Authors: Amanda Quick
“My watch has stopped,” he said. “The energy in these gardens is so strong that it often affects delicate mechanisms like clocks. I don’t suppose you have any idea of how long I was asleep?”
“Sorry, no. A couple of hours, perhaps.” She splashed her feet in
the water and leaned back on her hands, smiling a mysterious smile. “I have noticed that the currents from the waters tend to lull one into a very relaxed state of mind. Time doesn’t seem to mean very much in here.”
“No.” He looked down the stone passage toward the entrance of the baths. The energy gate was still pitch-black. There was no sign of light on the far side. “It can’t be more than another few hours until dawn.”
“No.” She raised her eyes from his chest to his face and studied him as though he were some rare and intriguing curiosity.
His fingers did not seem to be working properly so he stopped trying to refasten his shirt.
“Evangeline, we must talk,” he said.
“Now?” she asked with a wistful expression.
“It will be dawn soon.”
She splashed her feet a little in the water. “Yes, you have already mentioned the time.” She raised one hand in a restless gesture and lifted her hair away from the back of her neck. “It is rather warm in here, isn’t it?”
He was riveted by the delicate, vulnerable curve of her neck. “The pools give off a great deal of heat,” he said. His voice sounded a little thick, even to his own ears.
“And energy,” she said, smiling as if at some secret joke.
“Yes.” He put the coat down on the stone floor and walked slowly toward the pool where she sat. “Energy, too.”
“It is quite exhilarating. And sparkly. Like champagne, although I admit I have not had an opportunity to drink a great deal of champagne. It’s quite expensive. Generally speaking, paid companions stick to sherry. Although I have met one or two who have gone on to gin. Most professional companions endure a great deal of boredom, you see.”
“But not you.”
“No, not me. I am rarely bored. I enjoy my work for the agency and when I am alone I have my writing. It is an endless source of fascination. But I will admit that there are times when I have felt very much alone.”
He was torn between frustration and amusement. “I think that at the moment you are feeling a little tipsy as well, are you not?”
She giggled. “Yes, as a matter of fact. But I assure you, my head is quite clear.”
“Is it?”
“Oh, yes, in fact I don’t believe that I have ever been able to perceive things so clearly in my life. I feel free, Lucas, and it is because of you.”
“I set you free?”
“You did, indeed.”
“How did I do that?”
She tipped her head to one side. “It’s complicated. I really do not want to go into it just now.”
“How long have you been dangling your feet in the waters of that pool?”
“I have no idea.” She kicked her feet again. “My turn to ask you a question. How many women have you brought here to this bathhouse, Mr. Sebastian?”
He smiled. She was flirting with him and he was enjoying it. A dangerous pastime, he thought. But what the hell, the die had been cast. Evangeline would soon be his. She knew that as surely as he did. That was why she was practicing her feminine wiles on him—why she said she felt free. The exhilarating aspect of the whole thing was that he, too, felt as if he had been released from his own self-imposed prison.
They were made for each other, he thought. Perhaps it was, indeed, fortune or fate or karma that had led them both to this moment. He did not believe in any of those supernatural forces, and what had
transpired tonight out in the gardens was not the method he had intended to employ to win her. But what was done, was done. Their future was sealed by the events of the night.
“I have never invited any other lady into the Night Gardens, let alone this bathhouse,” he said. He hunkered down on his heels at the side of the pool. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“Good.” She giggled. “I adore secrets.”
“The reason I never invited anyone to join me in this pool is because I have never encountered a woman I believed could enjoy the experience with me, a lady of talent.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is clear from the old records that the pool waters have the most pronounced effect upon people like us, Evangeline.”
“Those with paranormal abilities?”
“The stronger the talent, the more powerful the effect.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” She leaned over and trailed her fingers through the water. “If the properties of the spring are paranormal in nature, it stands to reason that those who possess strong psychical abilities will be more affected than those who do not simply because they will be able to sense the energy more acutely.”
