In the Devil's Bed (Sins of the Duke Book 1) (24 page)

Regan’s eyes twinkled and she stroked her fingertips over his lips. “That does sound most intriguing.”

Jack bit back a groan and he went hard. No. Harder. Nibbling the tips of her fingers, Jack hurried to his room at the far end of the hall. He stopped in front of the door. Both his hands were full and the latch was solid. “Oh, hell.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Allow me, husband.”

Regan reached out and turned the latch.

Jack felt a possessive growl tug at the back of his throat. She was
his
wife. And he never wanted her to forget it. The panel swung open and Jack strode through then kicked it shut. He set Regan down on her feet, then locked the door. “Nothing is going to disturb me from ruining you during the next twenty-four hours.”

“What about food?” she teased.

Tossing his great coat to the floor in front of the crackling fire, Jack took her hand, and led her before the hearth. The heat seeped into his bones. But at that moment, he wanted a different heat. Her heat. Slowly, he ran his hands along her shoulders, then down to the place where the folds of her cloak met. “Are you hungry?”

Flicking the folds open, Regan’s white skin stood out against the dark wool. The contrast of black and white shook him with eroticism.

She nodded, her breasts rising up and down.

“Hungry for this?” He caressed her breasts with his hands and circled his thumbs over her nipples. She leaned into him. Jack raked his hands up to her collar bones and tugged at the bow holding her cloak to her body. The thin strings of silk slipped loose and the fabric pooled at her feet.

Firelight flickered over her pale body, shadowing the curves of her lush figure. The soft curve of her stomach descended into the curls at the apex of her legs, hiding her wet heat.

Jack looked down her legs. His lips tilted in a smile. Her black carriage slippers were still on her feet.

Regan’s fingers curled at her sides and she looked at him from lowered lashes. A soft sheen of red washed her skin. Jack brushed his fingertips over her abdomen.

“Bloody beautiful.” The harshness of his cockney accent assaulted his ears, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t keep control of himself with her. He needed to be himself with her.

“You are beautiful, too,” she said, as her fingers, feather light, traced the line of his muscles up towards his neck.

Jack hissed as she touched the abrasions on his shoulder and lower neck. As she caressed his scars, it was like the cooling touch of balm. Helping to forget the pain that had caused them.

Jack grasped her hands and slid them over his shoulders, until her forearms rested by his neck. Her body stretched out, causing her breasts to tighten. Jack ducked his head down and kissed her, taking her mouth with the intensity of a man who knew he could die in the next minute.

He sucked her lower lip then pressed feather light kisses to her jaw. Slowly, he licked the line of her neck. Regan moaned as he kissed his way between her breasts. A smile of satisfaction tilted his lips and Jack glanced up into her wide, dazed eyes as he licked and nipped her abdomen.

Slowly, Jack lowered himself to his knees. Regan grabbed on to his shoulders, leaning forward, and her long, red hair fell over his back, teasing his skin in tantalizing caresses. But he gently caressed her hips with his hands, keeping her standing as he knelt before her.

He wanted to brand her with his body. To make her his and no one else’s. She was consuming him and he wanted to consume her with the same torturous desire. Jack ran his hands over her hips. He placed a kiss in the soft curls between her legs.

“J-ack?” the question in her voice surrounded him.

He tilted his face up, catching her blue eyes with his. “If you wish me to stop, Oi will.”

She looked down at him, her fingers pressing into his shoulders. A flush of warmth stole up her cheeks and her lips parted. “I don’t wish you to stop.”

Satisfaction shot through him as he brushed his thumbs along the line of her hips and thighs. She wanted him. She had married
him
.

Regan teetered and grabbed hold of his back. “I want. . .“

Her thighs tensed as he placed his hands between them and gently pushed them apart. Jack smiled, then tilted her hips towards his face and he ran his tongue along her hot, wet center.

“Oh, G-god,” Regan gasped.

A husky laugh rumbled from his throat. If she only knew what just the taste of her did to him. As if he didn’t want to yank her onto the floor and drive into her until all she could think about was him over her, in her, and around her. Jack licked, kissed, and circled his lips and tongue over and in her.

