Clayton Harcourt rapped on the door to Justin’s house, then waited impatiently for the butler to let him in.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Harcourt.” Knowles dragged open the heavy wooden door with his usual lack of enthusiasm. “I’m terribly sorry. I’m afraid Lord Greville isn’t in at the moment. You may leave him a message if you like.”
Clay frowned. He had business to discuss and he didn’t have all that much time. “Yes, I’d appreciate that. I have some paperwork I’d like him to look at. I’ll leave it in his study, if I may.” He stepped into the entry, which was dark and always a little dreary, his flat leather satchel tucked under one arm. He removed his kidskin gloves, tossed them into his beaver hat, and handed them to the butler, who led him down the hall to Justin’s study.
Knowles swung open the door, then came up short. “Excuse me, Miss Summers. I didn’t realize you were still in here working. Mr. Harcourt has some papers for Lord Greville. He wishes to pen him a message.”
“Of course. Please come in.” She stood up behind the desk, a vision in navy blue and white, her pale blond hair swept up as she usually wore it. Smiling, she turned the crystal pen-and-ink set on the top of the desk in his direction.
“Thank you. I won’t be a minute.” She was even prettier than he remembered, so blond and fair, all lightness and sunshine to Justin’s brooding darkness. Clay could see in an instant why his friend was so drawn to her.
And yet it worried him. He trusted very few women. He had known too many who would cut off a man’s cods just to watch him squirm.
Knowles returned to his duties and Clay turned his attention to Ariel. Perhaps a word with her would set his mind to rest.
“I was hoping Lord Greville would be home,” he said, easing into the conversation. “I stumbled upon a business proposition I thought he might find interesting. I rarely involve myself in financial matters, but this little deal looked so sweet, I couldn’t resist.”
“I’m afraid he won’t be home until late. And on the morrow he plans to leave for Cadamon. Apparently, he’ll be gone for several weeks.” A fact she didn’t look the least bit happy about.
“As I understand it, you accompanied him the last time he went.”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
Her chin inched up. “He intended to make me his mistress, as I believe you are aware.”
He smothered a hint of amusement. “I gather that’s changed.”
“Yes.” But she didn’t look completely pleased about that, either.
He opened his satchel and pulled out the business proposal he had brought, set the papers on top of a stack on the corner of the desk.
“He would have treated you well, you know. Justin is nothing at all like his father. He doesn’t make a habit of keeping women. In fact, he has never taken a mistress before—which is not to say he has been living the life of a monk.”
“I’m sure he hasn’t. In fact, I imagine there are any number of women who would gratefully accept the position he has offered.”
“If he wanted them, yes. What I’m telling you is that you mean more to him than simply a casual affair.”
Ariel made no reply. She wasn’t making this easy.
“I don’t know how well you’ve come to know him. Perhaps by now you realize he isn’t the coldhearted man he appears.”
Interest flickered in the delicate lines of her face. “Will you tell me about him?”
Clay smiled. “What exactly would you like to know?”
“He seems so terribly remote. Has there never been anyone he was close to, anyone who cared about him? I know his mother abandoned him and his father was never around. It’s obvious his sister cares only about herself. He mentioned a grandmother once, but he never seems to see her, and young Thomas stays mostly in the country.”
“I care about him,” Clay said softly.
Ariel’s blue eyes swung to his face, beautiful eyes, guileless eyes … or at least so they appeared. “So do I,” she said.
Clay mulled that over, wondering if she were sincere, wondering if she were wise enough to see through Justin’s hard, cynical exterior to the man he was inside. “From what I understand, you don’t have anyone who cares about you, either. I suppose that gives the two of you something in common.”
Her mouth curved into a soft, wistful smile. “In a way. But unlike Justin, I was loved very dearly as a child. I had the most wonderful mother a daughter could ever have and two very dear grandparents. It was only after they died and I was left in the care of my father that I suffered any sort of mistreatment. I understand how important love is. I don’t think Justin has even the faintest idea.”
“Perhaps you could teach him.”
“Teach him?”
“I should think a person would have to know how it feels to be loved before he could give love in return. But surely that is something a man could learn.”
“Perhaps it is. Perhaps if I were brave enough, I might try. Unfortunately, the risk is simply too great. As soon as my debt is repaid, I’m leaving. Lord Greville is paying me a ridiculously high wage, but I can hardly argue with that.” She smiled impishly. “Besides, I am probably worth it.”
