Page 26 of An Earl’s Sacrifice (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #3)

“I feel a megrim coming on,” Meredith told Lucius as they walked through the dimly lit corridor to their suites. “I know one is not supposed to disparage one’s parent so, but…”

“Shush,” Lucius whispered. At his door, he tugged her inside. “We need to talk.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” She pressed the heel of her hand to the bridge of her nose. The shock of that disturbing kiss when he’d put his tongue in her mouth that had dissipated through dinner came surging back. Her breasts tingled with discomfort and wanton need.

He pulled her inside. “No.” The chamber was empty, and she wondered where his trusted valet was.

“Thank you for defending my abilities for putting the estate together. I know how difficult it was for you.” She gave him a small smile. “Especially where Mr. Ashcroft is concerned.”

“Yes, it was. You owe me a boon for that bit of balderdash.”

“A boon!” What an opportunist. She narrowed her eyes on him. “What kind of boon?”

In a sudden move, she was backed against the closed door, his hands flattened on the solid oak door behind her, one at each side of her head.

“What—”

“Taking my boon.” His voice, a low husky growl, sent a shiver of heated awareness over her, through her.

Her stomach dipped. Not with dread, but with anticipation. Her lips had hardly had time to recover from that unexpected feathering he’d tortured her with just before dinner. In front of her father .

“What—” she started again. But, again, the chance to speak was stolen as his lips moved over hers in a caress that had her knees trembling.

They didn’t crash; they didn’t feather. This was a firm press and a suckle of her bottom lip where he took his time.

The touch of his tongue against her lips again sent a bolt of current through her, reviving her into a burning ember from the fire in the grate.

The intensity was no less shocking than it had been in the hidden library.

She couldn’t believe her legs hadn’t turned to ashes and disintegrated beneath her.

He gentled the pressure into a wisp of warm breeze that had her insides quivering with shameful desire.

Shameful? How could that be? They were wed! Her skin prickled into small bumps and her nipples pebbled. A moan rose deep within her chest, and she clutched at his frockcoat.

“Oh, Meredith.” Heated breath mingled with hers in that low tone he expelled that rippled over her. “What are we to do?”

“Do?” she whispered.

He let out a sigh and stepped back, his arms falling away leaving a cool sensation.

Her skin doused in a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. “I-I don’t understand.” And, she didn’t. She didn’t understand why she was suddenly frightened, or feared being alone, or… feared being deserted …

Meredith rubbed her palms over her upper arms. “I did something wrong, didn’t I?

You’re still angry that I went into the ruin.

Or, or, that I hired Mr. Ashcroft. I’ve already told you—” He cut her off with another kiss, but she jerked away and swept her dignity about herself in a cloak of outrage.

“ You are the one who left me here with no explanation; no ‘I’m sorry this isn’t for me’; no ‘I will not be returning’—”

He spun around so quickly, she had no time to react. His hands gripped her upper arms and he shook her sharply. “I was wrong. I was angry. As angry as you, I expect. I… I was also an idiot.”

The expression on his face stunned her. The regret. And, it stung. She tried shrugging him off, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Neither of us deserved what our fathers did to us, but they did. And…” He drew in a deep breath, set his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t give you a second thought. It was thoughtless of me.”

“And selfish,” she added.

“And selfish. I find myself conflicted from the inside out. I want you and that—”

“Frightens you.” She nodded. “Yes, I can see how such an about face would disturb someone who came here only seeking an annulment.” The bite of bitter sarcasm could not be stemmed, but she softened it with a smile.

“Not ‘frightens’ exactly,” he hedged.

“Then what?” she demanded. She tired of these flights of fancy he tossed out at will.

His gaze moved to the ceiling as if she’d pinned him to the ground with stakes. “I’m not certain. I just know I don’t want to stop kissing you.” His eyes found hers and once again their intensity startled her. “We are married.”

“That is not enough for me. It may have been at one time. But no longer.” She huffed out her frustration and, again, tried shoving him away.

“Stop,” he said, his voice fraying. “Can’t you understand? I want to help. I admire what you’ve accomplished since you’ve been here.”

Still, she struggled. Then froze. “What?”