Her hands slid through his hair, pressing his head closer to her. Regan’s legs shook. But relentlessly, he held her to his mouth and circled his tongue.

He pressed his hands into her bottom, keeping her firmly open to him. And with each touch of his tongue on her soft flesh, he wanted to hear her scream his name.

Her body tensed against his and Jack stroked his hand along the outside of her thigh, wanting her to be as wild as he felt. She dug her hands into his hair and screamed, “Jack!”

And he kept circling his tongue, until she shuddered from release. Her legs collapsed and Jack caught her in his arms, holding her close, their skin gently brushing against each other as he held her.

He laid her on his cloak and slowly lowered himself on top of her. Regan grasped his back with her arms, pressing herself towards him.

He needed her. Now. More than anything. Jack lowered his mouth to hers and at the moment his lips touched hers, he eased into her body, not wanting to hurt her.

A moan tore from her throat. Jack planted his forearms on either side of her head. Each stroke inside her taunted him with wanting more. Regan locked her legs around his waist. As Jack increased each thrust, she arched up off the floor.

Regan tightened her hold on him, caressing his back with her soft hands. Just when he was sure he couldn’t feel more pleasure, her muscles tightened around him and, for a moment, he saw white.

His entire body tensed and he groaned. “Regan!”

And all he could see was her. Only her as he came inside her. As he relaxed, she wrapped her arms around him. And strangely, he felt safe in her embrace. As if somehow she was protecting
him
.

Jack rolled onto his back, pulling her into the curve of his arm. If he could, he would have nothing separating them. Not even their bodies. But for now, nothing could be closer to heaven than this.

***

J
ack ran his fingers over Regan’s arm, savoring the sensation of her body pressed trustingly against his. Her hand rested just above his heart and her head brushed his chin as she snuggled closer in her sleep.

How in the hell had he come to deserve her? Regan filled his heart in a way he’d never known, but a corner of it was still possessed. Owned by demons. Owned by his past.

It seemed like every day he was slipping further and further away from what he’d sworn to do.

A light knock rapped against the door.

Slowly, Jack slipped himself from under Regan and tucked the folds of his coat around her. Jack rose to his feet and quickly dressed.

He padded over and slid out into the hall.

His butler stood solemnly. “Mr. O’Malley, sir.”

Jack nodded, suddenly tired. Once, he’d anticipated these early morning meetings. Each one signified the noose tightening about Chiles’ neck. But now? He hurried down the stairs and stopped in the empty hall. Taking a slow breath, he strode into his office.

O’Malley stood by the fire, his big hand wrapped about the long, black poker. He jabbed at the fire sending sparks flitting up into the chimney.

At the sound of footsteps, the Irishman turned. His lips tilted in a faded smile. “Did ye have a grand night, then?”

Jack fought back a surge of boyish happiness at the memory of the previous night. “You’re not here to discuss my marriage bed.”

“That I’m not.” O’Malley brushed the dust from his hands. “Our good friend, Mr. Garret, has disappeared.”

Jack blinked. “What?”

“Mmm.” O’Malley’s dark brows rose. “’Twould seem the secretary has had the good sense to bugger off or he’s been chucked into the Thames.”

Letting out a controlled breath, Jack headed over to his desk. The wide, wood surface shone in the morning light and he leaned against it. “Is that all?” he demanded.

O’Malley’s face curled into a grimace. “No.”

“And?”

“The papers Garret promised are still in the duke’s home office. And not only that, the information might not be enough.”

“Not enough?” Jack repeated.

“Ye recall that Garret intimated others had tried to bring down the duke?” O’Malley smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his usually good-humored gaze. “I did some searching of my own, do ye see. Four other cases have been brought up against Chiles on similar charges with similar evidence.”

Jack’s stomach tightened into a fist. “Go on.”

“Brushed under the rug the cases were. Each case was ruled upon by three other dukes.”

Jack sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He’d thought he could break the system. He’d been so damned certain he could pull the old bastard down. “An old boys club?”

O’Malley shook his head. “It’s something more than that.”

“More than what?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not done digging.”

