Page 12 of Captured by the Earl (The Secret Crusaders #2)

CHAPTER 12

L ondon Society News:

If only we could peer behind closed doors, into those carriages in the night, behind the supposedly empty corners. What might we uncover?

Alas, we cannot, yet do not despair. Even when no one is watching, we have other ways of discerning the truth.

Will we learn the truth about our mysterious rescuer? He hasn’t been seen again, yet he remains on many lips. Betting odds heavily favor a reappearance.

The question is when.

It was everything he hadn’t realized he desired.

Wanted.

Needed.

Emma would be his countess. When he had become certain of that fact, he did not know, but it was now clear. It was why he hadn’t let her escape. Why he hadn’t ended the betrothal.

She belonged to him.

That she now accepted that brought untold satisfaction, yet despite it all, he must now deny what they both wanted. He was no seducer of innocents, no unprincipled rake, no matter how tempting the offer. “There is nothing I desire more, yet we must wait a little longer. First thing in the morning I shall inquire about a–”

“Tonight.”

She didn’t let him explain how he would arrange a dignified yet hasty wedding, how he would inform both their families of the upcoming nuptials. He would sweep her to Scotland this very moment if he didn’t know how their families would react. Yet her father had still not returned, and the betrothal was not yet official.

That would change very, very soon.

“We cannot.” He peppered her with kisses. So responsive, so sensitive. “I am a gentleman.”

She nipped him. “And I am a woman.”

He allowed a slow grin. Yes, she was. But she was also a lady. He forced himself away from the luscious lips that still tasted of lemon and orange, a memory of the ices that seemed so long ago.

“I want this.” Her eyes shined in the dim light. “I want you.”

“And I want you.” He took her hands. They were so small, yet they did so much good. Just like her.

“This is the perfect time.” Her coy gaze nearly undid him. “Priscilla thinks I am going home, and my family thinks I’m at her home. No one would be any wiser if I stayed out tonight and returned in the morning.”

Oh. So. Tempting.

“But I would know, and you would know. If we wait–”

“We may never get another opportunity like this.”

They would have many opportunities once they were married. He would sequester her for an entire month, disregarding the entire world for his beautiful bride.

“Please.”

He softened at the whispered word. Indecision surfaced, over the chance to make her his, to take away any chance otherwise. Once they consummated their union, she would cease trying to break the arrangement. No matter what happened tonight, the ending of their story wouldn’t change. “Are you certain–”

“Yes!” She pressed forward, putting those luscious lips on his. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before taking control. Something raw and primal surged within him, instincts satisfied.

Tonight she would finally become his.

Time sprang forward. Peyton got the driver’s attention and redirected him to his home. After forever, they arrived, slinking out of the carriage like thieves, their coat lapels high and hats slung low as they scurried to the safety of his townhome. He ushered her in, then shut the door with a resounding click.

For just a moment, Emma did not move, as she gazed at the earl. How could she have ever thought him ordinary? Moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating chiseled angles and defined muscle, proof of his strength. Then suddenly, that strength was in motion.

He seized her.

He lifted her, holding her tight against his chest as he swept through the home like a pirate with his prize. The light was dim and sparse, yet he navigated the shadows as if impervious to the limits of mere mortals. With light’s absence, his touch affected her even more – the muscular arms under her torso, the taut chest pressed against her side. She was boiling with his heat, and they hadn’t even truly started.

They passed doorway after doorway, traveling down cavernous halls and past endless rooms, dripping with wealth. He reached a set of double doors, carved with the likeness of a roaring lion. He opened them and stepped inside.

Extraordinary. No other word could describe the stunning chamber. Rich paintings covered the walls and cathedral ceiling, lit by the moonlight shining through golden-threaded curtains. A massive marble fireplace stood in the corner, with priceless antiques gracing its wide mantle. Unlike the rest of the home, this room was fully furnished, with huge navy settees, curved cherry wood armoires and an intricately carved writing desk. Yet nothing was as impressive as the bed. Double in width and length of a typical bed, it stood far too high to ascend without help. Peyton strode directly to it and lowered her gently onto its confines.