Clay laughed, liking her confidence, the sense of self-worth that was so opposite Justin’s own dark opinion of himself.
“Once I’ve completed my obligation, Justin has agreed to secure some sort of position for me. I trust his judgment in that regard, and I believe I’ll be happy in whatever job he finds me.”
“I imagine you will be … at least for a while.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, hoping he looked nonchalant. “You’re young and extremely attractive. It’s only natural that someday you’ll wish to marry.”
“I’m a woman, Mr. Harcourt, no different from the rest. Someday I’d like very much to have a family of my own.”
Clay just nodded. On the surface, she seemed everything that Justin had said she was—forthright and determined, sweetly sincere. “I wish you well, then, Miss Summers. Ask Justin to take a look at the proposal I left on his desk, will you? Tell him I’d like him to stop by my place before he leaves the city. We’ll need to act swiftly if we’re going to sew up this deal.”
“I’ll write him a note,” Ariel said. “In case he leaves before I see him in the morning.”
“Thank you.” Clay made polite farewells, retrieved his hat and gloves, then left the house, his mind on the conversation he’d just had. When he’d spoken to Justin about Ariel at the club, he’d been more than half-convinced she was the conniving little saucebox she was at fourteen.
After their conversation, he was beginning to think he might be mistaken. If he was and Justin wanted her as badly as it appeared he did, perhaps marriage wasn’t such a bad solution.
Clay tucked his hat beneath his arm and pulled on his kidskin gloves. Surely being married wouldn’t be all that bad. A lot of people did it. In truth, he wouldn’t mind having a wife and children of his own someday. Of course, he was hardly a one-woman man, but that was scarcely important—neither were most of his friends. It would probably be good for Justin—a couple of kids running around the house, a wife who could give him the affection he never had as a boy. Maybe she could help him dissolve that blasted irritating calm he wore like a heavy iron cloak.
Then again, perhaps the girl was nothing at all the innocent she appeared. Perhaps she was now simply far more sophisticated at achieving her goals than she had been at fourteen. He hoped Justin was wise enough to discern the truth.
And damned glad he wasn’t in his friend’s position.
* * *
Ariel stared up at the faded blue velvet canopy above her four-poster bed. Outside the window, a storm had set in, obscuring the moon and stars. A fierce wind howled and lightning cracked in great yellow spikes against an ominous black sky. It was well past midnight, yet she couldn’t fall asleep.
She kept thinking about Justin, about what had happened between them in his study. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the heat of his long, hard body, the hot, sweet sensations that speared like lightning through her blood. Just thinking about it made her tremble as she had in his arms.
The experience had been intoxicating, so heady she hadn’t wanted it to end. Neither had Justin, she knew. In truth, she was amazed he had stopped when he did. Why did he? she wondered. But in her heart she knew.
For years he had been reading her letters. He knew her innermost thoughts and dreams, knew her better, perhaps, than anyone else in the world. He wanted to make love to her, but he knew that in doing so he would be crushing her dreams.
Ariel sighed. Justin pretended to be hard and uncaring. She no longer believed that was so. Working so closely with him, she was privy to the changes he was making in Cadamon—to increase profits, he had said. Undoubtedly a successful operation would be the end result, yet she found it hard to believe the lovely little four-room stone cottages he was constructing for the workers were being done strictly for money.
And there was the child, little Thomas Townsend, Justin’s nephew. It was obvious the boy deeply loved his uncle, and the feeling was definitely returned. Justin was wildly protective of the boy. If he thought his sister would agree, Ariel believed Justin would keep the child there with him in London. But giving up her child would hardly be good for Barbara’s reputation, and to the Countess of Haywood one’s status among the ton was all-important. So the boy remained with his mother and Justin paid the bills, telling himself it was only a matter of financial practicality.
And there was the bargain Ariel had made. With the earl’s generosity, she had received the education that she had so desperately wanted. Instead of collecting his debt, Justin had released her from her pledge and, if she had allowed it, would have continued seeing to her welfare.
“I don’t know how well you’ve come to know him,” Clayton Harcourt had said. “Perhaps by now you realize he isn’t the coldhearted man he appears.”
Justin wasn’t the heartless villain she had first believed.
Just desperately, achingly lonely.