Jack nodded, trying not to let a wave of nausea tease his throat. He’d been working too long for it to end like this. The duke would not win just because a few friends were covering up his brutality.

Jack pushed away from his desk and he leveled O’Malley with a hard stare. “You keep digging until that man’s grave is dug.”

“Indeed I will and a pleasure it’ll be, too.” O’Malley headed towards the door then he stopped and turned slowly. “And what about Mrs. Hazard. What is it exactly that ye did there?”

“The right thing,” replied Jack evenly.

O’Malley cocked his head to the left. Skepticism darkened his blue eyes. “Ye’re fine then, connecting yerself with
his
blood.”

Jack folded his arms over his chest, digging his fingers into his biceps. “She’s not her grandfather.”

O’Malley smiled. “Now, isn’t that the truth? Still,” O’Malley looked Jack in the eyes, a hardness in his stare. “’Twould seem ye added another element of danger to her life.”

Regan had nothing to do with the duke or the past.

“I’m protecting her,” Jack said firmly.

O’Malley nodded. “Certainly, sir. Certainly, but ah. . .” He strode forward, his steps soft on the brightly woven rug. “Does she know, then? What ye intend? Or for her sake, will ye allow Chiles to go free?”

Jack ground his teeth together. “You know I will not.”

“Then what, exactly, do ye intend?”

“She will not be hurt.”

“But a lie, Jack. It can hurt a lass far worse than a slap. If she finds out ye’ve used her and lied to her, she may never trust ye again.”

Jack paused. Could he trust Regan to tell her his plans? His plans to destroy her grandfather? And what if she never forgave him? What if she left him? Jack swallowed and thrust the thoughts from his mind.

“For now, I will not tell her,” he whispered.

O’Malley hesitated, pity softening his features. “Jack, perhaps. . . Perhaps we should not go through with this. She may never understand, and I—“

Jack shook his head. He’d lived with revenge so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without it. All his life, he’d been tortured by the power of the duke. And Dev had died.

“I cannot fail in this.” Jack stared at the man who had been his closest ally in his quest.

O’Malley stared back and he said simply, “If ye’re wanting the papers, they’re in Chiles’ office. Third floor, the west side. They may not be enough, but it might be worth the try.”

“Thank you.”

“Ye’ve always been my captain. Ye always will.” And with that, O’Malley left the office.

Jack stood alone and slowly let his arms drop to his sides. He looked up, his eyes fixing on the pale ceiling.

Damnation.

In the past, such disheartening news would have enraged him, yet committed him even more intensely to his cause. It was the task of a lifetime, the destruction of an all-powerful man.

But he felt nothing. Nothing but a premonition that his time with Regan was short. And that soon, very soon, this bit of heaven he’d found would end.

Chapter 27

Regan stretched. Every muscle in her body felt worked and perfect. As her fingers caressed the covers, her body shifted on soft down. A smile tilted her lips. He must have moved her to the bed.

And she hadn’t even woken. Little wonder with the excitement of the night.

She opened her eyes and blinked at the cream-colored ceiling. Sunlight, tinged with the glow of dawn, spilled through the room, honeying the walnut-colored walls and paintings. Jack sat close beside her on the bed. Fully clothed. Shadows darkened his eyes, but his lips curled in a smile as he stared down at her.

She propped herself up with the palms of her hands.

The soft wool blanket tumbled down her body. Her
naked
body. A blush stole up her cheeks, warming her skin. Last night. Good God, last night she’d been another woman. The woman she had wanted to be. The one she wanted be to be right now.

“Hello,” she said.

He curled his fingers around a strand of her hair. “Good morning.” Slowly, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake,” he murmured against her mouth.

It was the first time in her life she had woken up next to someone. And she liked the feeling. Very much. She tilted her head back and glanced into in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Because I’ve never see you sleep before. Do you realize that you are as beautiful in sleep as you are awake?”

Regan’s heart thudded in her chest and, in that moment, she felt as beautiful as he claimed. She leaned back onto her elbows. “Come here, if you please.”

His brows tilted up. “I do please.”

Jack pushed her onto her back and covered her mouth with his.