Scandalous Liaisons

  “Why do you look so shocked, sweet? Surely you must have suspected how I felt.” He laid her on the bed as if she were the most priceless of treasures.

  “You came back because you love me?” she queried bitterly. “Only a besotted fool would believe that.”

  “I didn’t come back because I love you.”

  She frowned, confused.

  “I left because I love you.”

  Sebastian settled atop her and lowered his lips, effectively silencing her forthcoming questions with devastating kisses. His hard, expert mouth moved over hers, weakening her defenses, reminding her of the pleasure to be found in his arms. He rolled, taking her with him, freeing his hands to roam with questing tenderness. Hot flicks of his tongue caressed the roof of her mouth and stroked against hers. Lord, she’d almost forgotten how well the man could kiss!

  His mouth was wicked, divine, and he kissed her as if he were feasting on the taste of her. Her womb clenched on the verge of orgasm. She wiggled her hips until his cock was wedged at the moist entrance to her body.

  “Wait!” he gasped, tearing his mouth from hers, but she paid him no heed, sliding onto his throbbing cock with a pleasured moan. “Olivia!”

  Instantly his torso bucked off the bed, lifting her with him, and he was coming deep within her, crying out hoarsely as his hot seed spurted with wrenching shudders. His arms came around her in a crushing embrace, his body shivering with powerful tremors.

  Olivia held him close, wondering at the feel of him, hot and hard and jerking beneath her. When he was drained, she followed him back into the pillows.

  “Ah, sweeting,” he murmured hoarsely, stroking her spine. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop it. It’s been too long.”

  “I understand.”

  “Give me a moment to regain my senses, and I will pleasure you until morning.”

  His words, meant to entice, filled her with dread. She slipped off him while he was still too sated to stop her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Olivia ran a hand through her hair, dislodging her hairpins. “You left me, Sebastian.”

  “I had good cause,” he insisted, rolling to face her. “Originally I agreed to stay only for the short time you asked of me. But when you told me you loved me, it changed everything. I realized I loved you and wanted to be with you, but I had my men to take care of, and my ship. I had to sever my ties with them before I could begin anew with you.”

  Olivia brushed away the tear that escaped and took a deep, shuddering breath. So much resentment, fear, and even a touch of wary hope warred within her that she was overwhelmed with emotion.

  She looked over her shoulder at her husband, her heart aching at the sight of his resplendent nakedness and his beloved hair, spread out across her lacy pillows. Somehow the highly feminine trappings of her bed only emphasized his potent masculinity. But it was his gaze that most devastated her, full of longing and love and a hint of fear. She looked away, unable to bear it. “You were gone for four months.”

  His fingertips moved over her back in a rhythmic caress. “I gave my ship to Will and settled my accounts with the crew. It was my intention to cast off immediately and return to you.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No,” he agreed. “For good reason. There are twin brothers—pirates, I’m ashamed to say I associated with. I’ve angered them, and they are not men to forgive a perceived slight. The night we left Barbados they demanded you in payment of my debt.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Will informed me that the serving maid at the inn where you stayed was approached by one of the brothers. He asked questions about you, Olivia. He learned your identity. I could not allow the situation to progress any further. You were in danger because of me.”

  She spun to face him. “What did you do?”

  Sebastian reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I waited for the pirates to return to the island, and when they did, I fought with the more vicious of the two and killed him. The other managed to escape. I hunted him, but he’s hidden himself away. I have every reason to believe he’ll stay hidden. Pierre was never much of a threat without Dominique.”

  Olivia traced the swirling pattern in the Aubusson rug with her toe. “You could have told me of your plans.”

  “You were asleep,” he explained defensively. “I’d kept you awake the whole of the night and thought it best to leave quietly. I wrote you a letter.”

  She stood and paced the length of the bed. “That was no letter, my lord. That was a few lines of hastily scrawled words.”

  “I was reluctant to write more,” he admitted.

