Texas Viscount (36 page)

      
“A sweet?” he echoed, not liking where this was going.

      
“One of the mints the maids lay on the pillow after they turn down the covers. But, of course, he didn't mean just that.”

      
“Go on,” Josh encouraged, touching her face gently, trying to keep the killing rage that burned inside him from showing. If Zarenko had touched her, he'd die hard... Texas hard.

      
“He started to...to press unwelcome advances on me. I imagine the bounder has taken advantage of dozens of poor, defenseless serving girls over the years,” she said darkly, warming to her story in spite of the fright Zarenko had given her. “He laughed when I tried to push him away, and then he pulled me onto the bed.” Josh stiffened and muttered a curse. Feeling his anger, she said quickly, “That's when I coshed him with the brass samovar on the tray beside the bed.”

      
“You what?” he asked, torn between relief and laughter.

      
“I hit him over the head with a very large, heavy teapot,” she replied tartly, rubbing her wrist. “And probably sprained my arm doing it. He fell backward against the pillows, unconscious. Dear heavens, I hope he was unconscious! Do you suppose I could've killed the wretch?” she asked as the thought suddenly occurred to her for the first time.

      
“His head's too hard,” Josh replied, thinking that when he finished with the bastard, Zarenko would be dead anyway, so it really did not matter. “Even if you had managed to kill him, you'd a done a patriotic thing for king and country. Just think of England,” he said, with a grin as he cupped her chin in his hand and gazed into her troubled blue eyes. “You are a wonder, but I don't want you taking any more chances, gussying up in disguises and getting into scrapes. Promise?”

      
When he eyed her uniform, Sabrina explained, “I was in such a rush to escape that I fled the hotel without my own clothing.”

      
“Where did you change—in the same place as before?” he asked. When she nodded, he dismissed her fears. “I'll send a servant over in the morning to return this and fetch your duds,” he said soothingly.

      
“Oh! I still have the key. I took it from the manager's office.”

      
“Aren't you just full of surprises.” His voice was amused now. “Imagine, a fine, educated lady like Miss Edgewater pinching keys and play-acting. I can't believe Zarenko'd mistake you for a maid.”

      
“I'll 'ave ye know me da's a preachin' man, 'e is. An’ I be a good girl, sor, I swears it,” she replied in a convincing cockney accent.

      
“I see that a talent for the stage really does run in your family. You're better than your cousin,” he said, chuckling in admiration.

      
“Eddy! Is he all right? Dear me, in all the excitement, I utterly forgot about him! Did he convince Zarenko to pay him for the false documents? Where is he?”

      
“He did just fine. Zarenko took the bait. Now we have to see if the trap works this time. Right now, Edmund's asleep at the other end of the hall with two footmen spelling each other to be sure he doesn't give us the slip until the dust settles.”

      
“You still don't trust him, do you?” she asked apprehensively.

      
“I trust you, darlin’. And that's all that matters. If you're so all-fired sure he's innocent, then I expect he is,” he said, trying to soothe her with his voice as he caressed her face. Then he gently wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and drew her closer as he lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss.

      
She knew she should not have drunk that whiskey. The thought flashed through her spinning head as the last of the bourbon settled in her belly. She knew the heat spreading through her body had less to do with the restorative power of spirits than with the nearness of Josh Cantrell's lips. Those magic lips that were brushing hers, the tongue rimming her mouth until she gave in and opened breathlessly.

      
Josh murmured her name as he deepened the kiss, cradling her head in his hand, pressing her gently against the soft, overstuffed back of the settee. His body settled over hers and the swell of her breasts brushed his bare chest. He reached down and let his fingers play with the sensitive nipples. Even through layers of clothing he could feel them beginning to harden into points. She tasted of whiskey, his prim lady who never “imbibed”—whiskey and that unutterable sweetness that belonged to her alone. He groaned when her tongue danced with his as she returned his kiss passionately.

      
Sabrina could feel his fingers as they deftly began to unfasten the buttons of her uniform, starting in the middle so he could reach her breasts. Once he had opened a wide enough space, he slid his hand inside and continued his maddening assault, pulling down the thin cover of her chemise and using his thumb to circle the aureoles until she felt the sweet ache, now so familiar. The world went away as she seized a fistful of his hair in each hand and arched into his kisses and caresses with fierce passion.

      
Her hands roamed over his shoulders, shoving his loose robe down, baring his sun-darkened skin and sinuously rippling muscles. She felt him shrug the robe off. Sabrina was so hungry to feel, to touch, to taste this man. Even if he betrayed her, even if he could never love her, never offer her anything more than this...this was enough. More than enough.

      
Josh laid her across the length of the settee as he slid from the side of it and knelt before her, all the while continuing to rain kisses over her face and down the slim column of her throat while his hands deftly worked on getting her out of the maid's costume. Fortunately, it buttoned down the front. Unfortunately, her corset was laced down the back. But he was nothing if not resourceful, even when confronted with a confounded contraption such as this. He slipped her chemise over her head, then laced his fingers in her heavy hair, gently lifting the pins so they scattered, allowing the tresses to fall in a cascade of bronze silk over her shoulders.

      
Just looking at her made him ache with desire. He lowered his mouth to her collarbone and nipped and licked at the delicate skin covering it until his tongue touched the furiously beating pulse point at the center. Then he moved lower to the swell of her breasts, nuzzling them as his hands gently brushed aside the lace cups covering the lower halves of them. He took one in his mouth and heard her gasp as he suckled it with firm insistence before using his teeth to lightly bite down on the distended nipples, first one, then the other.

