The Devil's Thief, page 16
“No,” Alasdair told him, facing him squarely across the desk. “No one will come looking for me. It isn’t her way. She didn’t understand that what I did was wrong.”
At that Hil stopped his tapping and narrowed his gaze on Alasdair. “What do you mean?”
Sighing deeply, Alasdair rubbed his jaw some more. Talking actually hurt a bit. “She is the innocent I first believed her to be, Hil. She doesn’t understand that what I did in anger, what I did against her protestations, was a violation, no matter how she felt, no matter what pleasure she took from it in spite of her pleas.”
“I never believed you could be a bastard, Sharp, until right now.”
Hil’s softly spoken words cut like a knife. But Alasdair deserved that, too. “Perhaps it is your forgiveness I should seek after all,” he said quietly.
“That is for her to give, not I. And if she is so inclined, then I can do naught but follow suit.” He was gripping the edge of the desk tightly. “But hear this, Sharp. You had best make this right. If you do not, then I will. And you will rue the day. I was under no obligation to reveal her identity to you the other night. When I made that choice, I did not give her to you lightly. I entrusted her to you, and you have not only violated her trust, but mine. I will not trust you again. I will not call you friend until this has been satisfactorily concluded. Do you understand?”
Alasdair nodded once. He rose and was almost out the door when Hil got in one parting shot.
“I do judge you by your actions, Sharp. And I judge you to be a fool.”
It didn’t have quite the impact Hil was hoping for, however. Alasdair spoke without turning around. “Of course I am a fool, Hil. I am a man in love. Is that not the same thing?”
He left the room before Hil could answer.
Chapter Fourteen
Julianna awoke to the sound of a thump and a muffled curse. She was startled, but not frightened.
“Who the hell puts a bloody chair in front of their window?” Alasdair whispered harshly.
Julianna leaned over so that she could see him. “Lots of people,” she answered calmly. “It is a common occurrence, I believe.”
With a jerk of his head, Alasdair looked over at her in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were awake.”
She sat up and tidied the blankets over her lap. “I wasn’t,” she replied as she leaned over and lit the candle on the small table beside her bed. She adjusted her pillow behind her and reclined against it. “Is this the part where I say, ‘Unless you’d care to be shot this evening, I wouldn’t move if I were you’?”
To her utter relief Alasdair laughed. “Yes, I believe that was my line.”
“Well, I don’t sleep with a gun in hand, so I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for, Stop, thief!” she cried out in a theatrical whisper.
Alasdair laughed again, and Julianna had never heard anything so wonderful. He was dressed all in black. Boots, breeches, shirt, loosely tied cravat; his blond curls were even covered with a black kerchief that was tied in the back. “You look like a brigand.”
He smiled wolfishly. “Do I? I tried to copy what you were wearing the night we met.” He winced. “Well, that night.” He set the chair back up. “You do realize that you do not have a conveniently placed balcony, don’t you?” He turned and walked toward the bed. “I had to climb a tree and edge along the brick ledge.”
Julianna nodded with a serious expression. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to discuss that with father. It is a concern. How on earth am I to sneak about at night otherwise?”
“You are not,” Alasdair said very seriously, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. “I do not want you sneaking anywhere.”
“Hmm,” Julianna said, looking down as she picked at the blanket. “It didn’t turn out too badly the last time, did it?”
Alasdair’s hand covered hers, stilling the restless movement of her fingers. “I don’t know. Did it?” His voice was quiet and hesitant. He was hurting.
Julianna turned her hand so she could hold his. “No, it didn’t. Not for me.” She looked up at him then.
“Nor for me,” he responded in a husky voice.
“Alasdair, what are you doing here?” As far as conciliatory gestures went, breaking into her bedroom in the same fashion she had into his was quite romantic of him. She hoped romance was what he was striving for.
“I came to apologize.” He took a breath to say more, but Julianna cut him off.
“Accepted.”
He closed his mouth and his lips quirked in a wry smile. “Yes, well, I had rehearsed a whole speech. It was quite moving, actually.”
Julianna scooted closer and walked her fingers up his arm. “I’m moved. Truly I am.” She stopped when she got to the large muscle of his upper arm. He leaned closer, resting his weight on that arm, and she felt the muscle flex and bunch. She wrapped her hand around as much of his arm as she could, the sheer strength and maleness of him overwhelming her. Looking up, she saw a bruise on his jaw. She ran a finger over it gently. “What happened?”
Alasdair moved his face away from her hand. “Hil took exception to what happened between us today.”
Julianna felt a blush stain her cheeks. “You told him?” He nodded stiffly. “Why?”
“Because I was a bastard to you and I wanted someone to tell me so.”
Julianna digested that. “Why were you so angry with me?” she whispered, watching as she moved her hand back to his arm, afraid of what she might see on his face.
He was silent for long enough to make Julianna uncomfortable. She was about to pull her hand away when he finally answered.
“The why doesn’t matter. At least not right now. Let me make it up to you and then we’ll talk.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me. I know I should be outraged, but I liked it,” she whispered. She looked up at Alasdair, feeling guilty and ashamed and aroused all at once as she thought about their encounter behind the shed. “At least, part of me did. I liked that you wanted me so much you couldn’t help yourself.”