She closed her eyes, licked her lips. Waited. And waited some more.

She opened her eyes to see Peyton staring at her. Passion lit his eyes, but it was measured by restraint, caution. “Are you absolutely certain?”

She did not waver. “More certain than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

Still he hesitated. “Desire is a powerful aphrodisiac. You may regret this.”

Boldness emblazed her. She reached out, touched a shoulder. Under her hands, muscles tightened and flexed. “I’d regret if we lost this opportunity. I know the reasons not to do this.” He opened his mouth, but she stopped him with a raised hand. “I also know the reasons to do this. And they are far greater.”

He held her gaze for a moment more. “Very well, then,” he murmured. “Are you ready?”

Oh. Yes.

It began with the pad of his finger, as he slowly traced downward, worshipping every curve, covering every angle. He moved with tantalizing deliberation, drawing designs on every needy inch like a master painter. He splayed his large hands across her belly, reaching almost all the way around her slender torso. Then he was moving again, sliding his hands up. He reached a breast.

He didn’t stop.

He swept the underside of her breast, petting with petal-soft waves, until he reached the peak. He caressed and kneaded, cupped and weighed. She gasped as he placed a kiss upon each straining peak, even as his fingers trailed lower, smoothing down hips, lower and lower and lower. She arched in pleasure as he cupped her backside, before moving to her thighs. Then he started back up, once more smoothing every inch of her skin, sparking sensation throughout her body.

He grasped a ribbon.

Magic. Tiny shivers raced through her as he loosened laces and untied bows, removing all the barriers protecting her. He reined tiny kisses on the skin he exposed, exploring her with his fingers, mouth and body. Her breath came freer yet swifter, as he methodically stripped her clothing. The world was chilled, but his powerful warmth set her aflame.

Finally, the silken obstructions were removed, and she lay bare naked, open, exposed . An altogether different type of heat crept up her body, awareness of the hunger cast by his molten eyes.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured.

She swallowed. “So are you.” She traced his still covered muscles. “It’s my turn. What are you hiding?”

His eyes flashed for a moment, before he dipped his head. “I shall show you.”

Watching him undress was torture.

Pure, sensual, satisfying torture. He shook off his coat, revealing a shirt taut against an expansive chest, hardness she had already felt. He undid the buttons one by one, ever-so-slowly revealing a torso defined by muscle. He removed the shirt.

Oh. My. Goodness.

She had felt his strength, yet nothing prepared her for the sight of the man uncovered. His body was like a warrior from long ago, chiseled into perfection. Peyton had hidden more than she ever imagined. Why?

He continued undressing. And then it was just him and her.

She couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. She had seen other athletic men, yet nothing matched his raw power. She licked dry lips and sucked in a breath of air.

Then he descended.

Her breath came in a series of moans and groans, as he touched sensitive areas with exploring fingers, hidden places, forbidden crevices. He took her mouth once more, filling her with his scent, even as his hands and body continued their own exploration. There were too many sensations, too much for her to handle. She ascended higher and higher and higher.

She shattered.

Yet he was not done. Far from it. He worked his magic again. And then again, opening possibilities she never knew existed. Yet it was more than physical compatibility, more than primal satisfaction. Her heart thumped in rhythm to her feelings, flooding her with emotions she could no longer deny. She cried out as they threatened to overwhelm, even as she reveled in their power. They were one, not just physically, but so far beyond that, sharing a connection that transcended reality. Her body felt like fireworks, ready to explode. His movements became more frantic, as he lost control.

Then… they soared.

He had never witnessed such beauty.

Emma lay nestled against the satin sheets, her naked skin still pink from the lovemaking that continued deep into the night. He thought he’d be satisfied having her once, yet somehow he craved her even more after their initial joining. Just like their first time, she had insisted on more.

He could not resist the temptation.

