. “It hurts.”

“Where, Lila?”

“Higher. My thigh.”

He gritted his teeth and
inched her dress higher. Sucking in a breath, through his gritted teeth, he
shook his head. “Oh, Lila, darling.”

A scarlet zig-zag pattern
travelled across her upper thigh marring her skin. He recognised the mark
immediately. A jellyfish sting. Harris had suffered the same when they were
children and staying here with his mother. Lila’s didn’t look nearly as severe—it
seemed the jellyfish had only brushed her—but he doubted that would be of any
comfort.

“Shhh, all will be well,” he
assured her at the same time as cursing himself for letting her go in the sea.

He’d known there were
jellyfish here. When Harris had been stung, their nanny had tried to stop them
from swimming, but there was no controlling a group of young boys so they
ignored the advice. However, he was an adult now and knew better.

He leaned over and pressed a
firm kiss to her forehead before inspecting the red mark. There were no
tentacles or barbs as far as he could see. Damnation. He’d been distracted.
What if it had been something worse, like the killer? Really, he was lucky it
was just a sting—and a relatively small one at that. That didn’t stop him from
wanting to take away that pain and suffer it himself. After all, he went
through agony with his migraines on a regular basis. Far rather him suffer it
than Lila.

“All will be well,” he
assured her again. “I’m just going to wash it with sea water.”

He gave her hand a quick
squeeze and stood to scoop some sea water. He rinsed her leg and inspected it
again. Her little sobs burrowed inside him and wrenched at his heart. There was
little more he could do. The physician had suggested something with Harris if
he recalled correctly, but it had only made the sting worse. He might have a
little laudanum, if not he’d dose her with some strong brandy.

“Come on, let’s get you back
to the house.”

She nodded and latched her
arms around him as he lifted her. His heart juddered. She did it again, tucked
herself into his neck. Her damp skirts slapped against his body, and she was
still slightly crusty with sand, as were his trousers at this point. There was
nothing comfortable about this scenario, least of all for her, yet part of him
longed to remain like this for as long as he could.

Ash could imagine curling up
with her at night, her head resting on his shoulder as they talked about their
day. Then when another migraine struck, she would push her fingers into his
hair and speak soothing words. More than anything he longed for that. He
glanced down at the creases in her brow and her trembling lip. The need to
protect her was fierce. Stronger than anything he’d known. There was no denying
it at this point. He wanted to protect her for a lifetime. But what should he
do about it?

Nothing until they could
prove Newton was the killer. Maybe even nothing after that. Aside from their
kisses, she’d given no hint she had feelings for him.

By the time he’d made his
way up to the house, his breaths came fast and hard. Lila whimpered with each
step. The initial fear for her had drained away, and he was left feeling a
little weak. The sting wasn’t life-threatening and for that he was grateful. To
lose Lila would kill him, he was certain of that.

He took her into the house
and up to her bedroom. Once he’d laid her out on the bed, he pushed the hair
back from her face and looked into her eyes. Those beautiful eyes clouded with
pain tore at his gut.

“Lila, I am going to get you
something for the pain. I will not be gone long, I swear.”

“Do not leave me.”

“I will be as fast as I can,
I promise.”

Ash moved quickly down to
the kitchens and searched the cupboards. No laudanum but some decent brandy, so
that would have to do. He snatched up a glass and stalked upstairs. She
remained in the same position he’d left her, gripping the bedsheets while tears
trickled down her cheeks. She swiped her nose and looked at him mournfully.

“Here.” He poured her a
large glass of brandy. “This will help.”

She eyed the glass
doubtfully. “I don’t normally drink liquor.”

“Then it will certainly
help.” He offered it again.

Lila took the drink and had
a tentative sip. Her nose wrinkled but under his watchful eye, she drained it.
She blinked a few times and passed the empty glass to him. “My body feels
warmer already.”

“Good.” He glanced over her
sand-encrusted dress and grimaced to himself. This would be utter torture. “You
cannot stay in that dress.”

