Passion for the Game(26)
Author: Sylvia Day

“Later,” she moaned, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Later,” he agreed in that raspy bedroom voice. “Now look at me when you come. I want to see how much you like it when I make you cli**x this way.”

Forcing her eyes to open, Maria was startled by the tenderness on his features. His hair was disheveled, softening his look further. She cupped her swol en, aching br**sts, kneading them to relieve her torment.

He plunged deep, rubbed inside her, retreated. Thrust and withdrawal, in and out.

“Please,” she whispered, writhing. fall ing.

“Beggars we are when it comes to each other.” He kissed her, a soft sweet kiss so at odds with the base pumping of his fingers. He lifted his head, pressed his thumb into her clitoris in a circular rubbing motion, and watched her orgasm with a cry of his name. Watched her shudder violently as her cunt convulsed around his fingers. Watched her fall all the way down.

Then he caught her. Held her. Tucked her against him.

And slept.

Amelia hurried over the fence and ran to the stream. Ware faced the river, his hands clasped at his back, waiting for her.

“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly, coming to a stop beside him.

He turned to her slowly, his gaze raking her from head to toe. “You failed to meet me yesterday,” he said.

She blushed, memories of Colin’s desperate kisses making her heart race. “I was detained. I feel terrible.”

“You do not appear as though you feel terrible. Your eyes are bright and happy.”

Unsure of what to say, she shrugged lamely.

Ware waited a moment and then offered her his arm. “Will you tel me about whatever it is that has made you glow?”

“Probably not.”

He laughed, then winked at her, the friendly gesture relieving her immeasurably. She had worried about possible awkwardness between them. She

was grateful to find that there wasn’t any.

They strol ed leisurely along the bank until they arrived at their previous picnic spot. Once again, a blanket waited in the midst of the lovely view. The shal ow stream rushed over the smooth river rock in a delightful melody. The air was fil ed with the scent of meadow grass and wildflowers, and her skin warmed in the dappled sunlight.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked as she settled onto the blanket with a shy smile, her hands nervously smoothing the skirts of her white gown.

“Disappointed slightly,” he drawled, shrugging out of his mustard-colored coat. “But not angry, no. I do believe it would be impossible to be cross with you.”

“Others seem to find no trouble with it.”

“More fool they. It’s much preferable to be in charity with you.” He sprawled across the blanket on his side, his head resting in his hand.

“If I begged a favor from you,” she asked softly, “would you try to grant it?”

“Of course,” he murmured, studying her.

He was always studying her. Sometimes she felt as if he was examining her even when he wasn’t looking directly at her. She seemed to be a source of great interest to him, though she had yet to discern why.

Reaching into her reticule, she withdrew the letter she had drafted to Maria. “I would like you to post this for me. I’m afraid I lack her direction. But she is quite infamous, and it should not be too difficult to find her. Also, would you mind terribly if she were to reply to you?”

Ware reached out for the missive and gazed down at her handwriting. “The notorious Lady Winter.” Glancing back up at her with an arched brow, he said, “I pray you will indulge me with the answers to some questions.”

Amelia nodded. “Of course. Anyone would be curious.”

“First, why ask me to post this instead of managing the task yourself?”

“I am not all owed to correspond with anyone,” she explained. “Even discourse with Lord Welton must be done through my governess.”

“I find that quite alarming,” he said, his tone low and more serious than she had ever heard it. In truth, she had almost thought that Ware was never anything but mildly amused by circumstances around him. “I also dislike the look of the men who patrol the borders of the property. Tel me, Amelia.

Are you a prisoner there?”

Taking a deep breath, she decided to tel her friend all that she knew. He listened attentively, as he always did, as if every word that left her mouth was of the utmost importance. She adored him for that.

By the time she finished her short tale, Ware was seated cross-legged before her, his blue eyes intense and the line of his mouth somber. “Have

you never considered fleeing?”

Amelia blinked and then looked down at her intertwined hands. “Once or twice,” she admitted. “But truly, I am not maltreated. The servants are kind to me, my governesses gentle and even tempered. I have lovely gowns and proper schooling. What would I do, if I were to leave? Where would I go? How foolish would I be to set out on my own with no destination and no means of support?”

She shrugged and looked up at him again. “If my father is correct about my sister, then he is only protecting me.”

“You do not believe that,” the earl said gently, setting his hand atop of hers, “or you would not ask me to post this for you.”

“Wouldn’t you be curious?” she asked, genuinely seeking his counsel.

“Of course, but then I am a curious fel ow.”

“Well, I am a curious female.”

His blue eyes smiled. “Very Well, my fair princess. I will humbly manage this task for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then, embarrassed at her exuberance, she recoiled, blushing.

Ware, however, had a soft smile on his aristocratic features. “Not the kiss I was hoping for,” he murmured. “But it will do.”

Chapter 18

Simon situated himself against the padded headboard and reached for the glass of wine that rested on the small table by the bed. His skin was heated by his exertions, so he ignored the linens and all owed the occasional breeze from the nearby open sash to cool him.

His throat worked with a large swal ow, then he glanced down at the pretty blonde beside him with a lazy smile. “A drink, Amy?” he asked solicitously.

“Um.” The girl sat up, revealing small but nicely curved br**sts, and accepted the proffered glass.

“So tel me more,” he murmured, studying her careful y beneath heavy-lidded eyes, “about this secret panel in Lord Sedgewick’s house.”

Amy swal owed the fine beverage with an unschooled gulp that made him wince inwardly. “’e uses it to ’ide ’is liquor.”

“His contraband liquor.”

“Aye.”

“And access can be gained near the coal chute?”

She nodded, her curls swaying around her appealing features. “Makes the deliveries simpler. You won’t steal it, will you?”