A gust of wind rattled the shutters outside the window, drawing her attention. Rain fell in great gray sheets against the rough stone walls of the mansion. Justin was out there in the storm because of her, because he couldn’t trust what might happen if he stayed in the house. He was out there, and she was worried about him.
Worried about him and a great deal more. Ariel fought down a painful swell of emotion, for the first time allowing herself to admit the truth.
Dear God, I’m in love with him.
The previously unimaginable thought brought a thick lump to her throat. How had it happened? When had it happened? Was it a certain moment in time, a special minute, a certain day, or did it overtake her little by little, like sand beneath an encroaching surf? Perhaps it was the first time she had looked past the bland reserve in those cool gray eyes to the turbulent emotions they so neatly disguised. Perhaps it was the moment she had realized his harsh facade was only a cover for the loneliness and despair that had haunted him for so long.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Tears for Justin and the empty life he led. Tears for herself for loving a man who would never love her in return. How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word?
“Perhaps you could teach him.”
Harcourt’s casual statement had haunted her since the moment he had said it. Was it possible for a man like Justin to learn to love?
And if it was, was she woman enough to teach him?
More important, did she have the courage to try?
She heard him just then, downstairs in the entry. A moment later, his weary footfalls started up the stairs. He rarely drank and she knew he wasn’t drunk now. Just tired and wet and lonely.
On the morrow he would be leaving. She wasn’t sure when he would return. For weeks she had avoided him. Now it suddenly seemed imperative that she see him—tonight, this very minute. Ariel’s hands shook as she slid from the wide feather bed and drew on her quilted blue satin wrapper. She tugged her loosely plaited braid out from beneath the collar, letting it fall down her back, and started across the room, her heart thumping, her mouth suddenly dry.
Moving quietly, checking to be certain none of the servants were about, she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. A silver lamp flickered on a table at the end of the passage, casting eerie shadows against the walls. She shivered from the chill in the drafty corridor and hurried toward the master suite, pausing for a moment when she reached it.
On the opposite side of the heavy wooden door she could hear him moving about. She took a breath for courage, grasped the silver knob before she lost her nerve, turned the handle, and stepped into the dimly lit room. Standing in the sitting room, she could see through the open door leading into his bedchamber. Firelight flickered in the hearth and an oil light burned on the marble-topped dresser. Justin stood in front of it, preparing himself for bed.
For an instant Ariel couldn’t breathe. He had stripped away his tailcoat, waistcoat, and white lawn shirt. Wet black breeches clung to his narrow hips like a layer of paint, outlining long, hard-muscled legs encased in tall black boots. His hair was wet with rain and clinging to the nape of his neck, while a thick lock hung over his forehead. His chest was bare, wide and dark and covered with a fine thatch of curly black hair that arrowed past a flat stomach heavily ridged with muscle.
Unconsciously Ariel moistened her lips, her gaze still riveted on the beautiful maleness of his body. She didn’t realize she was moving, silently walking toward him, until he looked up and saw her and went completely still. Concern replaced surprise, and those slashing black brows slammed nearly together.
“Ariel? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” He started toward her, reached her in three long strides, worriedly grasped her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She moistened her trembling lips. “I had to come. I had to see you.”
“Ariel … love … tell me what’s happened.”
“Everything is fine. I just … I don’t want you to go.”
He said nothing for the longest time. “I don’t understand.”
“In a way I don’t, either. I only know I don’t want you to leave on the morrow. I want you to stay here with me.”
His expression changed, hardened. A muscle leaped in his cheek. “You know why I’m going. Even you aren’t that naive.”
She flushed a little but didn’t look away. “I know why you’re going. You’re trying to keep your distance, trying to protect me. You don’t want to hurt me.”
Turbulence rose in those incredible gray eyes; then it was gone. “I’m going because I lust for you. If I stay here, sooner or later, I’ll take you.”
Would he? Not unless she wanted him to. She knew that about him now, knew that she could trust him.
“Do you want me that badly, Justin?”
His jaw tightened. Something hot and hungry moved over his features. “You know I do.”
“Then make love to me. Now. Tonight.”
For an instant the pupils of his eyes flared; then he slowly shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She reached toward him, rested a hand on his chest. “You’re wrong, Justin. I know exactly what I’m saying.” And she did. For the first time since she’d stepped into the hall, she understood what had compelled her to come to his room, understood exactly the risk she was taking, knew that she’d had to take it. “When you canceled my debt, you gave me back my freedom. You allowed me to make my own choices, my own decisions. I’m choosing what both of us want.”