He smiled, savoring the anticipation. “That was always my uncle’s theory.”
Evangeline gave him another tantalizing smile and looked at him from beneath her lashes. “If your uncle was correct, then a romantic liaison conducted in this chamber would most probably be experienced in a very intense manner by two people who possessed strong psychical abilities.”
This was, indeed, the best of all possible worlds, Lucas concluded. Then again, perhaps he had not recovered from the paranormal fever after all. Maybe he was hallucinating. Whatever the case, his future
wife was attempting to seduce him. If this was a dream, he could only hope that he would never awaken.
“That would be the obvious assumption,” he said. “Shall I tell you another secret?”
“Yes, please.”
“My uncle tested that assumption with his housekeeper, Mrs. Buckley. You see, she had a measure of talent, too.”
“What?” Evangeline’s eyes widened. Then she gave a lilting laugh. “Never say that your uncle and Mrs. Buckley were lovers.”
“For years. It was, of course, a family secret. But I suspect they spent a number of nights in this place.”
“Well, well, well.” Evangeline leaned forward and swished her hand through the water again. “But what about you, sir? I cannot believe that you never found a lady you wanted to bring to this place.”
He reached out and brushed a wave of silken hair off her shoulder. “You are the first.”
“Excellent.” Evangeline smiled somewhat smugly and winked. “I am delighted to hear that.”
She splashed some water onto the side of the pool. The droplets sparkled like liquid diamonds. They dampened his boots and the cuffs of his trousers.
“You are bathing in dangerous waters, Miss Ames,” he warned softly. “Quite literally.”
“I thought that we were on a first-name basis, Lucas.”
He smiled. “Thank you for reminding me, Evangeline.”
“I believe that life was meant to be experienced with all the senses.”
“Do you?”
“Most definitely.”
She hoisted the skirts of the wrapper and nightgown and stood up on one of the submerged benches. The water came midway up to her
elegantly curved calves. She put out a hand and regarded him with an expectant air.
He straightened slowly and took her hand. The instant her fingers touched his a euphoric flash of knowing swept through him. It was, he decided, as if all the forces of the universe had conspired to make this night, this moment, happen.
Evangeline stepped daintily out of the pool, released his hand and shook out her clothing. The folds of her nightclothes fell about her wet ankles. He wondered if she realized that the sash of her wrapper had come undone.
“I think I know the real reason why you have never brought a lover with you to this place,” she said.
“Is that so?” He traced the curve of her jaw with one finger. “What is the real reason?”
“In a word, control.” Smiling, she stepped away from him and pirouetted in a small circle. She stopped and faced him once more. “You do not like the notion of losing your own self-control, and you are far too noble to take advantage of a lady who might be made somewhat inebriated from the atmosphere of this place.”
He moved closer until the bottom of her damp wrapper and gown brushed the tops of his boots. He caught her chin on the edge of his hand.
“You are right in part,” he said. “Self-control is important to me because my ability to control and focus my talent depends on it. But you give me far too much credit when it comes to my chivalrous nature.”
“Ha. I stand by my verdict, sir. You would never take advantage of a lady.”
He smiled slowly. “Watch me.”
He took her mouth in a slow, deliberately provocative manner. He told himself that he intended to teach her a small lesson, one she would
remember in the morning when the effects of the pool had worn off. He was in control, he thought. He could keep matters in hand.
But he had not made allowances for the electrifying effects her response might have on him.
“Lucas,”
she whispered against his mouth. “Dear heaven, Lucas.”
She wound her arms tightly around his neck and leaned into him, kissing him back with a feminine passion and energy that set fire to his senses. He had been partially aroused ever since this reckless scene had begun, but he had been fully in command of himself. It was clear now that he had miscalculated badly. He was straining against his trousers and starting to sweat again. But this fever was of an altogether different kind, he thought.
