Furrowing her brow, she peered up at him. "Why?"
"I won"t risk putting you over my knee in your present condition, but I do intend to kiss your bare bottom."
And kiss it he did. His tongue swirling over her flesh. He kissed the backs of her knees, her thighs. He trailed his mouth along her spine. Heavenly. So heavenly. And unfair. Unfair that in this position she couldn"t touch him.
Rolling over, she wound her arms around his neck and brought him down to her. She thought she"d never have enough of this, of touching him, of having him touch her. It was as if they knew everything about each other, even as they made new discoveries.
He was ticklish under his arms, jerking if her fingers got too close. She was ticklish on the inside of her hips, laughing when he skimmed his fingers over them.
They teased each other, bringing each other close to that moment when the world faded away and there was nothing except the two of them. Only to retreat and start the dance of seduction over.
She thought she would go mad with the wanting. She began urging him to hurry.
"Now," she gasped. "Now. I need you now."
He rose above her and plunged inside her. They were each so ready for the other that they were straining and bucking against each other, leaping over the edge until there was nothing except the pleasure.
Nothing except each other.
Epilogue.
From the Journal of Lucian Langdon.
the Earl of Claybourne.
They say my parents were murdered in the London streets by a gang of ruffians.
I now know that to be untrue.
They were killed by my father"s brother, my uncle. And fate, in its mysterious ways, delivered him to my hand for retribution.
My memories have slowly begun to drift out of the dark shadows where I banished them for so long.
I remember standing beside my father at the pond. He was so much taller than I. To me he appeared to be a giant. Yet he always made me feel safe, and I strive now to give my own children that sense of well-being.
And the old gent. I know him now as my grandfather, and I think of him with increasing fondness. I regret that I was not as certain of my place beside him while he was alive-I regret even more that he was aware of my misgivings. Yet I know he never doubted, and I shall do all in my power to ensure that his faith in me was not misplaced.
When I was small, he would hoist me upon his lap, hold me near, and tell me tales of my ancestors. And on sunny mornings, with my small hand nestled in his larger one, we would walk over the moors, where he taught me to gather flowers to give to my mother.
My mother. I can see her so clearly now. She had the gentlest of smiles. I remember her tucking me into bed at night and whispering that I would become an exceptional earl.
My wife a.s.sures me that is the way of it, that I have fulfilled my mother"s prediction, but then she is rather biased. She loves me in spite of my flaws. Or perhaps because of them.
My friendship with Jack remains strained. I want to believe that he was duped, but he has always been far too clever to fall for another man"s ruse. So we have added yet one more thing to our relationship about which we never speak. Sometimes I think we will break beneath the weight of it, but on those occasions I have but to look at my wife in order to find the strength to carry on. I am determined to be worthy of her and that requires that I be a far stronger and better man than I had ever planned to be.
We see Frannie from time to time, not as often as we"d like unfortunately. She did eventually marry, but that is her story to tell.
Dear Frannie, darling Frannie.
She shall always remain the love of my youth, the one for whom I sold my soul to the devil. But Catherine, my beloved Catherine, shall always be the center of my heart, the one who, in the final hour, would not let the devil have me.
About the Author.
LORRAINE HEATH always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, press releases for a publicist, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. In 1990, she read a romance novel and became not only hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She"s been writing about them ever since. Her work has been recognized with numerous industry awards, including RWA"s RITA, a HOLT medallion, and a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. Her novels have appeared on bestseller lists, including USA Today, Waldenbooks, and, most recently, the New York Times.
Lorraine loves hearing from readers. You can write her at or visit her website at www.lorraineheath.com.
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By Lorraine Heath.
IN BED WITH THE DEVIL.
JUST WICKED ENOUGH.
A DUKE OF HER OWN.
PROMISE ME FOREVER.
A MATTER OF TEMPTATION.
AS AN EARL DESIRES.
AN INVITATION TO SEDUCTION.
LOVE WITH A SCANDALOUS LORD.
TO MARRY AN HEIRESS.
THE OUTLAW AND THE LADY.
NEVER MARRY A COWBOY.
NEVER LOVE A COWBOY.
A ROGUE IN TEXAS.
If You"ve Enjoyed This Book.
Be Sure to Read These Other.
AVON ROMANTIC TREASURES..
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NEVER TRUST A SCOUNDREL by Gayle Callen.
A NOTORIOUS PROPOSITION by Adele Ashworth.
THE PERILS OF PLEASURE by Julie Anne Long.
UNDER YOUR SPELL by Lois Greiman.
Coming Soon.
THE MISTRESS DIARIES by Julianne MacLean.
Table of Contents.
Prologue.