  She paused. “Why?”

  He met her gaze with such earnestness that her barely mending heart broke all over again. “If I’d delayed too long—if I’d attempted to say good-bye—I never would have been able to leave you, especially if you’d begged to come with me, which I suspected you might. Denying you would have been impossible, and it was too dangerous for you to accompany me.” Sitting up, he crossed his long legs. “Olivia. My wife. My love. Can you understand?” He held his hands out to her, pleading.

  “No, Sebastian.” She shook her head. “You left for yourself. Not for me. You—”

  “That’s not true, damn it!”

  “It is! You ran because that is what you do. You’ve been running your whole life—from your family, your responsibilities, everything. This time you were running from me.” She growled with frustration and clenched her fists. “Beautiful, damaged man that you are. I thought I could fix you, heal you, but I cannot.”

  He leapt from the bed and caught her by the shoulders. “Listen to me.”

  “No, you listen to me!” She stomped her bare foot. “You broke my heart, Sebastian Blake. Left me to the wolves while you regrouped and gathered your defenses—against me! I was getting too close, becoming too important, you—”

  “Important?” he scoffed, shaking her. “You are everything to me. I’ve given up all that I had for you!”

  She snorted. “Well, you shouldn’t have. You threw away what we had.”

  “No.” He paled beneath his tan. “Don’t say that. God . . . Olivia . . . don’t ever say that!”

  “I cannot rely on you.”

  “You can,” he promised. “I shall never leave you again. I swear it. I could no more leave you than I could stop breathing.”

  “You broke your promise before. How can I believe you now?”

  She would not survive it if he hurt her again.

  “Damn it . . .” His hands slid down her arms. “Sweetheart.” His velvety voice became soothing, seducing. “I love you, Olivia.”

  “Not enough.” She pulled away. “It’s too convenient for you to run. There is nothing to hold you to me.”

  “Our marriage, our love. I know you love me still.”

  “Apparently my love was not enough,” she whispered bitterly. “Or yours.”

  When Sebastian caught her again, she could feel the desperation in his touch. “It has to be enough, Olivia. It’s all I have.” Lifting her, he carried her to the bed.

  “You cannot get your way with seduction.”

  “Perhaps not,” he muttered. “But I can sweeten your temper.”

  Sebastian stared up at the velvet canopy and listened to the sounds of his wife’s rhythmic breathing. He’d loved her into exhaustion, but he was no closer to winning back her heart than he’d been before he started.

  Of course, it wouldn’t be so easy. When had anything in his life been easy?

  Releasing a sigh, he admitted that wasn’t entirely true. Winning Olivia’s love had been easy, almost as easy as he’d lost it. God, what a mess he was in. If her love was gone . . .

  No, he wouldn’t think about that.

  She murmured, stirring restlessly. He reached over and tucked the counterpane more securely around her.

  Olivia was his wife. He glanced at her left hand and breathed his satisfaction at the sight of his mother’s sapphire. In reality, he had
the rest of his life to win her back. But the truth was, he didn’t have the rest of his life to wait.

  He needed her love. Right now.

  Olivia had shown him what it was like to be cared for, what it was like to be happy, not merely on the outside, but deep in his soul.

  He couldn’t take many more encounters with her disregard. His father’s neglect had ceased to be of any consequence when he was still a child, but Olivia . . . His sweet, passionate Olivia. Her anger and remoteness were killing him.

  Sebastian ran an agitated hand through his hair. Nothing to hold him to her, she said. He would change that.

  He would bind himself to her, to the land, to his cursed family. He would prove to her that he could change, as long as she would be his.

  As long as she would love him again.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia woke with a start, immediately aware of her husband’s large body wrapped possessively around her. She froze for a moment, wondering what to do.

  “Morning, my love,” he murmured in a deliciously sleep-raspy voice.

  “Sebastian,” she whispered, acutely conscious of the soreness of her nipples and the ache between her thighs. “I—”

  “Shush, no arguing today.” He moved, freeing her.

