He continued shedding his clothing—his evening shoes and stockings, then breeches and drawers. Soon he was sublimely naked. In the soft glow of lamplight, Maura couldn’t help but notice his loins; he was already heavy and aroused, the shaft pulsing and erect between his sinewed thighs.
Contrarily, desire began to shimmer inside her, even before he took her hand and said tenderly, “Come lie with me, Maura.”
“Ash …” she murmured, a final effort at protest.
“Hush, sweeting.”
He was done arguing, Maura realized as he led her toward the bed. He intended to make love to her instead—his way of silencing her. He knew she was helpless in his arms.
He undressed her swiftly, divesting her of her robe and nightshift, then drew her down to lie beside him on the bed and began a sensual assault designed to shred the last remnants of her resistance.
For a while he only caressed her bare breasts. Then his mouth dipped to her swollen nipples. Maura shivered as it closed hot and moist over a sensitive bud. Wet heat pulled her taut inside as Ash suckled her, his tongue laving while his palm slid along the satin of her inner thighs to find the heart of her womanhood.
He aroused her until she was moaning for him, until a desperate fire had built in her yielding, throbbing center. At her urgent pleas for release, he finally mounted her. His hard thighs pressing into her softness, he thrust inside her slick passage with exquisite care, then withdrew in a slow, sensual motion, only to sink slowly into her again.
Settling into a possessive rhythm, he captured her mouth in a searing kiss that compelled her complete surrender. As Maura clung to him, the scent of him filled her senses, the taste of him stole her reason. And as she felt him move inside her, she experienced his spellbinding power again—that special magic only Ash could command. He made her feel whole, complete, as if they had been lovers forever and always would be.
Their whispers and murmurs and moans gave way to cries of passion from their explosive joining. When it was over, they both lay spent and shuddering and flushed with heat.
At last Ash raised himself up on one elbow. Gazing deeply into Maura’s eyes, he cradled her cheek. “Don’t worry for me, love. I want to do this for you.”
His touch was so tender. It warmed her and comforted her and made her heart ache, just as the soft light in his eyes did.
Admitting her resistance totally vanquished, Maura buried her face in his shoulder, yet her emotions were still in turmoil. She couldn’t bear to lose Ash, she thought with dismay. Not now, when she had just come to love him so very much.
Ash woke well before dawn, cherishing the feel of Maura’s warm, silken body curled against him. Judging by her soft breathing, she was still asleep—a state he hoped to maintain.
He didn’t want her waking until after he was gone, for he knew she would try to plead with him again. Yet he intended to follow through with the duel this morning. It was in his power to give Maura what she wanted most in the world, and he wasn’t about to give up now. He wanted—needed—to defeat her nemesis for her. If that entailed mortal risk, then so be it. He would die for her, defend her to the death, just as he would for any member of his family.
He considered Maura his family now.
So what did that say about his feelings for her? More crucially, what were her feelings for him?
Maura was concerned for his safety, he knew that without a doubt. It touched him deeply that she was willing to sacrifice her precious stallion for his sake. The trouble was, he wanted more from her. Much more.
Lying here with her now in the dim, predawn light, Ash could acknowledge that he’d crossed a final line last night. He had claimed Maura for his own, with no regrets for any potential consequences. Their joining had felt like a true mating, at least on his part. As far as he was concerned, they were irrevocably bound together.
He was loath to leave her now. He relished waking by Maura’s side, reveled in her sweet passion and the incredible pleasure she gave him.
Putting duty before pleasure, however, Ash silently untangled himself from her warm body and eased from the bed. For a moment as he stood gazing, gazing down at her beautiful face in the faint light, that powerful, familiar sense of possessiveness and protectiveness welled up inside him.
Quelling the urge to caress her soft cheek, Ash picked up his clothing from the previous evening and carried the bundle to his dressing room, where he quietly lit a lamp. He checked his pocket watch and noted the time was just after five A.M. More than an hour before he was to meet Deering for their duel.
He dressed and shaved. Then, needing sustenance, Ash went downstairs to the kitchens to raid the pantry for breakfast. He surprised a sleepy scullery maid who was stoking the fire in the hearth. After eating a cold but hearty meal of beef and bread, Ash spent the next half hour in his study, putting some final affairs in order and penning instructions for his family in the event of his hopefully unlikely demise.
When the time drew near, Ash moved to the entrance hall to await the carriage he had ordered for six o’clock. Quinn was to meet him at Granger Hill, so Ash intended to drive directly there. Frankly, he was surprised that his carriage was not already standing at the curb. The footman on duty in the hall had no idea what was taking so long, either.
When five more minutes had passed, Ash felt himself growing impatient, especially since he worried that Maura would wake and come downstairs before he could make his escape. Deciding he would be wiser to depart now, he proceeded to the rear of the house and let himself out.
By then the morning had grown light enough that he didn’t need a lantern as he strode down the path to the mews beyond the gardens. Oddly, though, the carriage house was dark, and while the wide doors were open, Ash could detect no sounds of activity from within. Stranger still, he could see that his team of chestnuts was harnessed to his coach, but when he entered the carriage house, there was no sign of his coachman or grooms or stable lads.
“Tom?” Ash called out, but received only silence to his query. His servants were superbly trained and rarely slack in their duties, so their disappearance was not only puzzling but disquieting.
He repeated his coachman’s name more loudly, and this time heard a soft groan in reply. His instincts for danger now on full alert, Ash took another step, just as a dark shape came barreling at him across the passageway.
The attack caught Ash off guard, and it took him more than a second to react. He felt himself being shoved to the cobblestone pavement, the breath knocked from his lungs. Rolling, he struggled to his feet just in time to ward off a savage blow from a night watchman’s baton.
His assailant must have been lying in wait, Ash realized as he tried again to defend himself from the swinging club. When he regained his balance, he lunged forward in a surprise offensive. A lucky blow from his fist managed to knock the lout down, but then another one immediately took his place and was quickly joined by a third.