“Well done! You’re not the meek lamb I thought you were.” She moved to the sideboard and poured herself a brandy. Her lips were curled into a smirk, but he could see the anger there in her eyes and knew he had hit a sore spot. “What will you do, James? Kill me? Tell the world who I really am?”
She returned to her desk and sank into the chair, her glass in hand. The place was silent… so very silent. As the clock on the mantel ticked the seconds by, James kept waiting for Wavers, or someone, to enter. No one came. Something was wrong.
“Do it then,” she demanded, glancing at the pistol he held. “Do it now, get it over with.”
She was right… why not end it all now while he had the chance? He lifted the pistol, pointing it at her chest. “Perhaps I will.”
She held her arms wide and leaned back against her chair. “Then by all means… end it. You’d certainly be better off, I won’t deny that.”
One shot, one bullet and it would be over. As his gaze met hers, he could see the dare in her eyes. His finger trembled over the trigger. How badly he wanted to kill her, to end it all. He could. He could kill her and escape before anyone knew better. He cocked the gun. He could rid the world of her plot for revenge and he could head to Lord Beckett’s home next.
“James, don’t,” Eleanor’s familiar voice called out, startling him.
James jerked his head toward the door. Ellie stood just over the threshold, like a damn angel come to save his soul. A beaten and bruised angel with imploring, heavenly blue eyes that made him rethink everything. His hand began to tremble. It wasn’t real; he’d gone insane. Ellie couldn’t be here.
“Eleanor,” he whispered, his heart hammering so loudly he couldn’t hear what she said. But she was speaking, he could see her lips moving as she started toward him like a bloody dream, or maybe it was a nightmare. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
He didn’t want her to witness Ophelia’s death. He sure as hell didn’t want her to see him become a murderer. “Leave, Ellie. Now.”
“No.” She stepped closer to him. But seeing the bruises marring her beautiful face only made him more determined to kill them and end it all. First Ophelia, and then Lord Beckett. Didn’t she understand that he was doing this for her?
“Damn it, James, she’s trying to manipulate you, and you’re doing exactly what she wants!”
“I know, and I don’t really care.” He returned his attention to Ophelia, intent on ignoring Eleanor and the feelings of humanity she stirred within him. If she had to witness Ophelia’s death, so be it. She would thank him later.
“James,” Eleanor said softly, her voice husky with emotion. “Don’t throw it all away. Beat her at her own game by leaving, by running away with me and embracing a new life.”
“A life?” He released a wry laugh. She made it sound so easy. “How?”
“I’m here,” Eleanor whispered, pressing her hand to his chest. “We’ll find a way to be together.”
“Bravo,” Ophelia said softly. “ ’Tis truly so touching that it’s almost believable.”
Ellie stepped closer, forcing him to lower his eyes and meet her pleading gaze. “Don’t give up hope. Don’t give up on us.”
It was impossible; they could never have a life together. Didn’t she see that? So why did he hesitate? Torn, he looked over her shoulder and met Ophelia’s cold gaze. She wasn’t afraid, he realized with a start. She didn’t care if he pulled the trigger.
“You dared to believe in me when no one else has.” Eleanor stepped closer to him and rested her palm on the side of his face. “You are the most courageous man I know, not because of your brawn, but because of your compassion.”
Her words hit him hard and the gun trembled in his hand. He didn’t know if he could be that man anymore, damn it all if he wanted to be. He gritted his teeth, torn between doing what his heart and his head told him to do. He might not be the caring, easy-natured James everyone knew, but he couldn’t disappoint Eleanor.
“Damn you,” James hissed, dropping the gun to his side. “You give me too much credit.”
“I don’t. I know the real you, James. Don’t let her need for revenge turn you into what she has become.”
He gripped her waist and pulled her close, knowing the stench of his prison clung to his clothing and not caring. He had Ellie, he had his freedom… what more did they need?
“Oh, well done, beautifully said,” Ophelia proclaimed, clapping her hands. “I almost believe you, James.” She surged to her feet, her face cold and bitter. “But we all know you’re nothing more than a street rat.”
James held Ellie tight. “Dear God, you want me to shoot you, don’t you?”
She sneered at him but he didn’t miss the desperate plea in her eyes. Suddenly he understood. The entire world became clear and alive once more. Eleanor had been right. “You want me to kill you so I hang, giving you what you wanted all along. You will have destroyed my life, and you can be done with this world.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He pushed Ellie behind him, not trusting Ophelia in the least. “It’s true. You’ve spread your poison and you’re ready to leave because you have nothing to live for anymore.” He took Eleanor’s hand. His body felt lighter, his chest warm and aching. “Look for another to take your bait.”
“James, no,” Ophelia said, her voice laced with desperation. She skirted the desk and started toward them. “Don’t leave me.”
James ignored her plea and led Eleanor toward the door. Alex, Gideon, and Mr. Smith stood in the foyer. They’d seen it all.
“James, I swear I will destroy you!”
