Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

“I want you madly.” She strained against him. “I want you now.”


“Thank God.” He cupped his hand around her bottom and held her as he fitted himself against her and pushed home. Cleo made a faint gasp of delight and surprise. It felt so good, so right, to have him inside her. She tightened her grip on his neck and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. Every nerve felt alive as he held her so easily, so securely, so intimately. He seemed as moved as she was. His chest heaved and his arms trembled. “At last,” she thought he whispered, and then he began to move.

Whatever making love against a door might lack in finesse and comfort, Cleo thought she might prefer it to any other kind. She curled herself around Gareth, meeting each hard thrust with a little arch of her back. He held her easily, he knew right where to touch her, and when it all culminated in a fierce climax, she almost burst into tears. Gareth caught his breath and rested his forehead against hers as his hips jerked a few more times in his own release, and then he kissed her, leisurely and thoroughly.

And then there came a soft tap at the door. Cleo started in spite of the hazy contentment that enveloped her. She could feel the knock through the wood at her back, and the thought of what the person on the other side would think, if he knew what was just inches from him, made laughter bubble up in her throat. Lips pressed shut to hold it back, she looked up at Gareth, her eyes tearing.

He grinned lazily down at her. “Yes?” he called.

There was a pause, then the butler’s voice came through the door, low and rushed, as if he were whispering through the crack of the doorjamb. “Your Grace, Mr. Blair wishes to see you at once.”

The laughter stuck in her throat died. Cleo didn’t move, her fingers clenching in the folds of Gareth’s shirt. Mr. Blair had returned, which meant Helen must have as well.

Oh, Lord.

Gareth just kept smiling down at her. “Does he? Excellent. Where is he waiting?”

“In the stables, Your Grace. With Miss Grey.”

“Ah. Tell them I shall be with them directly.”

“Yes, sir.” Cleo could hear his footsteps faintly, going down the hall. Gareth still wore the slight grin of a cat who knew where the cream was hidden, and she didn’t know why. Part of her longed to run out to the stables and hug Helen close before shaking her and demanding an explanation, and part of her didn’t want to face her sister for years. She had just made love to her sister’s fiancé. Even though Helen hadn’t wanted to marry him, she might still be shocked and horrified to hear how quickly he had turned to Cleo.

And now there wasn’t much time for her to talk to Gareth before facing Helen. What did he want from her? Making love was one thing, but there were no promises between them. Cleo wanted more. She didn’t want to give him up to anyone, ever again.

She wet her lips. He was still inside her, his hand still curved around her hip. With a little wriggle, she unhooked her leg from around his, easing her weight back to the ground. With a soft sigh, he slid free of her, his hands steadying her waist as her knees wobbled. She smiled uneasily, smoothing down the skirts of her gown as Gareth repaired his own clothing. She wasn’t sure she could stand under her own power. Even now, aftershocks of pleasure left her muscles lax.

“Cleo.” His hand cupped her face, making her look at him. Gareth smiled. “You look so grim, darling. Was I that rough?”

Her mouth fell open. “No! You know you weren’t. It was wonderful. But Gareth—” He cut her off with a long kiss, and when he lifted his head Cleo had forgotten what she’d been saying.

“All will be well,” he said. “Trust me.” She gazed up at him, afraid to ask. “You look as though a great problem troubles you,” he added.

She was surprised into a weak laugh. “A great problem! This is a rather out-of-the-ordinary problem, I think….”

“Yes, I might have ruined this gown beyond repair.” He gave it a frown. “Although it’s not my favorite.”

She blushed. “My mother chose it.”

“No wonder,” he muttered. “I won’t apologize for ripping it, then.” Still, he turned her around and fastened what buttons remained. “Will you come with me? I expect your sister will want to see you.”

“What are you going to say to them?” she asked softly. His fingers moving so gently over her back had sapped her will to argue.

“I think your sister and my cousin explained themselves very well in the notes they left. I can’t think what they might have to add to that.”

Cleo blinked and whirled around. “Your cousin left you a note as well?”

“He did.”

“Then you knew before I told you that Helen had run off?”

“I did.”

“You might have told me,” she protested.

He grinned. “But I desperately wanted comforting, darling.” He kissed her. “Let’s go see what they have to tell us, shall we?”





Chapter Eleven