He penetrated me with a single, forceful
movement. “Be quiet and think of England.”
As I relished the stretching sensation his shaft created
inside me, his advice made me frown. “God, why?”
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What followed was, like our fi rst time together in his
gardens, utterly astonishing to me. Dredmore moved
in me with what should have been the most basic of
motions, pressing deep, dragging out, and then forging
back in. Magic was made from the delicious friction
involved, perhaps, or the way my body responded, rather
like a mad creature on its own. I could not keep my hands
from him as the pleasure built between us, and the damp
sounds of our coupling grew louder and faster and wetter.
Dredmore seemed equally undone; he bent his head
to alternate between kissing my mouth and sucking at
my breasts, while I scored his shoulders with my nails
and pressed my lips to his chest. Th e room seemed to
dim as the ache inside me swelled, tormented now by the
hard thrusts of his shaft into me. I could feel the heat we
stoked growing liquid and spreading out, melding us in
our frantic movements.
I found I could not wait for him as I hurtled through
the dark and shattered under him, my whole being
consumed by the delight of it. Distantly I heard his voice,
rough and shaking as he jerked atop me, and the luscious
pulse of his seed jetting and fl ooding my clenching
sheath.
I murmured some nonsense, holding him fast to me
as we drifted together, bound by body and heart. Now I
understood why women could not resist men; they were
our physical completion.
Dredmore eventually withdrew from me, turning onto
his side and gathering me against him. He seemed to
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LYNN VIEHL
take quite a long time studying my face. “What are you
thinking?”
“If someone had come in,” I answered truthfully, “I
think I would have killed them. Th at and we should never
play cards.”
He nodded slowly and brushed some hair back from
my eyes. “I should like to spend the next week in this bed
with you, but we must go.”
I recalled the unfortunate aftermath of our fi rst
lovemaking and gave him a narrow look. “To where,
exactly?”
“A place safer than this.” He propped himself up on
one elbow. “Th ere is something I have to show you.”
I glanced down. “I believe I have seen everything you
have now.”
“Th is you have not.” He rose from the bed and off ered
me his hand. “Come.”
I went to the armoire and found a reasonably decent
dark blue gown with white braided trim, and after
washing up at the basin in the corner I dressed in it.
Dredmore came to button up the back for me and draped
his cloak over my shoulders, pulling up the hood to
conceal my head. “Stay behind me on the way out, and
don’t say a word to anyone.”
“If you’re thinking of imprisoning me again,” I told
him, “you’ll lose more than a horse this time.” Which
made me think. “Someone will see us leave the house.
Walsh will know you have me.”
“Of course he will,” Dredmore said as he led me to
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the door and opened it a gap to look through and check
the hallway.
I frowned. “You want him to come after you for saving me.”“I want him to believe I did my job.” He glanced back
at me. “Last night he hired me to kill you.”
“I see.” His confession struck me hard, and left me
feeling numb and daft, as if he’d already shoved a dagger
between my ribs. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was too busy making arrangements to get you out of
the country.” He saw my face and took my cold hands in
his. “I intended to tell you when I returned this morning,
only to fi nd you’d escaped right back into Walsh’s hands.”
“You might have said something last night.” But
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