The Irish Devil (18 page)

William pulled his head back and yanked her skirts up, watching her with a feral stare that burned her veins. She shuddered. Slowly, deliberately, he thrust his leg between hers. The rough wool of his trousers rubbed her aching folds through her fine linen drawers, evoking more dew.

“Are you sorry for your behavior, little clerk?”

“No.” And indeed she was not. She’d speak a few pretty phrases again if he wished, just to reap this reward.

He rocked her hips against him, sensitizing her everywhere but not satisfying her. Heat lanced from her breasts to her womb. Her body craved rapture from this man, immediately.

Viola moaned, her eyelids drooping shut.

“Apologize,” he repeated. “Speak the words or you’ll get nothing further from me.”

“Mr. Donovan, please.” Viola knew that if he’d just shift his leg a bit, he’d rub her clit and she’d gain that tantalizing orgasm.

“Say it!”

“I regret…” She never uttered the final word,
nothing.
She’d do this again as soon as she had the chance.

His cock slammed into her, finding her through the slit in her drawers. He rode her hard, slamming her against the wall.

Viola sobbed with pleasure, uncaring of any listeners. Her channel gripped and released his cock, using the muscles he’d trained. And all the while, he watched her, sapphire eyes intent and glittering as he grunted with exertion. Their agonized breathing and the wet, solid slaps of their bodies were the only sounds in the small room.

Climax approached. She bit his shoulder hard, like a wildcat being covered by her mate. Her teeth tightened on his clothing’s wool and linen and clenched around his shoulder’s hard muscle.

He stiffened in surprise. Then he threw his head back and growled like a cougar as he climaxed. Answering rapture shook her body to the bone.

Afterwards, Viola hid her face against his shoulder while he cuddled her in his big chair.

Somehow he’d managed to don a condom without her knowledge. She wondered drowsily, in satisfaction’s lazy aftermath, what it would be like to feel his seed flooding her womb or to carry his child under her heart.

She closed her eyes at the thought and didn’t speak.

V
iola finished tying her bonnet strings and smiled at William. Much as she enjoyed being near William and his men, she also hated the continual reminders of just how big Donovan & Sons’ empire was. “Yes, I’m ready to leave, Mr. Donovan.”

She’d been very busy for all of the two days she’d worked with him. She hadn’t had a chance to slip off to the stables to see his famous stallion, Saladin. Mules worked very well for heavy freighting, but there was nothing like a really good horse. She’d enjoy seeing Saladin close enough to compare him to her grandfather’s prized Kentucky Thoroughbreds. If she had time alone with him, she might whisper a few words about her beloved Muffin, the mare she’d left behind in Cincinnati when she married.

Lost in thoughts of Muffin, it was several minutes before she realized they were walking up Main Street. Her hand tightened convulsively on William’s arm. He patted it and glanced down at her. “Relax, Mrs. Ross, and trust me.”

She gulped, then nodded. No matter what social penalties she encountered, she had to believe he’d protect her. She did hope they didn’t encounter any of the respectable ladies; masculine techniques might not work well against the darts thrown by those women.

Then she realized something else. “Mr. Donovan, we’re walking on the south side of the street. Shouldn’t we be on the north side?”

“Certainly not.” His voice was firm, as were his footsteps and the thud of Evans’s boots behind them.

“But I’m a…” she fumbled for words but couldn’t find one to express what she’d become. “I’m not a respectable woman,” she managed. “I should appear only on the north side.”

“No. You’re a woman who deserves every possible courtesy. You’ll stay on this side if I have to carry you.”

“Mr. Donovan, that would be disgraceful,” Viola exclaimed.

“Then don’t make me do it.”

Viola opened and closed her mouth several times without thinking of a counterargument. Finally she set her jaw and sailed up the street beside him, trying to pretend she was doing nothing remarkable.

A man walked out into the street ahead of them and waited there, squinting against the setting sun. Three other men followed him but remained on the boardwalk. Lennox and his three hoodlums from New York, the ones he’d sworn would keep Rio Piedras’s saloons quiet.

“Bloody hell,” muttered William. “Where are the lads, Evans?”

“A few steps back,” answered Evans as he stepped up on the other side of Viola. “What is the cur up to now?”

“Looks like we’ll find out.”

They stopped abreast of Lennox, facing him from the boardwalk, and a few paces away from his thugs. “Lennox,” William acknowledged.

“Donovan. Mrs. Ross.” He bowed to Viola, who nodded coldly. The atmosphere was as chilly as if they stood at Hudson Bay, rather than in the desert. “May I have the favor of a few words with you, Mrs. Ross?”