“Of course not,” he soothed. “I simply find the idea quite clever and may implement something similar in my own home.”

Simon dipped his finger into the glass, then painted the maid’s pretty mouth with it. She flushed, her gaze darting to where his semierect c*ck lay against his thigh. “We will return to that in a moment,” he murmured, hiding a smile at how easy she was to distract.

Her lower lip thrust out in a pout.

“When does he receive call ers?”

“Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to six.”

He smiled. Once he finished here, he would visit the space and ascertain whether it was possible to hear clearly through the wal s or not. If so, he would schedule a man to sit in that spot every Tuesday and Thursday in the hopes of learning more about the viscount. There was a reason

Sedgewick had approached Maria at the masquerade, and Simon would learn of it.

But first he had to finish his business here.

He set aside his glass and glanced at Amy with a seductive smile. She shivered and lay back down quickly.

Ah, it is a strenuous job, he thought with an inner grin.

Then he set to work.

Amelia was so excited about the letter to Maria that she practical y skipped through the trees toward the house. For the first time, she felt as if she was actively working toward something. She had a goal, and she had set in motion the steps required to achieve it. Lost in the heady excitement of that, she was once again caught off guard by grasping arms, but her startled cry was smothered by a warm, passionate mouth and her protest instantly turned into a plaintive moan.

“Colin,” she breathed with her eyes closed and her lips curved in a smile.

“Tel me you didn’t kiss him,” he said gruffly, both of his powerful arms banded around her waist and lower back.

“Tel me I am not dreaming,” she murmured, fil ed with pure pleasure at being near her love again.

“It would be better if you were,” he said, releasing her with a sigh.

Opening her eyes, Amelia noted his frown and the harshly set line of his sensual lips. “Why are you so determined to feel so terrible about something so wonderful?”

His lips curved rueful y. “Sweet Amelia,” he murmured, cupping her face. His overly long hair fel over his brow, framing those dark eyes she adored.

“Because sometimes it’s better to not know what you’re missing. Then you can tel yourself that it wouldn’t have been as wonderful as you thought.

But once you know it, you can’t help but pine for it.”

“Will you pine for me?” she asked, her heart fluttering at the thought.

“Selfish girl.”

“I have been wretched over you.”

His eyes closed and he kissed her softly. “Tel me you didn’t kiss him.”

“Colin, have you no faith in me?” Rising to her tiptoes, she rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “I simply asked him for a favor.”

“What favor?” he asked crossly.

“I asked him to post a letter to my sister for me.”

He stil ed. “What?” He waved his hand around them. “Al of this is to keep her away from you.”

“I need to know her.” She pushed away from him and crossed her arms stubbornly.

“No, you don’t. Jesus.” Colin growled and set his hands on his hips. “You’re always finding some mischief or another.”

With his exotic handsomeness and tendency to brood, he looked divine to Amelia. She sighed with deep infatuation. That only made his scowl deepen. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered.

“Like what?”

He pointed a finger at her. “Like that!”

“I love you,” she explained with all the girlish adoration she held for him in her heart. “It’s the only way I know how to look at you.”

His jaw tightened.

“I so missed how protective you are,” she said softly, her fingers linking together before her.

“That’s exasperation,” he corrected.

“Well, you would not become exasperated if you weren’t protective.”

Shaking his head, Colin moved away and took a seat on a stump. Around them, birds twittered softly and the discarded leaves on the ground rustled with the occasional breeze. Over the years they’d played in many forests and across many beaches, and run across countless miles of wild grasses. And wherever they were, she had felt safe because Colin was with her.

“Why didn’t you ask me to post it for you, instead of Lord Ware?”

“I hope for a reply and it cannot come here. I needed his assistance both in the sending and receiving.” She stopped dead in her tracks when she noted that he had dropped his head in his hands. “What is it?”

She dropped to her knees before him, uncaring of her white gown. “Tel me,” she urged when he held his silence.

He looked at her. “There will always be things that I can’t give you that men like Ware can.”

“What things?” she asked. “Pretty dresses and hair ribbons?”

“Horses, manors, servants like me,” he bit out.

“None of that has ever made me happy.” Setting her small hands on his broad shoulders, she pressed an ardent kiss to his mouth. “Except for the servant like you, and you know I have never thought of you as inferior to me.”

“Because you live a sheltered life, Amelia. If you were shown the world at large, you would see how things real y are.”

“I do not care what other people think, as long as you love me.”

“I can’t love you,” he whispered, his hands lifting to circle her wrists and pul her arms down. “Don’t ask me to.”

“Colin.” Suddenly she felt like the older one, the one whose task it was to comfort and protect. “You break my heart. But even in pieces, it has enough love for both of us.”

Cursing softly, Colin seized her and said with his kisses what he would not say aloud.

Maria relaxed in the tub with her eyes closed, her neck resting against the rounded lip. Tonight she would go to Christopher and tel him about

Amelia and Welton. She would tel him about Eddington, too, and together they would find a solution for their problems. Although it had taken her a few days to come to this decision, she knew in her heart it was the right one.

She sighed and slipped deeper into the warm water. Low male voices were heard in the gal ery, then the door to the bedroom opened, followed by the door to her bathing chamber.

“You have been gone all day, Simon love,” she murmured.

She heard him pul a chair closer and then he sat heavily. It was that and the deep breath he took, as if fortifying himself for some onerous task, that alerted her. Opening her eyes, she saw his grave features, so different from the merry charm he usual y displayed.

“What is it?”

Simon leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his gaze intent. “You remember I told you about Lord Sedgewick’s hidden liquor space?

Today he had a visitor who imparted information that sheds light on his activities.”