Chapter 1 London1851 It was common knowledge that one never spoke of the devil for fear that in so doing one would attract his ardent attention. So it was that few among the aristocracy spoke of Lucian Langdon, the Earl of Claybourne. Yet, as Lady Catherine Mabry stood in the midnight shadows near his residence, she couldn"t deny that she"d been fascinated with the Devil Earl ever since he"d dared to appear at a ball uninvited. He"d danced with no one. He"d spoken with no one. But he had prowled through the ballroom as though taking measure of each and every person within its confines and finding them all sadly lacking. She"d found it particularly distressing when his gaze had settled on her and lingered a second or two longer than was proper. She"d neither flinched nor looked away-although she"d dearly wanted to do both-but she"d held his gaze with all the innocent audacity that a young lady of seventeen could muster. She"d taken some satisfaction in his being the first to look away,
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2 If Catherine hadn"t been standing so extremely close to Claybourne that their hearts fairly beat in the same erratic rhythm, she"d have thought he"d received a brutal blow. Although he seemed to recover quickly enough as he released his hold on her and stepped back, his face once more an unreadable mask. His expression had been just as inscrutable when he"d first walked into the room. While she was certain his butler had told him that a lady had come to call, Claybourne had not even looked surprised to discover she was the one waiting for him. It was only when he"d drawn back from the kiss that she"d seen any emotion at all, and she could have sworn it was desire. Desire for her specifically? Hardly likely. It was no doubt nothing more than l.u.s.t unleashed and the particular woman standing before him of no consequence. He was known for flirting at the edge of respectability, and he was no doubt accustomed to dragging others over the precipice with him. But to her immense shame
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3 "It"s so monstrously difficult to decide," the d.u.c.h.ess of Avendale said. "I don"t know which one would be best." Looking across the small table in her garden, she caught Catherine in the midst of an embarra.s.sing yawn, not that the d.u.c.h.ess seemed to notice. She pushed the selections across the table. "Which do you favor?" "Winnie, you"re selecting parchment for invitations," Catherine told her. "Great Britain will not fall because of your decision. Which one do you like best?" Winnie gnawed on her lower lip. "I don"t know. I think I like the look of the cream, but it"s more expensive. Is it worth it?" "If it pleases you then it"s worth the extra expense." "It"s not I who has to be pleased, it"s my husband. The stationer is expecting me this afternoon. Will you come with me to make sure I do the invitations properly?" Winnie had been Catherine"s dearest friend since they were small girls. It bothered Catherine immeasurably to see Winnie"s confidence waning. "You"ve given b.a.l.l.s
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4 Very deliberately and carefully, Catherine dipped the gold nub of her pen into the inkwell. Her father wouldn"t be pleased by her actions, but she didn"t see that she had any choice. My dearest brother, I hope my letter finds you well- I hope it finds you at all, she thought wearily. -and enjoying your travels. However, I have desperate need of you at home. Her hand was shaking when she again dipped into the inkwell. She had Sterling"s traveling schedule, but she had no idea if he was following it diligently. Still she didn"t see that she had much choice except to try to get in touch with him. But then the doubts surfaced. How could she even consider asking of her brother what she"d asked of Claybourne? He didn"t possess Claybourne"s dark soul. Her brother was kind and generous. She loved him dearly-except for the fact that being several years older he seemed to be of the opinion that his was the only one of any importance. That att.i.tude had no doubt led to the row with her f
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5 d.a.m.nation, what was it about the woman that had him confessing things he"d never confessed to anyone else? What was it about her that filled him with shame about his past? What made him want to shock her down to her very toes? What made him want to appear as evil as she believed him to be? The thoughts had been tormenting him ever since he"d left her garden. He was no doubt a fool for getting involved in this matter without more information. She wouldn"t reveal who she wanted killed until he was ready to carry out her bidding. For all he knew, he was the one she wanted done in. Not that he could think of a single reason why she would. A wise man never went into a situation without knowing all the details. He was sadly lacking in details. He banged on the door of the simple lodging. He waited a minute, banged again. He saw a light flicker in a lower window and banged once more. The door opened and an elderly woman held up her lamp. "Are you daft? Are you not aware of the hour?
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6 Frannie Darling stepped out of Dodger"s Drawing Room-the elegant name she"d suggested for something rather inelegant at its core, as though pretty words could make sin acceptable-and walked toward the stairs that led to the small flat where she lived. It was still part of Dodger"s, but the outside entrance at least made her feel as though she were stepping away from the dregs and into a better life. Not that she didn"t have the means to live in a fancier dwelling. She did. Feagan"s lads treated her as an equal, and she shared in the profits from their ventures. She could live in a palace if she wanted, but the money she earned was never for her. Others were far more deserving. As she made her way up the stairs, she smelled the familiar richly scented tobacco. It was a much more pleasant aroma than it had been when they were children. Jack could afford the very finest customized tobacco now. Yet still he packed it into the long clay pipe he"d begun using when he was a lad of e
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7 "I have it on good authority that Mr. Marcus Langdon has filed a bill in the Court of Chancery in order to reclaim his English estates. It is a start toward reclaiming his rightful t.i.tle," Lady Charlotte said. Catherine and Winnie, along with the Countess of Chesney, were having afternoon tea in Lady Charlotte"s garden. While she"d only recently had her coming out, her father, the Earl of Mill-bank, was most anxious for her to marry. Who could blame him? She was the first of four gossipy daughters, which was one of the reasons she had frequent visitors. She seemed to know things before most people did. "Then you mustn"t do anything to discourage his interest," the Countess of Chesney said. Lady Charlotte smiled knowingly. Obviously her good authority was Mr. Langdon himself. Catherine had seen them dancing together at b.a.l.l.s and walking through Hyde Park. Still, she hadn"t realized Lady Charlotte"s interest in the unt.i.tled gentleman was so intense. "But the Crown has already d