She hesitated, but surely there was nothing he could do to her in the middle of a public street. “One minute then, Mr. Lennox.”

She walked into Main Street, careful to stay out of Lennox’s reach. He was carrying neither sword stick or Colt. Still, she didn’t trust him. He could have a pocket gun or intend to snatch her.

Lennox produced a bouquet of red roses from behind his back and offered it to Viola. She shook her head and stepped back, wary of being lured closer. “What do you want, Mr. Lennox?”

His face flushed scarlet at her refusal, but his voice was civil, too much so, when he spoke. “Mrs. Ross, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I am prepared to overlook your dalliance with that peasant and give you the protection of my name.”

“As I have said before on numerous occasions, I will never marry you. Do you have anything else to discuss?”

“You little bitch, don’t you understand I’m offering to rescue you?” he hissed, his eyes sliding behind her. “You should be grateful I’ve condescended to offer the Lennox name to a slut like yourself.”

“Then keep it for someone else who’ll appreciate it as you do,” Viola snapped back at him. “I myself would rather be dead than your wife.”

“Very well then, go hide behind your Irish scum for now. You’ll learn to mind your manners when you’re my bride.”

Viola snorted. “When pigs fly. Good day, Mr. Lennox.” She marched back to the men waiting on the boardwalk. She didn’t consider his threats to be idle ones, but she’d never let that murderer know she was frightened of him.

“Mr. Donovan, shall we continue on our way?”

“Certainly, ma’am.”

She accepted William’s arm and he nodded to Lennox, still standing in the street holding the red roses. Lennox’s face flushed darker as his chin came up. He made no other move, but his three thugs stepped off the boardwalk, leaving it clear for Viola and her escort.

Viola was still shivering when they reached the compound, shaken by the venom and determination in Lennox’s voice. She’d hoped becoming a woman of ill repute would eliminate Lennox’s interest in her, given his obsessive family pride. Why on earth was he so set on marrying her?

William hugged her tight as they entered his bedroom. She clung to him, gratefully absorbing his warmth and strength. “You were very brave, sweetheart, facing him like that.”

“I wasn’t brave,” Viola denied. “He couldn’t harm me with you and all your men around.”

“He could have shot you with a hidden gun.”

“He wouldn’t do that, not when he wants to marry me,” she shrugged. “I was safe. And very, very glad you were there.” She burrowed closer.

He kissed the top of her head. “Your courage deserves a reward, sweetheart. You can tell me what you want after we eat.”

“Reward?”

“Reward. Make a request and I’ll honor it, as best I can. Now I’ll leave you with Sarah to prepare for dinner.”

Viola nodded, dumbfounded. She could name something she wanted and he’d do it. She considered the possibilities as she undressed and slipped into the hot bath, one of William’s more surprising quirks. The gossip at Mrs. Smith’s hadn’t mentioned his liking for a very clean companion.

What could she request? New clothes would be silly, since he already had provided so many. Food? No, she had more than enough now and Sarah did tend to hover over her. Obtaining sheet music would require days of travel.

Something enjoyable. Something carnal perhaps? Ask William Donovan to do something for her amorous pleasure? What a turnaround that would be. Still, it should be something enjoyable for both of them. Carnal delights were so much better when shared.

Warmth budded deep inside her, far from the hot water lapping at her skin. Viola purred and slid down, running ideas through her mind.

“Some cheese and crackers, Mrs. Ross? Or a glass of milk?”

Viola blinked and opened her eyes reluctantly. Sarah, with still more food. She was always offering Viola something to eat. “You’re very kind, Sarah, but I think I should wait until dinner.”

“Perhaps just a nibble. The smoked cheese is particularly delicious,” Sarah coaxed, offering a plate at eye level.

They did look tempting. “Well, just one.”

Sarah immediately fed one to Viola, looking as pleased as if her child was taking its first steps. Viola waved a second cracker away.

“Sarah, why are you always trying to feed me?”

Sarah hesitated for a moment before answering. “So you can gain weight.”

“You think I’m skinny.”

“Too thin to conceive a child, yes.”

“What?!” Viola all but erupted from the bath, splashing water across the plate and into the glass. When they finally settled down from cleaning up the mess, Viola was ensconced in a heavy silk robe in the bedroom and Sarah sat on the chair facing her.

“Sarah, please explain. Do you mean that if I was heavier, I could become pregnant?”