Colour rose in her cheeks. “Oh.”

“May I...?”

She nodded. “I can’t move my
leg. I think I need your help.”

“Brave girl.”

Trust Lila to be so
practical. Any other woman would be shying away and telling him he dare not
touch her, but they had little choice and he couldn’t leave her in damp
clothes.

He hitched her skirts and
fought any reaction to seeing her long legs under those petticoats. He was no
stranger to unbuttoning dresses so he had it off fairly quickly. He set to work
on her petticoats. Molten desire flowed quickly through him at the sight of her
in just a corset and drawers. He wanted to remove them too. They now sat high
on her thighs, pushed up above the sting, but he wasn’t sure how to do so and
preserve her modesty. Her corset, however, needed to go.

Ash sat beside her and eased
her to sitting. Arms wrapped about her, he worked on the laces. She rested her
head on his shoulder, accepting his help. He swallowed hard. It would be so
easy to strip her bare now. Her breasts would be free against the cotton of her
chemise in a mere moment. Only a slip of fabric separated him from touching her
properly, maybe even bringing her enough pleasure to help her forget the pain.

He clenched his jaw and drew
in a weighted breath. This wasn’t about his desires. From the moment he’d met
Lila it had been all about her. Her safety, her welfare. He’d die for this
woman. So he would easily forget his needs to care for her.

Flinging away the corset in
a way that had her giggling slightly, he eased her back down and couldn’t
resist pressing another kiss to her head. He poured one more generous helping
of brandy and had her drink it. She slumped back, her body weighted by the
alcohol and gave him a sleepy look.

“How is the pain?”

“I-it still hurts, I think.”
She yawned. “My head is fuzzy.”

“If you can sleep, you
should. Hopefully when you awaken the pain will have eased.”

Lila nodded slowly and
sighed. He shifted but her hand snatched out and grabbed his wrist. “Do not
leave me.”

His throat worked. “Of
course.”

Ash drew up the sheets
around her, carefully avoiding her leg. And trying to avoid looking at her.
With the exception of the angry red mark on her thigh, they were perfection.
Long, elegant. It was far too easy to picture them wrapped about his hips. He
felt a heel for thinking such things while she was in pain but, well, he was
just a man after all.

She tugged his arm—a gentle
command. Ash lay down next to her and found himself surrounded by woman. She
curled into him, her breaths blowing softly against his neck. Every part of him
was on alert, but she seemed to have instantly relaxed. Her injured leg wrapped
about his own and if he looked down he could see the curve of her rear peeking
out from underneath the lifted hem of her drawers.

Of course, he wouldn’t look
down. Absolutely not.

His gaze dropped. Damnation.
He switched his attention to her face, aware it wouldn’t help his aroused state
but knowing it was at least a little more gentlemanly. Her lashes fluttered and
lowered. He skimmed his gaze over her cheekbones and nose then down to her lips
that parted as her breaths deepened. The brandy was a fine idea after all. With
any luck she’d sleep deeply and the pain would be a great deal less when she
awoke.

Ash tried to force his body
to relax while he thought on what they would do once this was over. Her family
were likely baying for his blood at present, and he imagined gossip was running
rife. But once his brothers had evidence of the chief’s murdering ways, surely
they would understand? Lila could go back to the life of a debutante and dance
with as many earls or whatever as she wished.

The gnawing sensation in his
gut told him otherwise. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want her
to go back to that either. If she was considered ruined in society’s eyes, he’d
be ordered to marry her. No hardship on his behalf. All doubts about marriage
had fled him long ago. Marriage to Lila would never be dull, he knew that now.
But he wouldn’t force such a thing upon her. She’d already had so much taken
from her by the murdering bastard. He thought it likely she’d never forget
those moments.

He laid there until the sun
dipped low in the sky. Golden streams of light danced into the windows, and
from his position, he saw pink streaks breaking up the sky. His arm had grown
stiff. At some point, he’d have to move and relieve himself as well as find a
drink. His mouth was dry and his stomach had started to grumble.