He took her hand and led her to the small seating area before a less than robust fire. “Rathbourne said something intriguing tonight that requires looking into.”

“My father is so full of bluster that I’ve learned to tune out much of what he says,” she bit out.

“Understandably so,” he said with a wry tip to his lips. “But, darling, I must travel to London.”

“You’re leaving?” Meredith’s chest seemed to cave in on itself. She should have known. For half a minute, she’d believed something could be salvaged of this disastrous union.

But that, apparently, was not to be.

She was a fool. Yet again.

*

The air in his chamber vanished with a sudden rush. Lucius’s eyes snapped to Meredith where devastation weighed five stone on her shoulders. “I’m not deserting you, love.”

Her spine stiffened to that of an iron rod. She lifted her stubborn little chin. “It’s not me I’m concerned for, you oaf. It’s the people I thought you were attempting to help.” She jerked to standing. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

“I told you, damn it, I do want to help. But I need to see our original betrothal agreements. I was only thirteen when the damn things were signed and I’ve never thought to see exactly what they’ve said before,” he said gruffly. “I’ll only be away for a day or two.”

“Oh.” The word was let go with a release of her breath. Her eyes narrowed. “What is it you expect to find?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But the fact that Rathbourne is bringing up the commitments my family made on my behalf has me vastly curious.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I never thought to check before, but Rathbourne’s words send a chill crawling up my neck.”

A solid couple of minutes crept by with Meredith’s head bowed as if studying her hands. Finally, she lifted her eyes, meeting his. “Two days?”

Inside, he softened, offering her a crooked smile. “You’ve managed quite nicely for three years without me. Surely, you can handle two days. Can’t you?” His teasing manner had an unexpected result.

“Of course.” She scowled. “I just didn’t have to do things with my father monitoring my every move.”

A distinct disadvantage. “It will limit your activities,” he admitted. He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “I shall be as quick as I can,” he promised her. He lay back against the settee. “I can’t believe what I’m about to suggest, but you might consider inviting your Mr. Ashcroft to dine.”

Again, her eyes narrowed on him, this time brimming with the fire he was learning gave her that glowing quality he was having great difficulty in resisting. “My—”

Lucius was tired of that persistent grievance and snagged her by the waist. Her squeal filled the chamber as she landed atop him, her legs flailing and splaying on either side of his hips.

The move didn’t help his back, but he didn’t care.

Framing her face in his hands, he brought her mouth to his and kissed that delectable plumpness he couldn’t quit fixating on.

A taste which exceeded that of The Copper Kettle’s delectable lemon tarts.

Sharp, tangy, sweet, irresistible.

His wife.

Groaning, Lucius pulled his lips from hers and set them along her neck, then licked his way up to a soft place beneath her ear where the scent of violets was stronger, more enticing.

Her fingers threaded his hair. Her lips grew more confident against his skin, leaving a blazing trail where they touched his forehead.

He lifted his face and caught her lips, searing himself with a memory to carry with him on the long trek to London.

Her lips parted and he swept his tongue inside the velvet softness that dove straight for his groin.

She tried to pull away, but he held her head steady, stroking her tongue until her fingers not only relaxed in his hair, but clenched, pulling him tighter, even as her tentative imitation increased in its boldness, chasing his tongue with hers.

A dueling dance that set his heart ablaze with longing.

He yanked his head away and dropped his lips to an irresistibly naked shoulder.

Nipped the skin with his teeth, then licked, then nipped again.

The fire in the hearth was nothing compared to the inferno raging within his own body.

His hands moved to her hips, and he found the edge of her gown.

Fingertips tingled on the silk of her stockings that encased smooth thighs, shapely knees, and trim ankles.

But he didn’t linger, quickly finding bare thighs and moaning with a desire so thick and heated, his restraint would likely give him heart failure.

“Lucius.”

His name on her lips sent the lust roaring through him. It pulsated the blood in his ears, until he couldn’t hear anything from the rush. Burned the tips of his fingers where they glided across her silken skin. He licked the expanse of her bosom, drawing a sharp gasp from her.

If he’d ever doubted her innocence, he didn’t now. Whatever Ashcroft’s role, the man wasn’t after his countess.