He looked at her solemnly. “To be honest, I am in need of a bit of fortification myself.”
Alaric took Marlene to his private sitting room. It was the one place he could think undisturbed, because none of the servants dared to step foot inside his private domain. There were certain boundaries that even they wouldn’t cross at Rosedale Heights. But that was why he paid them handsomely for their loyalty.
He splashed some brandy in a glass and took it over to where she sat huddled on the settee. It was a scene so reminiscent of the night they had gotten soaked coming in from the orangery that his chest tightened slightly. The only difference now was that they were fully clothed. More was the pity.
He watched as she downed the liquid in the glass numbly. He waited until some of the color came back into her cheeks before he downed his own drink. Something told him they would need fortitude for what was to come. He set the empty tumblers on a nearby side table.
Alaric prayed that, after today, she would realize that he wasn’t the enemy. That title belonged to Hector alone. It continued to perplex him why Hector didn’t come forth, though perhaps it was for his own amusement that he played these games at their expense. Yet he wasn’t convinced it was that simple. He was a strong believer in fate, and right now, he was intertwined in some sort of warped triangle with Miss St. Clair and his long-time nemesis.
He saw a myriad of emotions flitting across her face, and it wounded him to know that he couldn’t calm her fears.
“I think, in light of the recent circumstances, it would be best if I were to keep a close eye over you.”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes pools of uncertainty. “We live in the same house. Isn’t that good enough?”
He had to remove his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He might be a witch, but he was still a man in the presence of a beautiful woman. “I could ensure you were protected fully if you were to move into the adjoining chamber to mine.”
She blinked. “Do you mean the mistress’ chamber?” She snorted. “Isn’t that rather like courting a different sort of danger?”
“I admit it would be difficult to stay away from you, knowing how close you were, but on my honor as a gentleman, I vow to restrain myself.” He offered a teasing glance. “And yes, witches can still be gentlemen.”
She turned her attention toward the fire, her focus distant. “And yet, you still don’t believe it’s best that I leave? After today, I’m not sure it’s Hector you must fear, but me, especially if you believe that I am being pursued by the ultimate demonic force from hell. You could bring Lady Erica back home and be safe, while my presence here would be diminished, along with the threat of an impending apocalypse.”
He couldn’t hear any more. He knelt down in front of her and cupped her face in his hands. “You are no threat. Do you understand? The only thing you are guilty of is being a victim in a war that is not of your making.” He searched her face, hoping that she might read the sincerity in his words. “And making me yearn to forget even that.”
He told himself not to allow desire to further cloud his judgement, but it was entirely too late for that. His gaze fell to her mouth and her lips parted slightly. He then returned to those dark, fathomless eyes, and realized that there was one way he could make her forget everything, if only temporarily. The vow he’d just made about being a gentleman disintegrated the moment he leaned forward and kissed her gently.
Shock kept her immobile, but it didn’t take long before she responded in kind. Their lips moved slowly, exquisitely, across the span of time and space, lost to this whirlwind passion that steadily continued to rise between them. It grew and expanded until she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to him. Alaric groaned as he splayed his hands along her back and slid one upward until it disappeared into the fullness of her hair. The other, he allowed to travel downward, along her thigh and down to the hem of her skirts.
He urged her lips apart and as his tongue slipped inside her mouth to mimic the act of lovemaking in their kiss, his hand slid up the silky smoothness of her skin. His fingers brushed the apex of her legs and her hips jerked at the intimate contact. When his finger found the bud hidden within her folds and began to stroke gently, she shuddered in his arms.
He didn’t know how a soft kiss meant to ease her troubled spirits had gotten so out of control, but neither of them seemed inclined to stop the sweet torture.
Her breath started to come in short pants, and he knew she was getting close to her peak. He yearned to lay her down and take his time pleasuring her, but he was afraid to move, for fear that he wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing her face flush with ecstasy. He closed his eyes momentarily as her nails slid up the back of his neck, gently clawing him as her hand dove into his hair.
As he continued to stroke her with expert precision, he lowered his head and ran his tongue along the tops of her breasts. He yearned to bare her fully to his gaze, but he knew this would have to be enough to satisfy him.
He slid a finger into her passage and nearly spilled himself at the wet heat of her core. He ground his teeth and watched in exquisite torture as her back arched. Her eyes closed as she learned her head back against the settee and moaned into the expanse, her body shuddering with her release.
Afterward, he slid his hand free, but continued to hold her close, gently rubbing her hair as she settled back to earth. She clutched his waistcoat, burying her face in his neck. “I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen,” she whispered.
He placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted it gently, so that she was forced to look at him. “Don’t harbor regret for something that feels good.” His focus fell to her mouth. His cock was still throbbing in his breeches, but he pushed aside his own desire for later. He would replay this scene in his mind as he found his release. “You were magnificent.”
Her gaze was uncertain, full of shame. “But you don’t understand. I’m not the innocent you think I am.”
She moved away from him and stood. He allowed her to go and moved to sit on the settee as he waited for her to speak. She walked over to the fire and hugged herself, as if not only trying to find the wherewithal to tell him the truth, but also to find a way to keep out the dreaded cold that seemed to come from within.
“My parents had barely been cold in their graves when I set out to ruin myself.” She focused on a spot near her feet rather than look at him directly. “I think that I started to realize how short life could be. I had nearly perished when I was a child, and now two of the most important people in my life were gone. I felt as though my entire world was crumbling beneath my feet.” Her brow furrowed. “I was determined to lose my virginity at any cost. So that’s what I did.”
He saw her visibly swallow. “I snuck into a masquerade ball with a friend who was recently widowed herself and was eager to find the excitement she had been missing in her union to an older man.” She blew out a heavy breath. “I didn’t know his name. I just spied someone in the crowd and decided that he would suit because I liked his mask.” She snorted. “Not a very noble cause, I can assure you, but it worked, because I went home that night well and truly ruined.”
Alaric’s chest ached to see her struggling with the decisions she’d made, a struggle between rebellion and morality. He rose and approached her. He took her into his arms and spoke soothingly. “You did nothing wrong save dare to explore your passions when you were grieving. In my eyes, you are still innocent.”
She lifted her head and looked at him with an almost pleading glance. “But I enjoyed it. Surely that proves my wicked nature.”
“I would be fortunate to employ that wicked nature in my bedchamber,” he murmured. “Sex is a natural part of the human existence. If you didn’t enjoy it, then I would say that was the true offense.”
Her dark eyes were wide, luminous. “You don’t think ill of me for a moment of weakness?”
