Page 21 of Devil at the Gates
Harriet thought again of the contrasting portraits in the hall, the beautiful angelic brother and the duke, who seemed unremarkable by comparison at first. But now it became clear how handsome he truly was. The intelligence in his eyes, the compassion in his features, and the hard-won smiles that seem to burn her body hotter than any of the fires in the great marble hearth behind them. She wanted to know him, to feel that she could call him a friend.
“My family has lived here for three hundred years. We were given these lands by Queen Elizabeth when my ancestors did her a great service. My grandmother told me that the queen even visited us once and stayed in the Pearl Room where you sleep now. We thrive on the wealth of the tenant properties to the north and on investments I made twelve years ago in shipping companies that sail out of Dover. It was how I knew the port would close due to the storms.”
“And your family? I know your wife and brother are gone, but what about your parents?”
“My mother died a few weeks after giving birth to Thomas. He was two years younger than me. My father followed her six years later. I was raised to the title of a duke at a very young age and had the help of my father’s steward, Mr. Shelton, who resides in London most of the year to look after the estate’s interests there.” He paused and then squeezed her hand.
“I knew your father, Harriet, though only briefly. He trained me and Thomas one summer when I was just out of university. I liked him very much. I didn’t meet your mother, and I am sorry for that.” His melancholy smile softened. “If I had continued to work with him, I might have met you. Perhaps I am a villain.” He said this last more quietly to himself.
“Why?” She didn’t understand.
He looked to her now with a mix of determination and uncertainty. “Because I want you, Harriet. I want things I have no right to have.”
She wet her lips with her tongue, afraid and excited all at once. She understood what he meant, but her only experience with desire had been her stepfather’s predatory gazes. Redmond was nothing like George, and her body seemed to recognize that.
“That makes you human, Red. We all…want things.” Her eyes focused on his lips. For all of his hardness and intimidation that night they first met, his lips had remained soft, inviting, even mocking at times, but their sensual promise had never left them.
“I have a tenuous grip on my lust, Harriet. But I could manage one kiss, if you have no objections.”
She didn’t have a single one. She leaned closer to him as he cupped the back of her neck and lowered his head to hers. She surrendered to the dangerous promise of life-altering passion he carried with him wherever he went. The desire inside her grew so strong it almost felt like a fury.
Heat uncurled in her abdomen, and she moaned as he parted her lips and his tongue flicked against hers. She hadn’t known a kiss could be like this. She felt as though she could leap from the cliffs of Dover, spread her arms, and find white feathered wings that would carry her away upon the winds.
Redmond placed his other hand on her leg, raising her skirts above her knees. She whimpered as he met the bare skin of her inner thighs and tickled her with gentle, exploring fingers. Heat built within her womb, and wetness pooled between her thighs. He deepened the kiss, leaning more over her, and she leaned back in her chair as he continued to touch her.
“I want to devour you,” he breathed against her lips. She didn’t fully understand his intentions until he pulled her up to her feet and set her on top of the dining room table. The two footmen in the corner of the room scurried out into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
“Red, what are you?”
He silenced her with another kiss. His hands roamed over her body, skimming over her hips. She wanted to feel his palms all over her, touching her in places that seemed to awaken with newly found desires. Harriet sighed against his lips as he held her close, capturing her as he wound his arms around her back, yet she didn’t want to be anywhere else in that moment.
“I want you, Harriet. I want to drown in your eyes,” he murmured between slow, drugging kisses that made her body sing.
She clutched at his shoulders, feeling his strong, hard muscles beneath her hands. “I want…you too.” The heat of his body seeped through the fabric of his shirt.
“Then trust…trust me to give you what you need.”
She nodded, and he stole another lingering kiss. Then he lifted her skirts up to her waist, before he lowered her back to lie on the table. Then he bent over her prone body. The wine she’d had with dinner made her dizzy in a good way as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh and then set his mouth over the most sensitive part of her. If she hadn’t been so full of need for his touch, she would have been shocked at the scandalous position they now found themselves in, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She never wanted him to stop what he was doing.
Anticipation pulsed through her as she watched the wicked duke do exactly as he’d promised—give her what she needed. His tongue flitted out against her sensitive folds, and she gasped and moaned and writhed. She closed her eyes and gave over to the sensations of Redmond’s mouth on her. His tongue and lips kept her his sweet prisoner as he tortured her.
A building need that she’d never experienced before sent her breath into fast pants, and her vision spiraled. His lips found the small bud of desire within her and sucked on it. She screamed. Pleasure like she’d never felt, frightening and dizzy, hit her like lightning, and her back arched beneath him. His soft laughter cooled her hot flesh as he teased her with his mouth, and then he stroked his hands down her outer thighs and pulled her dress back down. She lay still on her back, panting and trying to understand what had just happened.
“If you”—she breathed hard—“are a villain for that, I may well play your victim anytime you desire.”
He laughed and helped her to sit up. She suddenly felt very shy, open, and vulnerable after experiencing such violent pleasure, but he did not give her time to be nervous. He scooped her up in his arms, and they left the dining room. She curled her arms around his neck, taking in his rich scent. She bit her lip to hide a smile at feeling so protected by a man who’d just devoured her in one scandalous moment. He carried her up the stairs to the library, where they settled into an overlarge chair by a healthy crackling fire. He kept her close to him, and she tucked her head beneath his chin as they listened to the logs pop and snap in the hearth.
“You are very brave.” He kissed the crown of her hair. “Very brave indeed.”
Part of her was still reeling from the pleasure she’d felt in the dining room, but she wanted to speak honestly with him, this man who was in so many ways still a stranger.
“And you are wonderful, Red. Wonderful.” She wished he could understand that he had given her a precious gift tonight.
He had stripped away her fear of desire. He had shown her that such intimacy could feel good, could feel safe and yet exciting. It wasn’t always frightening, wasn’t always fierce looks and greedy hands in the dark. She had the sudden desire to tell him that she wanted to stay here forever, to never sail to Calais, but she couldn’t…not unless he asked her to. So instead she breathed and relaxed into him until she fell asleep in the arms of the Devil of Dover.
7
“Harriet…” That ethereal voice drew her from sleep again. She opened her eyes and saw lightning flash against the windowpanes. The lamp on the side table burned low, illuminating the pearl-adorned curtains. She was in the Pearl Room, wearing a sheer nightgown of fine silk.