      
She felt the jolt of fire shoot from her breasts, radiating outward until every inch of her body burned from it. A long, slow moan escaped her lips as the heat licked deep in her belly, pooling lower at the juncture of her thighs. As if knowing exactly what she felt, he slid his hand beneath her skirt and caressed her leg, moving unerringly to the ultimate destination. He cupped her mound, pressing the sheer fabric of her under drawers over the wetness where she ached to be filled. She squirmed, bowing her body up into his caress.

      
Taking advantage of her move, he pulled the drawers over the lush curve of her little buttocks and peeled them down her legs. “Now,” he whispered in a labored voice, “let’s get rid of the rest of your clothes. I need to see all of you, Sabbie.”

      
He began by removing her slippers, a well-worn black pair she'd chosen to match the maid's outfit. Sabrina had never felt a man's hands on her feet before. He squeezed her toes, then massaged her instep, his large palm fitting into the arch while his thumbs pressed on nerves she'd never imagined existed on the ball of her foot. She purred with pleasure as he moved from one foot to the other, repeating the process.

      
Her lashes fluttered closed, then opened again. In spite of the languid pleasure his touch elicited, she wanted to watch his naked body move while he made love to her in this slow, unexpected way. His eyes met hers as his hands began to roll down her garters and stockings, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, bending her knee and gliding along her calf. One much-mended cotton stocking flew to the floor. He worked on the second one.

      
She was burning up. Her hand reached out to him and he took it, bringing it to his lips, biting softly on the tips of her fingers. The rasp of his teeth over the pad of her thumb made her cry aloud. He leaned over her and silenced her with his mouth. His hands grew more urgent now, matching her own desperation as he began to unbutton the waistband of her petticoat. She sat forward, helping him by pulling off the long sleeves of the uniform and shoving the whole mass down so he could wrest it away.

      
As he threw the dress and petticoat on the floor his eyes swept over her. “You are the most beautiful woman ever born,” he whispered in awe.

      
Sabrina could not believe her own boldness, here in a fully lit room, allowing her gaze to move down his body while her fingertips glided from his chest, following the narrowing pattern of his body hair over his navel down to the jutting proof of his desire. He arched his hips and his staff prodded her thigh, scalding her with its heat. A sudden sense of power, generously fueled by whiskey, led her to wrap her hand around his sex.

      
Quickly his hand covered hers, moving it up and down, stroking as he bucked. Josh felt his control slipping and knew he had to do something quickly. He unpeeled her hand, murmuring, “You're too good at this, darlin’.”

      
She had enjoyed the feeling of velvet over steel, the heat of him in her hand, and felt bereft when he pulled free, but when he reached out to her, she went into his arms, melting as her bare flesh pressed tightly against his. They knelt on the carpet in front of the settee, kissing and caressing. She was oblivions to everything but the need to sink into his skin, to own, even for a little while, every inch of him, body and soul.

      
When he lifted her buttocks and urged her to wrap her legs around him, she complied, opening herself for his penetration. Perspiration beaded his face as he slowly glided into her heat. She placed her arms around his neck and clung to him, helpless in the bliss of joining, greedily tightening her knees at his sides to hold him fast. Her tongue darted out, licking the salty sweat from his face and neck, biting and nipping as he'd taught her while they rocked together in ageless rhythm.

      
Sabrina could feel the crest coming so swiftly she could do nothing but surrender to it, letting her body clench and unclench in hard, panting spasms as he stiffened and shuddered his own completion deep inside her. When they tumbled to the floor, still joined together, he cushioned her with his body, letting her lie on top of him as he looked up into her eyes. His hands were filled with her breasts, suspended like small, perfect pears, ripe for his tasting.

      
She watched as he pulled one to his raised head and began to suckle it. “Yes, yes,” she whispered softly, shaking her loose hair around him like a curtain. Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she arched into his caresses, letting the fire rekindle. “Oh, Josh, please…” For what was she pleading? That he make love to her again? She knew he would, for his body was already hardening inside her.

      
That he love her? She knew he would not...could not...but for this golden moment suspended in time, it did not matter. She loved him enough for both of them. The heat, the giddy rush of pleasure radiating through her body, overtook her and she cried out her love, unaware of what she was saying as she neared the pinnacle once more.

      
Josh could hear her soft voice, hear the hot, desperate longing that he, too, felt, the need to possess, to melt into one perfect whole with her, the hunger that seemed only to grow the more times he loved her. Loved her. Yes, he loved her—was in love with her, and in spite of his vow not to fall into the trap, he knew it was too late.

      
His Sabbie had already caught him.

      
After the shattering climax, they simply lay in each other's arms, panting and soaked with perspiration, murmuring indistinct love words, awash in contentment that transcended speech. Finally he untangled them and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. He felt the silk of her hair slide over his chest as he inhaled the faint scent of wildflowers and satiated female. Tonight he would get a good night's sleep after all, he thought with a peaceful sigh.

* * * *

      
Sabrina awakened feeling suddenly cool and looked across the bed. Josh had just slipped from beneath the covers and was stretching, arms raised over his head. She studied his long, lean body, broad shoulders and back, his tight buttocks and long legs pale in the dim morning light. His black hair was spiky from sleep...and other activities that had mussed it during the night. Just thinking of that brought new heat coursing through her. What a splendid sight her Texan was! She allowed herself the luxury of the dream in the half-wakefulness of the early hour.

      
Downstairs she could barely make out the chiming of a clock, striking six times. Why was he rising so early? To leave her before she could ask embarrassing questions or importune him about his intentions? What had she revealed during their long night of making love and sleeping together? Good heavens, did she talk in her sleep? The thought brought her into full wakefulness; but she feigned sleep as he moved silently across the floor, gathering up their scattered clothes, placing hers in a neat pile by her side of the bed.