Justin stared at her as if she were another, different woman, his dark gaze troubled and intense. “You can’t mean that. You’ve fought against this since the day we met.”
“I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. Make love to me, Justin … please.” Long, disturbing seconds passed; then a shudder rippled the length of his body. His hands reached out, circling her waist, and he hauled her into his arms.
His chest was still damp with rain. She could feel his rapidly beating heart. His wet breeches soaked her robe, but Ariel didn’t care. Sometime during the long hours of the evening, everything had become crystal clear. From this moment forward, she would do what her heart demanded, no matter the outcome, no matter the cost.
Justin’s gaze moved over her face, studying each of her features, looking into her eyes as if he searched her soul. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, the fiercest, most achingly tender kiss she had ever known. A kiss that said all of the things she yearned to hear him say and probably never would. Ariel kissed him back with all the love she had just discovered, and dear God, it felt so right, so good. She pressed soft kisses against the side of his mouth, against his throat, against his bare shoulder. She felt him tremble.
Justin dragged in a shuddering breath and gently caught her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Ariel, are you certain?”
Very certain, she thought. I love you. But she didn’t say the words. He wouldn’t know how to cope with those sorts of emotions—not yet. She had only just learned to accept them herself. “I’m sure, Justin.”
Sliding her arms around his neck, she tangled her fingers in his damp black hair and drew his mouth down to hers, kissing his hard mouth to softness, inhaling the musky, masculine scent of him. Justin kissed her deeply, erotically, as if he couldn’t get enough, his warm breath flowing into hers, their lips moist and clinging. Ariel swayed against him, marveling at how perfectly their bodies fit together, enraptured by the solid, protective feel of his chest.
Then he was lifting her up, striding through the doorway back into his bedchamber, laying her down on the big tester bed and stripping away her satin wrapper. He tugged the ribbon at the neck of her cotton night rail, then drew it off over her head. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks, but she didn’t try to cover herself. Not when she saw the glow of approval that gleamed like silver fire in his eyes. He pulled the ribbon that held her loosely plaited hair and raked his fingers through it, spreading it around her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Even lovelier than I imagined.” He traced a finger along her jaw, trailed it down her neck and over her shoulder, let it drift lower, over the peak of a nipple, and a soft warmth shimmered through her. Justin bent his head and kissed her, long and thoroughly, cupping a breast, teasing the end, making it ache and tingle.
He left her only long enough to blow out the lamp on the dresser and remove his wet breeches and boots; then he joined her on the bed, his body still moist and slightly chilled as he came up over her, his gray eyes dark and intense.
“I know I should send you away. If I wasn’t such a heartless bastard, I would.” He brushed a strand of long blond hair back from her cheek. “But I won’t let you go. I can’t. I want you too damned badly.”
“Justin…” She reached up to him, cupped his hard jaw in the palm of her hand. There was something in his eyes. She looked past the hunger, glimpsed the aching need, the raw, pain-filled yearning; then his mouth crushed down over hers. His tongue swept in, stroking deeply, possessively; and hot, sweet fire spilled into her belly. The kiss went on and on, wet and hungry, long and seeking, a kiss that made her nipples stiff and her heart beat like a drum.
Outside, the storm continued to build, a tempest that matched the raging in her blood. Justin’s mouth moved along her throat and down her shoulder; then he captured a nipple between his teeth. He sucked the fullness into his mouth, and lightning spread out through the tiny blue veins beneath her skin. Ariel moaned. She was trembling now, her breasts tingling beneath the skillful stroking of his tongue, aching almost painfully. His hand smoothed over her rib cage, past her navel, moving lower, sifting through the pale blond hair at the juncture of her legs.
Ariel tensed. She didn’t know much about making love, only what Kitt had told her, and she wasn’t sure exactly what to do.
“I won’t hurt you, Ariel,” he said softly. “Do you believe that?”
She swallowed. Nodded. “Yes.…” She sighed as he kissed her again, let the warm sensations wash through her, and allowed her tense muscles to relax. A long dark finger probed gently between her legs, urging them to part for him, then slid deep inside her. A wave of heat washed over her, swelling like a tide. Justin began to stroke her, setting up a rhythm that matched the deep probing of his tongue and pleasure, sweet and fierce, tightened low in her belly. She caught her breath as he stroked her more deeply, gliding easily into the slippery dampness at her core.