Finally, they had fallen asleep holding each other, embracing a connection just as poignant as their physical compatibility. Emotions he did not expect swept in – possessiveness, protectiveness, and something stronger, deeper.

He’d never let her go.

Now early morning sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the world in an ethereal glow. Even indoors, the world smelled fresh, the scent of gardenias sweetening the cool air. Outside, birds sang their melodic greetings, heralding the start of a new day, and something so much more meaningful for him. For her. For them.

She stirred softly, sighing contentedly as she opened her eyes.

He watched her carefully. Did she regret her actions? Would she anguish over the loss of her maidenhood? Yet only happiness, and satisfaction, shone in her eyes as she turned toward him, curling a slender leg over his. He grasped her thigh.

Mine.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

“Good morning, Philip.” She smiled sleepily.

A single change, with so much meaning. “You called me Philip.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head, slowly. “It is a good thing. A very good thing indeed.”

“It seems silly to do otherwise after what we just shared.” She blushed, and it was all he could do not to lean in and kiss her to see just how pink he could make her. But then they would remain in bed all day and he would never want to leave. For her sake, he had to return her home as soon as possible.

He couldn’t wait until he didn’t have to give her back at all.

“And what shall I call you?” he teased.

She gave an impish smile. “Why don’t you call me Grand, Exalted One?”

“Of course, Grand, Exalted One.” He kissed those plump lips. “I would add lovely, kind and giving. Sweet, clever and so very beautiful.”

Two red spots appeared on high cheekbones. “You’re just saying that.”

“Oh no.” He grazed the petal soft skin of her cheek. “I mean every word.”

She gazed at him with bottomless amber eyes, set alight by her flushed skin. “I believe you do,” she murmured. “If you shall be honest, so will I. You sir, are extremely attractive.”

“Attractive?” he teased. “You think I’m attractive?”

“You know I do.” Her skin was now as bright as a strawberry, and just as sweet. “But it’s more than that. You are thoughtful, intelligent and considerate. Even if you are an overbearing kidnapper.”

“I didn’t kidnap you last night,” he reminded her.

“No, you didn’t.” That impish look returned. “In fact, you could almost say I kidnapped you.”

“Such impertinence.” He lowered his voice in mock sternness. “How will I address such outrageous behavior?”

Her lips turned up mischievously. “I can think of several ways.”

“I wish we had time for that,” he all but growled. “But don’t worry. Soon we will have the freedom to do as we wish.”

She froze. For just a moment, she stared at him, too many emotions coursing through her expression to interpret. When she spoke, her words were low, deliberate. “What do you mean?”

The slightest wisp of unease surfaced. Surely she understood everything had changed. “When we marry, there will be no more rules, no more hiding.”

She paled slightly, shifting on the bed. “You said you didn’t believe in love matches.”

Her words ignited something inside of him, a craving for the forbidden. In the next second, memories flashed. A woman discovering the truth. A woman following him. A woman lost.

He would never endanger a woman again.

“I’m not talking of love, Emma,” he said softly.

She parted her lips, as storms overtook her sunshine. “Peyton?”

Peyton. It was telling. “We will have affection and caring and–”

“It is not enough.”

He reached for her, but she backed away, furiously gathering her clothes like some sort of pugilistic champion. “Thank you, but no, my lord. I do not wish for mere affection and caring. You know what I want.”

He reached for her, but once again she scooted out of his grasp. “I value you greatly.”

“You value me. How lovely. Did you spend hours formulating such poetic words? Do you want to tell me how eminently suitable I am?” She grabbed her shift.

“I care for you more than that.”

“Yet not enough.” She clutched the clothing tightly to her chest. “I want better. I deserve better. I do not accept this, my lord. This betrothal ends.”

Every part of him rebelled, as he grasped the invisible gauntlet and lifted an invisible sword. He could not lose her, would not lose her. This challenge was more daunting than his deadliest mission, yet he would be victorious.

Emma Sinclair would be his.