The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie
The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie(83)
Author: Jennifer Ashley
Violet would miss them.
She sat up, reached for matches, and lit the candle in the old-fashioned chamber stick on her bed table. Tomorrow, she was leaving the shelter of this house for the world again, and the world was a dangerous place.
It’s best to face something head on, smash it, and move on with your life, Daniel had said the day he’d first taken her out on Medusa. Lingering and wondering, waiting and worrying . . . that kills you.
He was right, and not just about Violet facing her past. She needed to face her present too.
Violet thrust her feet into slippers, opened the door of her room, and ventured into the corridor. She nearly tripped over Venus, who panted up at her, tail thumping.
“Shh.” Violet put her finger to her lips, then reached down, her long braid falling over her shoulder, and patted the dog. Venus yawned noisily and got up to follow Violet.
The house had two long wings. The wide upstairs hall ran from one wing into the staircase hall, down a half flight of stairs, and up another half flight to the other wing of the house. Violet had been put in the guest wing, opposite the one that contained Daniel’s room. She knew exactly which was Daniel’s room, though, because she’d made it her business to know.
Silently Violet picked her way across the dark landing, her single candle lighting the way. She’d come to learn that one of the boards creaked in the middle of the landing—she avoided it.
Venus followed, her nails clicking when they left rugs for bare floor. Outside Daniel’s door, Venus sat down on her haunches and looked at Violet expectantly, tail moving.
“I need to go in alone,” Violet whispered. She might be ridiculous explaining things to a dog, but she felt the need to. Venus looked up at her in seeming understanding.
Violet opened the door and slipped inside the room. Venus gave a resigned sigh and lay down in the hall as Violet shut the door.
Daniel’s chamber was large and dark, the fire burning in the grate not as high as the fire in Violet’s room. The flickering light showed a large, low-post bed against one wall, with a lump of blankets on it. From the lump came a very distinctive snore.
Violet had to smile, though her lips were stiff with fear. She crept forward, stepping carefully so as not to trip on a corner of the carpet, or a discarded boot, or perhaps another dog . . . She put to use her experience moving through the dark at her mother’s séances to glide noiselessly to the bed.
Violet raised her candle. She had a moment of watery fear, worrying she’d gotten the room wrong, then the candlelight fell on Daniel’s face.
He’d pushed the covers half off him and lay with his chest exposed. He’d been wearing a nightshirt, but sometime in the night had dragged it off and tossed it to the floor. The rest of the covers were mounded over his legs, dipping across his hips.
Daniel’s face was rough with new beard, his hair sticking up on the pillow. His eyes were closed, lips parted, and again came the snore.
Violet stood gazing down on him, unable to move. Daniel was a beautiful man, carved flesh and bone, well muscled from his athletic and frenzied pace of life. Violet couldn’t compare him to a god because he was so wonderfully human. Daniel was of the earth, and Violet was glad of it.
Wax dropped from the candle to splash on the sheet. Violet quickly blew out the candle, set it on the bedside table, and reached down to shake Daniel’s shoulder.
A grunt came from Daniel’s lips, but he didn’t wake. Violet shook him again. She tried to say his name, but no sound would come from her mouth.
A hot hand suddenly closed around her wrist. Daniel grunted again as he peeled open his eyes, the amber glint of them catching in the firelight.
The grunt dissolved into Mmm. “What a nice dream.” Daniel gave Violet a slow smile, his grip not loosening. “It stays even when I wake up.”
“D—” The word stuck fast in Violet’s throat.
Daniel’s fingers softened on her, and he tucked his other hand behind his head. “Are you walking in your sleep? Or am I still dreaming?”
Violet swallowed. Her mouth was still too dry, and she coughed. Daniel didn’t rush her. His hold turned to a caress, fingertips brushing the inside of her wrist.
Violet forced out the words in a hurried rush. “Daniel, I want to be your lover.”
“I didn’t think ye’d run in here in the dead of night to discuss your accounts.” Daniel’s brows drew down. “Ye didn’t, did ye?”
“Don’t tease.” She could barely breathe.
Daniel caressed her again, his touch burning. “I can’t help myself. I’m a wicked man.” In spite of his glib words, a guarded light lingered in his eyes.
“I’m wicked too,” Violet said. “I want this. I’m afraid, but I want this with you.” In case I never have another chance. “I want to be your lover. Entirely.”
Another caress as Daniel’s chest rose sharply. “Are ye sure?”
“Very sure.” Violet knew she should do something seductive—sit on the bed, touch him, flirt with him—anything but stand there like a frozen statue. “Please, Daniel. Before I can’t.”
Daniel studied her a moment longer, his fingers moving gently on her wrist. “If I were a stronger man, I’d send you away. Virtuously. For your own good. And mine.” Daniel released her, reached up, closed his hand around the lace of her nightgown, and pulled her down to him. “But I’m not.”
Chapter 27
Firelight kissed Daniel’s body as he pulled Violet close. He did it gently, not forcing, his grip light. Violet knew she could get away if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. Not this time.
Daniel tugged her down until she lay on him, the barrier of covers between them, propped up on her hands so she didn’t come down on his bare chest. He let go of the nightgown to loosen its buttons—one, two, three, four, five. Daniel kept his gaze on Violet’s face as he loosened the placket enough for him to brush his hand inside.
Warm, rough-skinned fingers lifted the weight of her breast. Violet remained frozen, her hands on the mattress shaking with her weight. Daniel drew his hand over her breast, fingers closing over her nipple, which was already tight.
Daniel withdrew from the nightdress. Violet wanted to grab his hand and put it back inside, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t certain what she should do, how to proceed. Daniel had been so tender with her in Marseille, but they’d never completed the act. She didn’t know what was expected, or whether Daniel would simply pin her down and have her. Perhaps that was the usual method.