“Yes, Mrs. Ross. Women’s wisdom in China teaches that just as a duck must be well fed, so a woman must have curves if she is to produce babies. You are thin and very strong, like one of our gymnasts. I believe that if you weighed just a little more, you could conceive a child. Not much, Mrs. Ross, perhaps five or six pounds.”

Viola’s hand flew to her mouth. “Dear Lord, could this be true?”

“I have seen it work before, Mrs. Ross. Such a little change, not enough to disturb the shape Mr. Donovan delights in. But so much joy afterwards.”

A child. She could have a child, if she just gained a little weight. It seemed logical since she was thinner and stronger than almost any woman she knew. The only ones she’d met who were skinnier also had few children.

She, too, could be a woman with her child on her hip.

Viola wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth on the bed. Her eyes blurred and she choked back tears of joy. Sarah hugged her and Viola cried in earnest, while the other woman comforted her.

William studied Viola in the sitting room’s lamplight. She seemed calmer than before, more secure, if that was possible. Perhaps facing Lennox had settled her nerves, although she was a gallant little filly at any time.

Bloody hell, Lennox deserved death. But it was almost worth letting him live, just for the look on his face when Viola refused him. He’d be twice as dangerous now that she’d humiliated him so publicly. Still, there were men who’d travel thousands of miles to see Lennox look the fool.

“Have you thought about your reward, sweetheart?” William asked quietly, letting his voice flow into the lamplit room. To his delight, Viola immediately blushed and sat up straighter.

“Yes, I have, William.” She studied her hands before looking up at him again.

“What do you want?” he prompted, enjoying her anticipation. His blood began a slow drumbeat of interest.

She hesitated.

“Speak up, sweetheart, else you’ll lose your reward.”

His heart stopped at her wistful look. It’d be damned hard if he ever needed to discipline her, given the way his body responded to her slightest distress.

“I tried to think of something you’d enjoy,” she said softly.

Blessed Virgin, she’d thought of his pleasure when considering her treat. For that alone, he’d give her the stars. Still, he managed to keep his voice fairly stern.

“What is it?”

She gulped but spoke. “I enjoyed it yesterday when you held my wrists in your hands while we, we”—she blushed but continued bravely—“had carnal relations. I’d like you to do something like that, confine me in some fashion, the next time.”

William stared at her, his blood boiling through his veins and his cock. She met his gaze, hot color in her cheeks. “Can you tell me why you fancy that, sweetheart?”

“I’ve always dreamed of being the princess tied to a stake, until freed by a knight. I suppose this is as close as I can ever come to that.”

William smiled slowly. He didn’t care if he looked like a lion surveying a gazelle. Joseph, Mary, and all the saints, she truly wanted a bit of bondage. He’d give her that and more if she had a true partiality.

His cock was full and hard behind his fly, yet he’d never been calmer. He would give his faerie maiden a very sweet reward that evening.

Viola’s tongue swept nervously over her lips. What if he thought she was insane or a hussy for asking him this? She started to speak again, to take her words back, but stopped. She would be gone in three months, so how much did it truly matter what he thought of her desires? She had survived more than five years with Edward; three months with anyone else seemed no more than a passing fling.

Then William smiled and her heart skipped a beat. She knew that look after four days in his bed. It promised carnal delights that could make a woman’s head spin.

“But it’s such a simple reward. Don’t you want something more?” he purred. “Something sensual or exotic or lavish, perhaps?”

Viola swallowed hard and shook her head. How could she think when he sounded like that, all black velvet and lamplight? “Just that, if you please.”

“Very well then.” He rose to his feet and glided toward her. Viola shivered, her pulse thudding in her veins as her breasts firmed and ached under the gleaming black silk.

“Place your hands on the chair arms, sweetheart. Keep them there while I fetch a few items.”

“Yes, sir,” Viola whispered, and obeyed. The carved walnut lions’ heads seemed made to hold her fingers comfortably. She worried only slightly about how he’d tie her. Hal had practiced tying her in knots when they were children and he’d still planned to follow their father into the Navy. She’d learned very early how to escape from any bonds he put on her. Surely she could be certain that William, who was so protective, wouldn’t tie her any more tightly than Hal had.

She drummed her fingers and tried some different ways to position her feet. She was flushed and achy, and as fretful as if he were running his hands over her. She’d be more comfortable if she weren’t wearing one of his Chinese outfits. And of course, if her dew stopped heating and surging out of her.

William returned to the sitting room with a bevy of red silk scarves draped over a small wooden box.

Incredibly, a flash of fire burned from her breasts to her pussy at the sight. Viola gulped.