Ellie flinched. He started to slide his arm around her waist when he noticed the slight widening of Alex’s eyes. Before he had time to react, Gideon lifted his pistol. The blast rang out, shaking the room. James jerked Ellie close to him.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She gave a jerky nod, her heart slamming wildly against his chest. He hated seeing her so afraid. Slowly, Gideon lowered his arm. The acidic scent of gunpowder hung heavy in the air. James spun around.
Ophelia was staring at her hand, blood dripping from the spot where her finger had been. A bloodied mess of managed flesh and bone. Her own pistol lay upon the desk where it had fallen from her hand. Gideon had just saved him… again.
Eleanor gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. The sight was too horrifying even for him. Still, Lady Lavender merely stood there staring at her hand, not making a sound. He looked away, leading Ellie toward the hall.
“Vhat the hell happened?” Wavers suddenly appeared, the big bull trembling with shock and anger. He could not harm them now. He was gravely outnumbered.
“Better tend to Ophelia, Wavers,” Alex said softly. “You’re all she has left.”
The woman had sunk into her chair, her face white as snow as she cradled her bloodied hand to her chest. She looked like a child who had just lost her favorite toy. The sight did not bring James any glee.
“Come on,” James whispered. Ellie had seen enough horror in her life; she didn’t need to witness more. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her through the foyer and out the front door.
“She’ll most likely seek revenge,” Alex said as they found the two carriages waiting.
“Yes, but at least this time we’ll be prepared.”
James helped Ellie into one carriage while Alex, Gideon, and Mr. Smith took the other. He knew enough to know that this wouldn’t be over until they left the country and went into hiding.
They didn’t speak the entire way to London. They didn’t speak after they entered the hotel, even after they made it to their private room and she’d changed into her nightclothes without a glance from him. James ate quickly, as if merely nourishing his body for battle, then left the table to order a bath. The silence was driving her insane.
Eleanor dragged her spoon through the stew. The food smelled and looked delicious, but she had no appetite. From
under her lashes she watched James as he bathed. The gleam of his muscled skin in the light of the fire made him practically glow like a golden Adonis. Yet his beauty was marked by bruises, reminders of his pain and all he had gone through thanks to her. The thought that he had come so close to death was something she didn’t dare dwell upon. If only she hadn’t visited Lady Lavender’s in the first place… if only she hadn’t told him the truth, would he be better off?
James leaned back against the tub, his arms relaxed upon the rim as he gazed unblinkingly into the fire. He looked exhausted yet didn’t sleep. Yes, she had talked him out of killing Lady Lavender, but at what price? He seemed almost… defeated, different, not the James she had come to care about. She found herself nervous and unsure what to say around this man.
“Is the water getting cold? Shall I ring for a footman?”
“No.” He stood, water trailing down the dips and planes of his muscled stomach. She wanted to trace the edge of his jaw with her fingertips, wanted to run her hands through that crisp trail of hair that led to his cock. She wanted to press her face into his neck and breathe in his familiar, musky scent while wrapping her hand firmly around his thick shaft. But mostly she wanted him inside of her, as close as they could possibly be.
He moved a cloth over his body, drying his skin. Eleanor suddenly felt breathless and hot, the room too small. She jerked her gaze away and stood, gripping the table when her legs shook unsteadily. “You should eat more.”
“I’m fine.”
She dared to glance at him. He’d wrapped the cloth around his waist, letting the material fall down to his knees. How she wanted to go to him and press her lips to his, to kiss him thoroughly, deeply, and beg him to care about her again. Perhaps it was all too much and he’d finally realized how much easier his life would be without her. With trembling fingers she lifted the ceramic pot of medicine Patience had given her earlier. James stood near the fireplace, his back to her, his body so still he could have been a statue.
Ellie took in a deep, trembling breath and started toward him. She couldn’t stand the tension anymore. “I should tend to your wounds.”
“No.” He turned to face her.
She paused, confused as he took the jar from her hands and set it on the mantel.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to tend to my wounds.”
Her anger and frustration grew. “Damn you, James! Don’t you dare treat me this way! We have a chance here, a chance to find happiness, a life. Don’t you—”
“Eleanor,” he said softly, taking her hands in his. “I don’t want you to tend to my wounds right now because instead, I want to kiss you. I want to make love to you.”
A shiver of heat rushed through her body. “Oh.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and slid his hand up her back, pressing the flat of his palm between her shoulder blades. Slowly, he lowered his lips. Eleanor sighed, closing her eyes and lifting on tiptoe to meet him. It was a soft, gentle kiss that left her weak-kneed and wanting more. When he finally drew back, she sank into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. This was the James she knew, the James she had come to care for.
“I was so worried,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
“I know,” he whispered.
He nuzzled the top of her head, pressing kisses to her hair. Through the drying towel and her nightdress, she could feel his erection growing long and hard. Despite her vulnerable emotional state, she found her own body hungry for his touch. Emboldened, she pressed her mouth to the scruff along his throat. The scent of the prison was gone and he smelled like himself once more. Unable to help herself, she darted her tongue out, drawing a damp path up his neck.
James groaned, his arms tightening around her body, pressing her soft curves up against his hard form. Every kiss, every touch, every ache was as sweet as she remembered. Better, for she knew now what was to come.
“I want you too, James,” she whispered.
