Annette Blair - Scandalous Brides

Worse and worse! She had to escape before Jack came seeking her, or she really would have this foolish boy's blood on her head. “Sir Lawrence, I'm very flattered, of course, but—”

Again he interrupted her. She was beginning to find that irritating. “Come away with me, now, tonight! We can be in Dover by morning, in France tomorrow. Once in Paris, no one will find us. I'll shower you with—”

“No, you will not!” she interrupted him in turn. “Stop this at once. I am a married woman, and fully intend to remain so. If I have raised any expectations I am truly sorry, but I cannot go to Paris or anywhere else with you. Now let me go!”

“I recommend you do as the lady asks,” drawled Jack's voice from the hallway. Unless, of course, you'd care to answer to me?”

NINETEEN

ENRAGED AS HE WAS on discovering his wife in a tryst with another man, Jack rather enjoyed the effect his words had on the pair before him. Nessa gasped, a hand flying to her throat and her eyes widening with horror. Sir Lawrence, still on his knees, nearly fell on his face as he attempted to turn and rise simultaneously.

“Jack!” Nessa squeaked. “How did you—?”

Sir Lawrence regained his balance and planted himself directly in front of her, facing him. “Ungallant of you to spy on your wife, my lord,” he sputtered. “And it'll do you no good. I mean to take her—”

At that point, Jack's precarious hold on his temper snapped. Almost without his volition, his fist shot out to connect squarely with the young man's nose. Sir Lawrence fell heavily onto his posterior, his mouth open in amazement and pain. He groped for a handkerchief to staunch the blood suddenly spurting from his nose and struggled back to his feet.

“I think not,” said Jack coldly before the other man could act or speak. “You're welcome to name your seconds, of course, but if I were you, I'd not want it generally known that I was knocked down in my pursuit of another man's wife. I suggest you occupy yourself elsewhere.”

Sir Lawrence glowered for a moment, though the effect was rather spoiled by the bloody handkerchief he held to his face. As Jack held his eye with the steely glare that had intimidated bolder men than he, Sir Lawrence's defiance wavered, then crumbled. With one apologetic glance at Nessa, he fled the conservatory.

Jack now turned to his wife, who still stood in shock, both hands covering her mouth. “Let us hope I adequately discouraged him from calling me out. I trust your modesty will not be outraged if I fail to challenge him on your behalf?”

Wide-eyed, she shook her head. “Please… please do not.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I never thought— that is, I had no idea—”

“What effect you have on men?” he asked, moving closer to her. “Oh, I think you had a very good idea, my dear. Why else would you have worn this dress, so obviously designed to elicit desire?”

The horror faded from her eyes and she regarded him candidly. “I only meant to elicit it in yourself, my lord, not in every man present. I seem to have achieved quite the opposite effect, however.”

He took another step toward her, so that they were nearly touching. “Opposite? Hardly that.” Her perfume surrounded him, intoxicating his senses. “In fact, I should say you have succeeded rather too well.”

“I have?” she breathed, swaying toward him.

By way of answer, he gathered her into his arms and lowered his lips to hers. This time she did not resist, but responded with a fire rivaling his own. Her arms twined about his neck, pulling him closer until his body molded to hers, their tongues urgently stroking each other. Jack groaned, deep in his throat. His nether garments suddenly felt far too tight.

“Oh, Jack, I've wanted you so,” she gasped. “Why did you not come?”

“You never asked,” he murmured, tracing his lips along her jawline to the sensitive spot below her ear.

She shuddered slightly. “I'm asking now,” she whispered, sliding one hand down to cup him through his breeches.

Now it was Jack's turn to shudder with longing, though her forwardness in such a setting amazed him. “Let us go home, then. I'm certain I'll not last out the evening after this sort of encouragement.”

But Nessa pulled him in for another heated kiss. “I'm not certain I'll last till we get home,” she sighed a moment later. “This is a lovely place, and I see a divan over there, by those ferns. Perhaps, if we lock the door…”

“Nessa!” Jack's laughter was tinged with urgent longing. “Pray do not tease me like this. I've half a mind to call your bluff.”

“Who's bluffing?” she asked, slanting a seductive glance up at him through half-closed lashes. “Don't tell me that in all your colorful career you never did anything more scandalous?”

At the moment, Jack could barely recall anything he'd ever done with any other woman. His every sense, every nerve, was focused on Nessa. Her perfume, mingling with that of the flowers about them, her touch, her voice… “I've never been more tempted to, that's certain.”

“Well, then?” She slid her hands up and down his back, then around to his thighs, urging him beyond rational thought.

“Very well, my naughty wife. Just a moment.” He turned and closed the door, only to find no key to lock it from the inside. Still, what were the chances of anyone finding them here? He shoved the heavy iron doorstop in front of the door, so they'd at least have warning should it open, then turned back to Nessa.

“If you're not serious about this, now is the time to tell me.”

By way of response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the divan. Screened from the door by three small orange trees surrounded by exotic flowers, it nestled amid towering ferns near the far wall. Casting caution to the wind, Jack sat down and drew her against him.

“Perhaps we need a conservatory at Fox Manor,” he murmured, attending to her throat again with his lips. “What say you, madam wife?”

“Hmmm… Let's see how this one works before we make any rash decisions.” She loosened his cravat and ran her fingers through his hair, then began to unbutton his coat.

Snatching at the last vestiges of his control, Jack grasped her hands. “My darling, if you insist upon having me here and now, we'll have to forego disrobing entirely. We must be prepared to look innocent in short order, should any discover us here.”

“I rely upon your expertise,” she said with a smile that nearly sent him to the edge again. “Show me.”

Fumbling somewhat in his haste and need, Jack began to undo the front fastening of his breeches. At once, Nessa reached to help him, clearly as eager as he. Lifting her skirts, he was pleased and relieved to discover she wore nothing beneath her garters and petticoats. Touching her, he found her wet and ready for him.

She had now freed him from the upper portion of his breeches, so he shifted until he lay on his back upon the divan, which was luckily long enough to support him. Before he could direct her, Nessa took the initiative, climbing astride him. She lowered herself upon him, engulfed him, and the world receded, narrowing to only the two of them.

Nessa had never been so aroused, not even in the earliest days of her marriage when sexual pleasure was new to her. Perhaps it was the risk of being caught, perhaps it was her brief estrangement from Jack, but she wanted him as never before. With an ecstatic gasp, she impaled herself upon him, driving him deeply into her until he filled her completely.

Jack reached up to fondle her breasts, already hard with desire, through the thin silk of her gown, propelling her to even greater desire. Slowly, then faster, she began to rock, riding him toward mutual release. Gripping him convulsively, she climaxed, a soaring sensation more intense than any before. At once, Jack tensed beneath her, driving upwards once, twice, then pulling her down upon him as he shuddered with his own release.