“You know, for years I tried to hate you, but it appears I’m not capable of it when it comes to you.” He took her by the shoulders and gently, but firmly, turned her to face him.
Mara slowly opened her eyes and felt her breath leave her in a shudder as Roarke’s mystical gaze held her captive.
“From the moment I stumbled upon you in the servant’s staircase at Eversleigh Hall, you stumbled into my heart. Time and distance, nor the thought of death, have diminished that in the slightest, so do you truly think anything else could?”
She gave a sigh and tried one more time. “But you don’t understand…”
He shook his head, his perfect lips turning up at the corners. “I don’t have to.” As he pulled her closer to him, her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. His hot breath fanned her ear as he nuzzled on the delicate lobe. “Just trust that I’m strong enough to face whatever fate throws at us.” Again, he bestowed that mesmerizing grin on her. “It’s time you started believing in us.”
Mara bit her lip. She wanted so badly to do as he asked, but even after that carefully constructed speech, she was still filled with doubt. He must have decided that the time for words were over, for the control Roarke was keeping in check broke away like the evening tide before a storm. She felt the power between them, and so, without another word, he crushed her mouth beneath his. A moan of pure pleasure escaped Mara’s throat, and she knew that only he was the one who could make her passions spiral out of control, and only he would ever know her so intimately, both body and soul.
Roarke backed her up against the table, and in one fluid motion, set her on top. Her breath was coming rapidly, and she felt dizzy, even more so as he began to trail a path of light, nibbling kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. He made short work of the ties of her nightdress, exposing the top swells of her breasts, before he revealed them completely. Without a moment’s hesitation, he tenderly laved each pert, rosy nipple, while his other hand began to pull up her hemline. She was reclined back on her arms like some sort of sacrificial offering, and for a moment, he broke contact in order to drink his fill. She should have felt ashamed, but nothing else had ever felt so…right.
And when he smiled…
Her heart thumped against her rib cage as he gently pushed her knees apart. He continued to kiss and caress her, whispering words of desire as he did so, before finally dropping to his knees and taking what she offered so sweetly.
Mara nearly came off the table at the first light touch of his wicked tongue. It was just so personal and possessive that she squirmed in equal parts embarrassment and sheer delight. But as the passion began to build to a fevered pitch, she forgot any sort of inhibitions, to get lost in the rapture of the moment.
She cried out in ecstasy when it all came to a blinding crest, and before the wave had even subsided completely, Roarke had her legs wrapped around his waist as he swiftly and fully impaled her. It was magical, and Mara found herself at the point of another earth shattering flash. With a husky sound that was half guttural and half groan, Roarke gave one last, mindless thrust before all was still.
Damp with perspiration, their breathing heavy and sated, Roarke slowly lowered her to her feet. Her legs were wobbly, but he never once let her go. He held her as tightly as she clung to him with her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against the strong wall of his chest and sighed at the rhythm of his heart. She felt a tear escape her lid, but it wasn’t one of sadness, but relief. At that instant, she felt that all was right with the world. She refused to think of tomorrow and the reticence that would surely follow after this night. For now, she would simply enjoy the bliss that she’d found with the man who held her heart.
The star lit sky was still in place when Roarke silently took his leave of Mara’s warm side. A glance at the clock on the mantle in her bedchamber showed that it wasn’t yet five in the morning. Mara gave a contented sigh in her sleep, and he couldn’t help but brush back a strand of her honey-gold hair that had fallen over her delicate and perfect cheek. He yearned to stay and kiss her awake, as he’d done twice during the night, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to remain and finish what he’d started this time without running the risk of scaring the servants half to death.
While it was true he was still conflicted with the unanswered questions of the past, he could only hope in time Mara might finally confide in him about all those wasted years. Surely, after last night, she would start to let down her guard.
Granted, he could probably browbeat the truth out of Lyra, and he might have done so if it weren’t for her own trials at the moment, but he wasn’t such a scoundrel that he would add to his sister’s woes.
But all was not lost. There was still one person he had yet to question.
Roarke quickly hailed down a hackney and made it home just as the sun was starting to lighten the sky to a dusky gray. Not wishing to disturb anyone unnecessarily, he decided to take the servant’s entrance, for he knew it would be unlocked. Unfortunately, he nearly scared the wits out of his scullery maid when he walked in.
“M’lord!” The young cockney girl quickly stepped back from the fireplace where she had been cleaning the ash from the grate and bobbed a hasty curtsy.
“Good morning, Eva,” Roarke nodded as he breezed past her gaping expression. He grimaced inwardly, for no doubt everyone in the house would know by the top of the hour that he hadn’t spent the night in, along with exactly what time he’d returned.
He took the stairs two at a time and was walking past his mother’s room when the door abruptly opened.
“Where have you been?” she demanded upon seeing him.
Roarke was rather surprised to see his mother was already awake, for she normally kept later town hours when she was in residence. But what stunned him more was her nearly hostile manner in which she addressed him. “I wasn’t aware I had to inform you of my comings and goings,” he returned evenly.
She thoroughly ignored him as if he hadn’t even said a word. “I need to speak with you at once. It is a matter of the utmost urgency. I shall expect you in my sitting room within a half hour.” With that, she shut the door in his face.
He stared at the space she had just occupied for a moment before he gave a thoughtful frown and continued on to his chamber. He had never known his mother to get so frazzled about anything, so whatever she had to say was obviously rather important. Roarke rang for his valet and ordered a bath be prepared. After he performed the rest of his morning routine with swift precision, the viscount was walking back down the hall exactly thirty minutes later.
“There you are, Eversleigh,” his mother nearly scolded, although he had made it to her suite of rooms by the appointed time.
He didn’t reply, but merely lifted a brow and took a seat across from her near the fireplace. Tea and a tray of breakfast items had already been ordered and were sitting on a small table between them. Roarke generously helped himself to the food, finding that after a night of pleasures, he was rather famished. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of Mara and all the wonderful delights that had transpired the night before. He was rather looking forward to more of the same as soon as it could be arranged, although at the moment, he decided not to delay the inevitable confrontation.
“So what has you so up in arms this early in the day?” he drawled.
His mother scowled. “I will not tolerate impertinence from my own offspring, no matter their age or title,” she reprimanded, “And if you would have seen fit to make it to your own bed last night, you would have known the cause of my distress.”
Roarke barely restrained a weary sigh. His mother always had a flare for the dramatic, but since she seemed genuinely distressed, he kept his tone level. “I’m here now, and you have my undivided attention.”
This seemed to placate her, but only slightly as she took a seat across from him. With her back ramrod straight, she spoke directly. “I have heard the most alarming rumors, and I hope to have them contradicted.” After a meaningful pause, she asked, “First of all, what is this I hear about Lord Weston and why did you not see fit to tell me of his rather shady demise?”