Ariel shook with the onslaught of sensation that rolled over her, made a soft, whimpering sound in her throat.
Justin kissed her softly. “Your body is ready for me, Ariel. You’re hot and wet, waiting for me to join with you.”
She moistened her lips, knew that they trembled. “What … What should I do?”
He gave her one of his rare, sweet smiles, and her heart nearly melted with love for him. “Just trust me. I’ll take care of the rest.”
She smiled at him in return and caught the flash of tenderness in his eyes before he settled himself between her legs. She felt the hard, probing length of him as he carefully eased himself inside. Reaching her maidenhead, he paused. When he looked down at her, she saw a mixture of relief and something more, something so tender and sweet it made her heart turn over.
“It will only hurt for an instant,” he said. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”
She hadn’t known it would hurt and unconsciously she stiffened. Then he started kissing her again. Outside the window, the storm crackled loudly. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Justin was equally relentless. He filled her mouth with his tongue, filled her heart with love, filled her mind with thoughts only of him. Then he pressed home.
Her sharp intake of breath was muffled by his kiss as he slid into her completely, impaling his hardness full-length. Ariel clung to him, trembling, trying to adjust to the strange sensation. Holding himself in check, Justin braced himself on his elbows above her, his concentration so fierce that beads of moisture broke out on his forehead.
“Are you all right?”
“I … yes. It wasn’t … wasn’t all that bad.”
Relief made his beautiful mouth curve up. He kissed her very slowly, very thoroughly; then he began to move. Ariel sucked in a breath at the pulsing sensations that began to pour through her. The rigid blade of his shaft slowly drove into her, filling her in a way that made shivers rush over her skin. Heat exploded inside her, burned like a wildfire through her blood. Ariel clutched his neck, her nails digging into the muscles across his shoulders, her body arching upward of its own accord. Harder, deeper, faster, the rhythm seductive, absorbing her mind and body, promising … promising …
Her body tensed, tightened around his hardened length. A jolt of heat roared through her, as white-hot as the lightning outside the window, and she shattered, bursting like the raindrops that splintered against the panes.
“Justin…!” Ariel clung to him with all her strength, afraid to let go, certain if she did she would be swept away. She felt his body stiffen, felt something hot and wet spilling in her womb. With a groan he slumped forward into her arms.
For long moments they lay there, listening to the sounds of the storm and the rhythmical beating of their hearts.
I was right to go to him, she thought. Nothing wrong could ever feel so perfect.
Justin softly kissed her. Easing himself away, he stretched out at her side and drew her into the circle of his arms. “I didn’t hurt you too badly?”
Ariel smiled into the darkness. “I loved it.”
She saw the edges of his mouth curve up. “So did I.”
“As much as you imagined?”
“More. A thousand times more.”
She relaxed against the pillows, agreeing with him completely. She thought that they would sleep now, but lying beside him as she was, tucked beneath his shoulder and against his side, her hand resting lightly on his chest, she could feel his muscles expanding as he breathed, feel the slight indentation of his ribs. She traced a path there, outlined each one, and felt an inward ripple of the same tingly heat she had felt before.
“You’re playing with fire, little girl.”
There was mischief in his voice, something she had never heard, and that small achievement thrilled her. She brazenly ringed his nipple with the tip of her finger. “Am I?”
Justin caught her wrist, dragged it down his stomach, and wrapped her fingers around his arousal, which was hard again and pulsing into her hand.
“Oh, my.”
She heard him chuckle and liked the sound. She began to test the size, discover the length, which was every bit as big and hard as it had felt when it was inside her.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice a little gruffer than before.
“So you did,” she said, but she didn’t stop touching him. She was feeling that same hot restlessness she had felt when they were making love. Now she knew it meant she wanted to feel him inside her.
Ariel gasped as he came up over her, parted her legs with his knee, and slid himself in with a single smooth stroke. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he teased. “Now you’re going to get burned.” Lowering his head, he kissed her.
Ariel kissed him back and inwardly she smiled. Tomorrow would be her nineteenth birthday. As a child, she’d been taught to stay away from fire. Not tonight. Tonight, she wasn’t going to mind getting burned.