“Dammit, Julianna,” he said vehemently, gently shaking her. “I should have been able to help myself, don’t you see? I am supposed to be a gentleman, and you are a lady. I should be the one protecting you, not attacking you.” He let go and tried to run his fingers through his hair but the kerchief was in the way. Cursing again, he yanked the cloth off his head, freeing his bright, beautiful hair.
Julianna cupped his cheeks in her hands. “But, Alasdair, I don’t need protecting. Especially not from you.” She ran her thumb across his full bottom lip. “You didn’t hurt me. You pleasured me. Even as mad as you were, you didn’t hurt me, and I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I know,” Julianna told him with a bittersweet smile. “I know.” She ran her hands through that glorious hair of his and he groaned as if in pain. The next thing Julianna knew, she was lying beneath him, the welcome weight of him pressing her into the mattress, her hands pinned next to her head. When she looked up into Alasdair’s conflicted face, she could see his desire and his vulnerability.
“Julianna,” was all he said, and yet there was a wealth of thought and feeling contained in that one word. She tugged her hands free easily and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close then kissing his mouth tenderly.
“Love me, Alasdair, as you did that first night. When I was nothing but a silly, not-very-good thief, and you were the not-so-innocent victim of my fumbling attempt at crime.”
She felt the smile on his lips as he kissed her. She opened her lips, inviting him in. In this, at least, they could be completely honest with each other.
The kiss was tender at first, but their need was too urgent, their desire too strong. Tenderness became desperation in the swipe of a tongue, a moan of relief rising in Julianna’s throat at the taste and feel of him. He tore his mouth away just as she was about to deepen the kiss.
“I’ve changed my mind. We should talk first,” he said in a voice roughened by desire.
Julianna wanted none of that. She knew she had to tell him she’d lost the pearl for good, that she could not get it back for him, and she dreaded it. She ripped at his loose cravat. “Why? When talk may change our actions, but our actions will not change what we have to say?”
Alasdair shook his head, his brows knit in confusion as his hands got in her way. “I have no idea what you just said. This is why we should talk first. Why does my brain cease to function the minute I touch you?”
Julianna paused. “You, too? How very odd.” She yanked his cravat from around his neck. “Does this happen with every woman you’re with?” she asked right before she leaned in and sucked his neck.
He jerked away from her and tore his shirt over his head. He threw it away recklessly. “You’re right. Love first, talk later.”
“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently, “after.”
He tore the blankets off her. “What is that?” he exclaimed.
Julianna looked down with a sheepish expression. “My nightdress.” It was white linen, with long sleeves and a high, buttoned neck.
Alasdair growled low in his throat and she shivered. She loved when he did that. “Remove it,” he ordered.
She lost only two buttons in her haste to divest herself of the now-hated garment. When she was naked, she reached for him but he stopped her.
“No. Just lay down.” She frowned at him, wanting to touch him, but he shook his head. “Not yet. It occurs to me that I didn’t handle our previous encounters very well. I have been a poor guide in the art of love, I’m afraid.” He had a woeful expression on his face. “Just lay down and let me make that up to you. Please?”
His voice was rough and low, and she found she couldn’t deny him. And he had said please, after all. She lay back slowly, unsure of what to do with her arms. He reached down and helped her straighten her legs, but she couldn’t close them because he was between them.
“Put your arms up,” he told her, “like this.” He raised his bent arms until his hands were beside his ears.
Julianna imitated him, although her hands rested on the bed, not in the air. She felt completely exposed, absolutely vulnerable, and irresistibly sensual. Alasdair obviously agreed.
“Perfect,” he told her with satisfaction. “You are perfect.” And for the first time in her life she felt that way.
* * *
Alasdair felt as if he were in a dream. He’d expected recriminations. Some weeping. Abject misery and pitiful groveling on his part. Penance and denial and punishment. Instead he’d received absolution and admittance to heaven. He thought he ought to rush before she changed her mind, but she was a feast for a sinner, and he was starving for her. She laid herself out for him, complete trust on her face and her desire radiating in the air between them. She wanted him however she could have him. Why? He still wasn’t sure. But he believed now that it was no act—this was honest passion between them.
He started at her feet, just because he could, and because it was his version of groveling at them. He wanted to taste every inch of her. When his mouth touched the arch of her foot, she gasped.
“Oh my God,” she breathed as her back arched on the bed. “It never occurred to me that that would feel good.”
He just laughed and paid homage to all ten of her delectable toes. By the time he was done she was panting.
“Alasdair, please,” she begged.
“What?” he asked languidly right before licking a path from her ankle to her knee. She moaned.
“I want more.” She sounded so disgruntled he laughed.
“You’re not enjoying it?”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “Good God, I’m nearly insensible. Shouldn’t I be harder to please?” He nibbled on the back of her knee and she groaned. “But I just can’t manage to be harder,” she complained pitifully.
Alasdair had to forcefully hold back his laughter. “I can,” he told her with a grin.
She raised her head and glared at him. “Prove it.”