  She leapt from his embrace and ducked behind the privacy screen, her heart racing with joy at finding him in her bed again.

  Silly, stupid heart. A glutton for punishment.

  As she washed with the cold water from the pitcher, she heard him rise. When the knock came to the door, she reached for her robe, then stilled midmovement, surprised to hear Sebastian order hot water for her bath, along with strong coffee. She heard the amused giggle of the chambermaid and shot a glance around the screen. Her eyes widened in horror to find Sebastian standing in the doorway wearing only a sheet. Furious, she stormed toward him, yanking him out of the way of the slamming door.

  He bit back a roguish grin and arched a brow. “Yes, my love?” His gaze raked the length of her wet and still naked form. “I am always eager to oblige your carnal desires. No need to accost me.”

  “Oooh!” She turned from him, clenching her fists. “It is indecent for you to call the servants up here while you are unclothed!”

  He laughed. “I would have retrieved a robe from my room, but the door appears to be missing.”

  Olivia turned to face him again, which was a mistake. Sebastian had discarded the sheet and stalked toward her with obvious sexual intent, his erect cock leading the way. “Damnation! Cover that thing!”

  “I intend to,” he purred. “With you.”

  She threw up her hands. “After last night, how can you possibly be so amorous? You hardly allowed me to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

  “’Tis your fault,” he retorted. “I was fine until you started traipsing around the room naked.”

  “I was not traipsing!” she protested, hurrying toward the relative safety of the screen and her robe. “I was merely curbing your ridiculous flirting. She’s a mere slip of a girl—”

  “Exactly,” he interjected, catching her about the waist and easily subduing her. “And my wife is more than enough woman for me. Jealousy and all.”

  “I’m not jealous!”

  He dropped to his knees with easy grace and laid her down. He rose above her, his long hair hanging around them, and she paused her thrashing, arrested by the magnificent sight of him. He slipped a hand between her legs and grinned. “Ah, no foreplay required.” Spreading her thighs wide, he thrust into her. “Umm . . . I missed the feel of you. You are even softer and more curvaceous than I remembered.” His mouth latched around a straining nipple.

  Olivia gasped as he filled her completely, infusing her with drugging pleasure. “The rug . . .”

  “We’ll buy another.” He withdrew and then thrust again. Hard.

  She writhed beneath him. “The servants . . .”

  “They’ll wait.” Pulling her legs around his waist, he settled into a fierce, almost brutal rhythm. “God . . . Olivia . . . I love you . . .”

  “Sebastian, you—”

  “Hang it, woman! Cease talking.”

  He took her mouth with desperate kisses, his hard body straining over and inside of her. Her hands cupped his flexing buttocks, and she moaned, relishing the feel of his body working its way into hers. Deep inside, she could feel him, stretching, prodding, stroking her deeply with unfailing skill. Tucking his arms under her knees, he held her wide as he pumped inside her, driving her quickly to the edge and then shoving her over. She was crying out her pleasure when the knock came to the door.

  Olivia shoved at his sweat-slick shoulders, mortified.

  “Wait!” he growled, his pace quickening until he was pistoning into her without mercy.

  “Sebastian!” she choked out. “They’ll hear us!”

  “Yes,” he gasped. “Come for me again, and let the whole house hear you.”

  She moaned, arching beneath him, dissolving in voluptuous bliss. When the orgasm swept over her, she cried out again, unable to contain it. Sebastian cursed when he came, his entire body stiffening before melting into powerful shudders.

  Sated, he pressed kisses against her throat. “I love you,” he whispered.

  And though her lips said nothing, her heart replied in kind.

  Sebastian watched his wife over his newspaper at the breakfast table and made a concerted effort not to smile. Olivia refused to look any of the servants in the eye, blushing to the tips of her ears when any of them spoke to her. He found it fascinating. After all, the woman had nearly unmanned him with his own blade and threatened seasoned pirates with a pistol. But apparently those were deeds she was comfortable with. Having two footmen and a slip-of-a-girl chambermaid hear their abandoned fucking was more than she could bear with dignity.