He crushed her close, deepening the kiss. Evangeline’s fingers moved up through his hair. A euphoric energy swept through him. He was not just more physically aroused than he had ever been, he felt stronger, more powerful, more
aware
on every level. It was as if Evangeline’s feminine fire were somehow resonating with the currents of his own life force, enhancing his senses.
She shivered in his arms and tightened her hold on him. Her mouth opened beneath his and for the first time in his life, he comprehended the astonishing metaphysical power of passion. Until he had met Evangeline he had been convinced that he knew all there was to know of desire. He controlled his lusts, they did not control him.
But Evangeline changed everything. With her he could be free.
He raised his head, opened his eyes and saw that hers were closed. Her head was tipped back, exposing the curve of her throat. He abandoned the seductive nectar that he had been drinking from her lips, wrapped his hands around the nape of her neck and kissed the delicate spot just behind one ear. Her nails dug into his shoulders. She made a soft, hungry little sound.
“I would walk through any circle of hell to have you tonight,” he said against her throat.
“Yes, I know, but there is no need.” She opened her eyes. “I am here and this is not hell. It is heaven. I vow, I cannot think about anything else except this sensation. It is so thrilling. I have always wondered how one could lose oneself utterly to passion. Now I know.”
The provocative challenge in her eyes made his blood sing. He laughed. The sound was hoarse and husky, more an aching groan of need.
“As it happens, I have just had a similar revelation,” he said.
Her scent was intoxicating, exhilarating, compelling. He moved his palms slowly downward until the soft weight of her breasts rested on the edge of his hands. He used the pads of his thumbs to stroke her tight little nipples through the thin fabric of the wrapper and nightgown.
Evangeline flattened her palms against his chest and kissed his shoulder. He lowered his hands to her waist and slid them beneath the edges of the chintz wrapper. With a tiny sigh, she tangled her fingers in the curling hair that covered his chest.
It was too much. He could bear no more of the sweet torment.
He scooped her up in his arms, moved to the nearest stone bench and sat down with her draped across his thighs. Her wrapper fell away. He bent his head to kiss her and moved one hand beneath the hem of the nightgown. He slid his palm up the inside of her leg, pausing to savor the incredible softness of her skin.
Evangeline clung to his mouth for a moment and then, with a tiny, breathless moan, she tore free and buried her face against his shoulder. He could feel the sensual tension, both physical and metaphysical, that held her in thrall. His senses were ablaze with the need to give her pleasure. He wanted to watch her face when she found her release.
He moved his hand higher. When he reached the secret little
hot spring at the juncture of her thighs he found her wet and ready. The exotic perfume of her aroused body alone was enough to make him climax. It was all he could do to maintain the last vestige of his control.
He stroked the small bud at the top of her sex. Evangeline closed her eyes very tightly. Her fingers crushed the fabric of his shirt.
“Lucas,” she gasped. “I can’t stand it anymore. Something is happening to me.”
“Let it happen, my sweet. Let go. Fly for me.”
He eased a finger into her passage. She was tight and slick. He could feel the small muscles at the entrance, gripping him snugly even as they resisted the intrusion. He hooked his finger gently upward on the inside of her channel and at the same time continued to excite her delicate clitoris.
He knew when her climax was upon her even before she did. One moment she was tight and rigid, clenching again and again around his finger, and in the next her release shivered through her in small, convulsive waves.
Her muffled cry, laced with shock, astonishment and wonder, echoed in the stone chamber.
“Lucas.”
The knowledge that it was his name on her lips when she came was almost as satisfying as taking her completely. Almost.
He opened the front of his trousers.
She was just starting to relax into the aftermath of her climax when he eased himself cautiously into her tight core. She gasped and stiffened in surprise.
“Lucas.” She blinked a few times, confused and alarmed. “Something is wrong.”
“Do you still want me, love?”
“Yes, certainly, but I’m not sure—”
“Raise your senses again,” he instructed.
Energy flared in the atmosphere. Her eyes heated once more. His own aura flashed higher in response.
He wrapped one hand around the back of her head, brought her mouth down to his and thrust quickly past the delicate barrier.