With a growl, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “Help me, Ellie. Help me remember what it’s like to feel pleasure, not pain. To know hope, not despair. Love me.”
A rush of emotion overwhelmed her. She did love him, so much more than he realized. The warm feelings that swept through her body had nothing to do with attraction and all to do with love. He settled her gently upon the bed. The chill that had permeated her bones since James had been arrested faded.
“You don’t know how relieved I am to see you,” he said softly. “Thinking about you was the thing that kept me alive.”
She felt his words all the way to her soul. He stretched out beside her and reached for the neckline of her night wrap. With a quick tug, the gown was down and her breasts exposed. His mouth covered a hardened nipple, and attraction shot through her body, pooling in her groin. Eleanor arched her back, unable to control the emotions pulsing within.
“So lovely,” he whispered, as his hand came up to cup her other breast. “You smell so damn good, like roses in the middle of hell. I’d think about that scent when I was in the gaols. Dream about gardens and you. Dream about touching you, kissing you, being inside of you.”
He pressed his mouth to the valley between her breasts. Then lower, taking her gown with him. Moments later she found herself naked, and the towel that had been covering James was gone. When he lay atop her, pressing his full weight into her body, she thought she’d gone to heaven. She would never tire of his touch, never tire of him. Eleanor wrapped her legs around his calves, holding him close. He was hers. Finally. He was free from Lady Lavender’s hold, and she would be free from her husband soon.
As James pressed his mouth to hers, his hand slid torturously slowly up her thigh. Ellie groaned, wiggling beneath him. The ache between her legs twisted almost painfully. After having gone so many years without the gentle touch of a loved one, Ellie was frantic for more. “Please, James.”
“I want to kiss every bit of you, I want to savor the feel of my cock entering you slowly, fully.”
“No.” She shook her head, her body flushed with desperation. “Later we’ll go slowly. This time fast.”
The surprised grin upon his face sent her heart pattering. His knuckles brushed the curls hiding her femininity. She shuddered, whimpering for more. When he eased a finger between her slick folds and into her tight sheath, it still wasn’t enough.
“Dear God, you’re wet,” he whispered.
“James, I want you fully,” she whispered, her face heating with an embarrassed blush. She’d never asked for anything, but she couldn’t quite keep the words inside.
He pressed his mouth to hers in a quick kiss and shifted so his erection pressed against the spot that ached for his touch. “This?”
Ellie nodded, her hands moving down his muscled back toward his tight arse. She felt afire. Every nerve in her body begged for his touch. She’d had a taste of perfection and she craved more. Lord, she’d had no idea being with a man could feel this way.
“I was so worried,” she whispered against his lips. “So afraid.”
He pressed the thickened head of his cock to her folds and entered her with a quick thrust of his hips. “I have you now. Nothing, no one, will keep us apart.”
Whether it was true or not, at that moment she believed him. As he lifted his hips, she surged upward, meeting him thrust for thrust. Years of loneliness were gone with his touch. With James she had everything she’d ever wanted, everything she needed. Life with James might be difficult, but it would be full of adventure and compassion.
His mouth found hers, his tongue delving between her lips in a heated kiss that left her feeling drugged. His arms wrapped around her possessively as he rocked into her, finding a rhythm that matched her own.
His muscled back was tight under her palms, a find sheen of sweat coated their skin, and the erotic scents of their lovemaking permeated the air. Every bit of her body tingled with sudden awareness. He knew exactly where to touch her, exactly what
to whisper into her ear.
“Come for me, Eleanor,” he said softly.
When the ache between her legs finally uncoiled into blinding pleasure, she cried out his name. James surged into her one more time, throwing his head back with a groan. The feel of his wet seed entering her body sent her sheath trembling all over again.
Ellie wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to her, suddenly afraid he would leave. She didn’t want to let him go… ever.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his breathing harsh. “I’ll crush you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
Unwillingly, she released her hold and he rolled away, reclining on his back, his eyes closed. Ellie cuddled up next to him, resting her hand on his chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart. She wanted words of passion, words of love. He said nothing. Slowly, she reached out, brushing the damp clumps of hair from his forehead. He looked peaceful, boyish almost.
“James,” she whispered, steeling her courage. “I love you.”
He didn’t respond.
Ellie pulled the covers up to her chin, feeling suddenly cold. Her husband had taken everything from her… her innocence, her family, her faith. He’d crushed her hopes and dreams. But she’d never truly loved him.
As she lay there listening to James’s deep, even breathing she realized that James could hurt her in a way her husband never could. He could destroy her very soul. Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to go blank, determined to rest.
Tomorrow was another day. Things would be better in the morning… at least she hoped.
Chapter 18
James was gone.
Alex had left years ago.
It seemed as if she’d lost Gideon as well.
Ophelia had dismissed most of the staff, sent them on their way to whatever lives they could make for themselves. She wasn’t a complete monster; she’d given them each enough to pass the next few months. Only Wavers remained, refusing to leave her side, the moron. He was like a large bulldog that drooled all over her, wanting a handout. She’d get rid of him too, when she was ready. Rumors were circulating that she would be shut down soon, in any way possible. Society had had enough of Lady Lavender’s sinful ways. She had nothing left.