Part 9 (1/2)
And when she sighed, and he insinuated his tongue into her mouth, probing, touching, stroking...why, she thought she might simply go mad.
She raised her arms to slide them around his neck, her cloak falling away without notice or care. It was only important that she hang on, keep him close, urge him closer. Because there was more than awareness in her now. There was hunger, a hunger she didn't understand but felt certain only he knew how to feed.
His hands went to her head, and she could feel the slight tug as he pulled the pins from her hair, slid his fingers into the tumbling curls even as he sighed against her mouth. He liked that? That was good, because she liked it, as well. Very much.
Now his hands were on her shoulders, and he was kissing her ear, his breath hot against her, sending s.h.i.+vers down her arms. He was pressing kisses along the length of her neck, and she was falling...no, he had her. He had her safe, and if they were falling, they were falling together, until she was lying on the soft velvet cloak.
And he was still kissing her, his fingers lightly tugging at the squared neckline of her chemise, his lips following the descent of the lace-edged silk, setting her skin on fire, making it impossible for her to breathe, but only possible to gasp in surprise as her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were suddenly free of the silk and he was touching her...touching her everywhere, kissing her everywhere, whispering that she was beautiful, she was everything, she was heaven and h.e.l.l and the world in between....
His mouth closed over one taut, straining nipple, and Alina pressed her head back, raising her chin, raising her upper body toward him, offering she knew not what, as long as he didn't stop, never stopped.
She wanted to be touched, needed to be touched. Would simply die if this feeling went away.
His fingers closed over her other nipple, squeezing, rubbing, and she cried out at the intensified pleasure that shot through her, caused an ache to begin between her thighs. She dragged her nails down his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath the fine lawn of his s.h.i.+rt, the faint shuddering of those same muscles as she cupped her breast, lifting it for him as he stroked the very tip with his wonderfully rough fingers.
She was his instrument, and he was composing a symphony upon her body. She soared, she swept, she sighed. She urged, she purred, she demanded. Because there was more, there had to be more. No symphony, no matter how wonderful, doesn't build, and build, the way she felt her senses building, without a heart-pounding crescendo somewhere, a thrilling climax, a sound so perfect and wonderful that it stops your heart, your breathing, only to take you up, up, into the stars before at last returning you to earth.
She was his instrument, and as Justin strummed her, his tongue flicking at her in time with his stroking thumb, his thigh somehow insinuated between her thighs, pressing hard against her, urging her to return that pressure.
Without thought, without shame, she responded, rubbing herself against him. With growing awe, she knew there was a crescendo coming to her, an ending to the symphony, yes, but one that she had to know.
And yet, when it happened, when the glorious became nearly intolerable, when her body at last found its own music, as her eyes flew open wide and she could only hold on to Justin as every cymbal crashed, and her heart became a tympani, she was still aware somewhere inside of her that it wasn't enough.
Not for her. Not for him.
Justin covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and rolled onto his back, taking her with him, pressing her cheek against his chest as his arm came around her and held her close.
They lay there for some time, feeling the heat from the fire, barely stirring when a log burned through and crashed in the grate. Alina's breathing at last returned to something less frantic, and her heartbeat was no longer audible in her ears.
And still she said nothing. Justin said nothing.
The mantel clock chimed out the hour, and at last Justin moved. He kissed the top of her head, and then helped her sit up, lifted her cloak up and around her shoulders.
She looked at him in open curiosity. ”Why...why was that all?”
He retrieved his snifter of brandy and downed the remainder of its contents.
”You're supposed to sip, remember?”
He put down the snifter and, at last, he smiled at her. ”I should be shot,” he said affably enough. ”That...uh...that wasn't intended. It was to start and end with a kiss.”
Alina drew the edges of the cloak close together over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”I know. Tatiana explained it all to me. Gentlemen can be overcome by l.u.s.t at the drop of a hat. They can't help themselves. It wasn't your fault.”
”Tatiana? She said that? And who, pray, is this font of wisdom?”
”My companion. She was once my maid, but now she's my companion, and Danica is my dresser.”
”I see. And which is which, may I ask, so that I can thank your companion for having explained it all to you?”
”Now you're being facetious. I know I really don't know anything. In point of fact, until just now I thought the whole thing...” She stopped herself.
Justin helped her to her feet. ”Yes? You thought the whole thing what?”
Alina bent her head and muttered the word beneath her breath.
He leaned closer, pus.h.i.+ng her tangled curls away from her face. ”Your pardon, kitten. I didn't quite catch that.”
”Repulsive,” she said quietly, and then looked up into his face. ”I thought the entire thing repulsive. There, I've said it.”
”Ah, I see. Now I wonder if Tatiana's explanations left much to be desired, or if I should thank her again, as she made it much easier for the reality to exceed your woefully low expectations. Although I will tell you, I believe that I am not completely without talent, and that you are delightfully teachable. That is who I was supposed to be tonight, wasn't it, my curious little kitten? Your teacher? Your small experiment in what it means to be a woman? It may be a little late for warnings, but you should know that it is dangerous to play with me.”