  He licked a dab of honey from his lip and felt contented. No woman could respond to a man the way Olivia had and remain unaffected. Not that he discounted her fury. He deserved it, after all. And he would pay whatever penance was required.

  She was his better half, adept at all of the things he tripped over, and yet a match for the untamed and uncivilized man within him. She was his counterpart, his soul mate, and he’d hurt her terribly, an offense he considered unforgivable. But he would correct his mistake. He had to.

  “What are our plans for the day, love?”

  She glanced up sharply. “I . . . I have a meeting this afternoon. And then a fitting at the dressmaker’s.”

  “Excellent. I have an appointment as well. What time is your fitting? I’ll escort you.”

  Her eyebrows rose to meet her hairline. “Beg your pardon?”

  “Well, I must meet with our man-of-affairs, sweeting, and make arrangements to visit the Dunsmore estates. It should be a lovely trip. We’ll take a few months, and see them all.”

  “A trip?” she repeated, dumbfounded.

  “That’s what I said.”

  Olivia stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. He bit his cheek to keep from grinning.

  Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut. “Two o’clock.”

  “Lovely, just enough time to attend to my affairs.” He pushed back from the table and dropped his paper over his plate. “I shall see you then.” He gripped the back of her chair, tipping her on the hind legs until she was looking straight up at him.

  “Sebastian! Good heavens, the servants . . .”

  He kissed her breathless. “I love you.”

  Righting her chair, he left the room before she could reply, whistling as he collected his hat and cane from the butler and swept out the door. He vaulted into the waiting coach. It wasn’t long before he stood on the landing of his man-of-affairs’ small, nondescript office.

  “Your lordship!” Benjamin Wilson quickly pulled the door all the way open. “I wasn’t aware you had returned.”

  “I arrived last eventide. How are you, Wilson?”

  “Quite well, my lord. And you?”

  “Good. Di
d you hire the investigator I requested?” Sebastian handed his cane and hat to his footman, then moved into the office. He sank into a chair facing the desk.

  “Of course!” Wilson assured him, slightly offended. “I am sorry to say, the man I hired was unable to gather as much information as I would have liked. After your departure, Lady Merrick quickly became all the rage, rendering it nearly impossible to make inquiries with any discretion.”

  Wilson opened a locked drawer in his desk and removed a file with a variety of protruding newspaper clippings. “Most of the information gathered about her came from these.”

  Sebastian made no move to open the folder. “I’ll peruse them in depth later. Give me a condensed version, if you will.”

  “Certainly.” Wilson sat back in his chair. “Lady Merrick’s first Season was rather uneventful. Very little mention is made of her in the gossip columns other than casual references to her great beauty and sense of style. Her father’s business in trade most likely made her unacceptable to most members of the Quality, and it was widely known that Lady Crenshaw sponsored her only because of the large debt Lord Crenshaw owed to Mr. Lambert.”

  Sebastian grinned. “I’d wager there is many a peer who regrets his pomposity now, eh?”

  “Definitely, my lord,” Wilson agreed, nodding. “You made a wise choice.”

  “I suppose I shall have to thank my father for that one day.” Sebastian sighed. “Regardless, please continue.”

  “Lady Merrick’s popularity increased tremendously during her second Season, when she caught the eye of Lord Haversham.”

  “The devil you say!” Sebastian cried, sitting bolt upright in his seat. Back in their Oxford days, Haversham had been a friend of his. But when Sebastian had turned into a completely worthless, dissolute, immoral scoundrel, Haversham had quickly put distance between them.

  Wilson frowned. “Yes, Lord Haversham courted Lady Merrick doggedly for the entire Season. There was heavy speculation that he would be offering for her.”