“If that maggot of a gang boss had succeeded, I might have never known what became of you, might have always wondered why you just... left. I have few people in this world about whom I care. Unfortunately, Marcus Stanwick, you’ve become one of them. Please have the decency to at least leave me a note.”
“What makes you think I didn’t?”
She blinked, studied him, blinked again. “Did you?”
The hope in her voice made him wish he could provide her with a different answer. “No.” And he would have regretted it with his last breath. To have left her wondering, when he knew what it was to have no answers to another’s actions.
“Well, at least you’re honest.”
“And you, Esme, are you honest, honest with me? Did you kiss me in order to feel alive?”
“I kissed you because I couldn’t not.”
“Then kiss me again.” Wrapping his hand gently around her upper arm, he drew her nearer, grateful she came willingly. “Kiss me again,” he rasped, pleaded.
Her mouth was on his before he had a chance to drop to his knees and beg. For this woman, he would have. As she entwined her arms around his neck, he enfolded her in his embrace, pressing her body against his, aware of her softness against his hardness. She did nothing in half measures. With fiery passion, she swept her tongue through his mouth, as he took the opportunity to explore hers. She tasted of dark scotch and wicked intentions, and he knew their night was not going to end here with this kiss. He’d wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her stride into this room, so confident and cocksure. Not only had she taken ownership of this room, but somehow, against his will, she’d taken ownership of him.
She—bold and daring perfection—didn’t protest when he lifted her into his arms. He broke offthe kiss and held her heated gaze for all of two seconds before striding from the room.
“Your shoulder—”
“Was kissed by an angel and is healing miraculously.”
She buried her face in the curve of his neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin beneath his jaw. “I’m hardly an angel.”
“I’m not going to argue semantics.” Reaching the stairs, he started up the steps.
“We should go to your chamber,” she said quietly, almost shyly. “Laddie isn’t particularly mannered when it comes to sharing me.”
His low chuckle echoed between the walls. “He and I are of a like mind then, because I’m a beast when it comes to sharing.”
She licked around the shell of his ear, and his knees went weak, before she whispered, “I’ve wanted you for a while now.”
“Then tonight you shall have me.”
Chapter 15
While excitement and an anticipatory thrill coursed through her, Esme understood that being intimate with Marcus might be unwise and put a strain on their working together further, but she craved his kisses and touches as she did air.
When she’d entered that warehouse-like structure and seen him surrounded, terror had struck at her very heart and soul. She’d have destroyed them all to save him. Would have seen them all in hell if he’d died. The enormity of her feelings for him at that moment had nearly overwhelmed her. To think she might have lost him completely without ever having known him fully, to have never shared intimacy, to have never shown him what she felt for him... she’d have lived the remainder of her life with regret.
She wouldn’t give voice to the words she was feeling because she was well aware their timetogether would be a fleeting thing. When they achieved their goal, they would part ways, with only the memories of their time together to remain. They would be enough. She would make them be enough.
He carried her into his bedchamber, kicked the door closed in his wake, and marched over to the bed where a servant had lit a solitary lamp. After setting her on her feet, he reached over and turned up the flame to increase the glow, so it washed over both of them. While she’d have preferred the darkness, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see him in all his naked glory. Besides, he knew of her scars. They weren’t likely to take him by surprise and cause revulsion.
After shrugging out of his coat and tossing it to the floor, he unfastened her pelisse and cast it aside. With his large, roughened hands, he cradled her face and held her gaze. “You are a remarkable woman, Esme Lancaster.”
“Then kiss me.”
His grin was the sort that caused women to completely lose their heads and tumble willingly into beds. The sort that seduced, yet she was already seduced. But still he revealed his pleasure at her words. Then his mouth captured hers with an urgency and rapaciousness that she wasn’t quite certain she’d ever had any other man direct her way. Oh, certainly she’d enjoyed enthusiastic partners, but she’d never been left with the sense that she was their complete focus, a thirst they could not quench, a hunger they could not satiate.That she and she alone was all that mattered in the world at that moment.
The residence could burn down around them, and he’d not notice. Neither would she.
She’d never felt so empowered. Good Lord, was this what it was like to be a queen, so adored, so worshipped?
Only she didn’t want to be on a pedestal alone, not without him there beside her. Therefore, she kissed him back with equal zeal, single-mindedness, and attention. He was the only man in her life of any significance. She poured all of her regard for him into the kiss, taking immense satisfaction in his resounding growl and the tightening of his arms around her.
Through their clothes, she could feel the warmth of him but wanted the heat of his flesh pressed directly to her skin, branding her as his. She worked her hands between them and began freeing the buttons of his shirt, completing only half the task before he broke away, reached back, and dragged the shirt over his head. It went the way of his coat.