She wasn't certain which most upset her, his words or his tone. She only knew that the next thing she was aware of was the stinging of her palm after it had connected with his smiling face.
”Good,” Justin said as she turned and began to run toward the door, her face aflame with shame. ”We'll deal much better these next days if you hate me. Or at least I will.”
She whirled about to face him, her cloak swirling around her feet-which would have been marvelously dramatic, she supposed, except that she nearly tripped over the thing as she walked back to him.
”I don't understand you. I don't understand any of this very much, but I don't understand you most of all. Why are you here? You've already told your Prince Regent that you won't do as he wants you to do. You won't marry me. So what does it matter to you if Inhaber Novak wants to kill me? I am none of your concern. You've made your own bed with your Prince Regent, for whatever reasons, so why don't you just go lie in it, and leave me to myself? Luka is more than capable of protecting me. He was a soldier, and loyal to my father. You were nothing but a, a- Oh, and that's another thing! I have no idea what you were, what you are. So thank you very much, my lord, but we won't be requiring your services anymore. Luka will shoot the Inhaber dead and then take me to my mother's family. You, my lord, can...can simply go to straight to h.e.l.l.”
”Wait,” Justin said quietly, just as she was about to make a second attempt at a dramatic exit, this time first carefully raising her cloak hem above her bare ankles. ”There is no good time to tell you this. There is no family here in England for you to go to, Alina.”
”There's not?” Alina felt the first stirrings of what could turn out to be real panic. ”But-”
”Your mother had a single surviving relative, a sibling, a brother, Robert, Earl of Birling. He died without issue a little over eight years ago, in a duel. Everything was entailed, and there were no more living male relatives to inherit. The t.i.tles, the lands, everything reverted to the Crown at that time. Your mother didn't know, Alina, because when she married your father the Farber family cut her off and had nothing to do with her ever since. She never told you that?”
Alina stumbled to a chair and sat down with a thump. ”No...no, she never said anything.” She looked up at Justin, her eyes awash in tears. ”Disowned her? Why?”
”Your mother was several years older than her brother, who was a contemporary of mine. I don't know the entire story, but there was something about the disgrace of having the only daughter married to...to a b.l.o.o.d.y foreigner. I'm sorry, that's all I know.”
Alina rubbed her hands together in her lap. ”So I am totally alone. Aren't I, Justin? Except for Aunt Mimi, of course, but I could not go back to her. I really couldn't. And...and you won't marry me.”
He took hold of the desk chair and put it down in front of her, backward, and straddled it. His face was so serious, she felt frightened.
”No, kitten, I can't marry you. I told you, I'm a fugitive. Once you're safe, I'll be leaving England, never to return, or at least not until the Prince Regent is dead and unable to refute his signed pardon I have safely tucked away. Even a week ago I would have given everything I own to remain here, but now leaving is not only necessary, but I'm actually glad to be going. There's nothing here I want anymore save for a few friends. My estate is in the hands of my longtime manager, and will wait for me. It's not entailed in any event. What fortune that has remained here is my own and is already on its way to join with the bulk of my funds in Brussels.”
”It all sounds so neat and tidy, the way you say it. And bloodless. You really don't care, do you? It's not a sham. You'd be safe in Brussels?” She didn't know why she asked that last question, why it was suddenly so important to her that he be safe.
He shook his head. ”Once I make it to Brussels, I'll set sail for America. I've had my fill of kings, a surfeit of kings. The Americans got rid of us, and I think they had the right of it.”
”America,” she repeated. ”That's a world away.”
”A lifetime away. But you'll be fine here, Alina. While I was in London I made arrangements with my banker. My town house in London is now yours, as is a small estate located very near my friend Tanner Blake and his wife. I've already alerted them that you will soon be taking up residence, and I know Tanner will agree to manage your finances for you until such time as they present you next season in London and you capture the eye of half the gentlemen there. You are, no matter what, the granddaughter of an English earl, the daughter of a war hero. Prinny won't say a word against you. He can't, not after half of London is already sending around the word that I paid him fifty thousand pounds for the pardon he gave me.”
Alina's head was spinning. She would be safe. She would be her own person, here in England. He was giving her the world. This man who barely knew her, this man who owed her nothing, was giving her everything. ”I, um, I...thank you. You didn't have to...that is, there was no reason for you to...thank you.”
He reached out and took her hand. ”There was every reason, Alina. That's what you don't know but the Prince Regent did. Your uncle's duel was with me, and I fled England to escape the hangman for putting a period to Robbie Farber's existence. The Prince Regent summoned me back, pardoned me, so he could use me to rid Francis of this Inhaber Novak. And also to have himself a giggle or two at my expense, I'm sure, knowing I could not turn away from this chance to make up for my crime. I doubt he's considered the possibility of your death any more real than he would a play at Covent Garden. The man already half believes he fought with Wellington at Waterloo. Insanity seems to be his father's gift to him.”