Oh, she was clever. “No.”
Her head arched back and she cursed as he bit her thigh. “I hope you are not planning to pass anything by on your way up here,” she warned menacingly.
“You are becoming a very managing female, Miss Harte,” he admonished her. “Let me assure you that I have things well in hand.” He glided his hand up her leg onto her stomach, and down between her thighs. She was soft and slick and he had to force himself to go slowly.
She gasped. “I have always been a managing female. That, sir, is not a new development. And it is not your ability to handle things I question,” she said breathlessly. “But rather exactly how you plan to do so.”
He licked the crease between her leg and hip. Damn, she smelled good. Better than anything he’d ever smelled before. Lavender, woman, and arousal all mixed up together into a lusty perfume.
“I am becoming more and more confident of your abilities,” she groaned as she thrust her hips up.
He chuckled. “Yes, I rather thought you might be.”
When he finally tasted her, he realized he hadn’t been teasing only her but himself, too. This was right. Why hadn’t he seen that before? Over the last week he’d been blinded by jealousy and anger, but this was his Juliet, this lusty, laughing girl in his arms. The woman he’d become so enamored of in the dark of night, the one he’d searched all of London for. What was a bloody pearl compared to this?
She opened her legs wide, exposing every secret she had to him. She spread her fingers through his hair and gripped his head and held him to her. And he loved it. He loved how sensuous she was, how much she craved the things he did to her.
“Alasdair,” she moaned, but he heard more than just his name. He heard her desire, her surrender, her pleasure.
He poured his heart and soul into the deep kisses he was lavishing on her. God, she tasted decadent. He drank in her spicy essence with her muffled cries. He lost himself in her; lost track of time and all the things that still remained unsaid between them. All he knew was her. Everything was Julianna.
“Oh, Alasdair,” she sobbed, clutching him with legs and hands, her whole body shaking with pleasure.
He needed her desperately. He had to have her, now, tomorrow, the day after, next week, next year. He couldn’t imagine not being this desperate for her, ever. Hadn’t he been since that first night?
When her tremors slowed, he slid up her body, his mouth tasting her stomach and breasts. He settled between her legs, torturing himself with the heat of her against his still-clothed lower half. Her expression was dazed, but beneath it he saw tenderness and passion, for him. He realized in that moment that he craved those emotions from her as much as he craved her body.
* * *
Alasdair pressed against her, so hot and thick and delicious, even through his trousers—everything she’d been craving and so much more. This was the man who had shown her what sexual intimacy was, the man who had made her laugh and cry out in the depths of passion. The angry, disillusioned Alasdair was gone and her Alasdair was back. How she wished she could have him always. The thought triggered a memory of her conversation with her stepmother. If she was with child, she could have him. But she didn’t want him like that.
“We can’t,” she gasped.
He rolled off her and covered his eyes with his arm. “I know,” he groaned. “And it’s sheer torture.” He turned his head and moved his arm to look at her and she saw how much he wanted her. “But you’re right, we can’t. For a multitude of reasons. Although, I certainly wouldn’t regret having to make apologies to you again tomorrow.”
Julianna crawled over on top of him and he groaned. She pressed her breasts into his firm chest, the hair there tickling her skin in an erotic caress. “Don’t be an idiot. No apologies were necessary.” She bit his earlobe. He grunted and palmed the cheeks of her bottom, squeezing them tight and pressing his hard length against her stomach. They both groaned in frustration, and then she pulled away with a sigh. “But we can’t risk it again, Alasdair. I could be with child, and if I’m not already, we don’t need to keep acting foolishly.” They were some of the hardest words she’d ever spoken because, God, she wanted him in the worst way. She pressed her forehead to his. “I want you, Alasdair, make no mistake. And I am sorry for starting us down this path when we can’t reach the desired destination.”
He shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. That’s not why I came here tonight.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, his hands tucked safely against her sides. “I don’t ever again want to force you to do anything, Juli.”
“I’ve wanted to do everything we’ve ever done together,” she told him in exasperation. “Perhaps I may have wanted to do it a bit differently, but I wanted it.” She paused thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps not the fighting. I could have done without that.”
He hugged her tightly and buried his lips against her neck as he rolled them over. Resting his weight on his forearms, he rose over her. She felt cherished, cocooned in desire and his tender care. “I don’t want to fight with you, either. This is much better, I think.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and wiggled her lower body until one of his legs slid between hers. Then she thrust up against his muscled thigh. “Mmm, I think so, too.”
He laughed, but it was a bit shaky. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. Could you perhaps help me with that? Just a little?”
She held him tightly, pressing her sex against his thigh. She sought his mouth and he gave it to her, inviting her voracious kiss. She wrapped her tongue around his and sucked gently and Alasdair moaned. The sensation caused a shiver to run across her shoulders. She’d never felt so decadent before. She moaned back and broke the kiss. “I want you, Alasdair, I do. I can’t settle for less.”
“Well you’ll have to tonight,” he told her, regret lacing his words. He rolled away unexpectedly and stood next to the bed. He found his shirt on the floor and he began to dress rather frantically.
