Tall, Dark & Irresistible: The Rogue's Disgraced Lady

Juliet froze as she became aware of bare flesh beneath her cheek.

Arms like steel bands were about her, holding her so tightly she could not break free.

Crestwood!

He was here. In her bedchamber. And if he was here it could mean only one thing!

She could not bear it. Not again. Never again could she lie unmoving, silent, while he—

No, Crestwood was not here!

He could not be here.

Crestwood was dead ….

Then who was holding her so tightly?

The skin Juliet felt beneath her breast was smooth and deeply muscled, rather than pale and lined, with no sign of that flabbiness of flesh she had become used to in a man thirty years her senior, and the softness of hair that covered this chest and stomach was dark rather than coarsely grey.

Juliet raised her gaze almost fearfully to the firmness of jaw, and above chiselled lips, a long aquiline nose, high cheekbones, eyes the colour of honey, and dark hair shot through with gold in rumpled disarray onto the broadness of those wide shoulders.

‘Lord St Claire!’ she gasped in recognition, even as she attempted to pull away from him. His arms tightened to prevent her. ‘You must release me, My Lord!’ She breathed unevenly.

‘Why must I?’ His voice sounded dark and mesmerising in the silence of the bedchamber.

‘Because—because—you should not be here, Sebastian,’ Juliet whispered shakily. ‘Why did you come?’ She pulled back slightly to look into the brooding darkness of his face.

Such a handsome face. So sinfully, magnificently handsome …

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he looked into the deep green of Juliet’s eyes. ‘You do not remember, do you?’

Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. ‘Remember what, My Lord?’

‘You called me Sebastian just now,’ he reminded her huskily. ‘And I am here because you cried out loudly in your sleep and I heard you.’ His eyes narrowed as he saw the sudden wariness in her expression before her gaze dropped away from his. ‘Who did this to you, Juliet? Who has hurt you enough that you are plagued by nightmares that make you cry out even in sleep?’

Her face had been pale before, but now it grew even paler. ‘I do not know what you mean, My Lord—’

‘Do not lie to me, Juliet,’ he warned harshly, his hands grasping the tops of her arms as she would have pulled away from him. ‘Did Crestwood do this to you? Did he frighten you in some way? Is that why you—?’ He broke off, his jaw tight.

She raised startled eyes. ‘Why I what, Sebastian?’

She was so beautiful, so utterly desirable as Sebastian held her soft lushness in his arms, that he did not want to think of anything else—to see or feel anything but Juliet. At this moment she was all that mattered.

Juliet knew Sebastian was going to kiss her the moment she saw the hunger in his gaze as it dropped to the softness of her lips. Knew it. And craved it …

She had no memory of calling out in her sleep or of what she had said. But she could imagine what it might have been. She had been dreaming of Crestwood. Of how so often he had hurt her. How there had never been anyone there, ever, to stop him from hurting her.

Not so tonight. Tonight Sebastian St Claire was here. In her bedchamber. Not Lady Butler’s, as Juliet had imagined. And Juliet wanted him to hold her. To kiss her. To caress her. To block out and destroy for ever all those painful memories of Crestwood that so tormented and disturbed her.

‘Juliet …?’ St Claire groaned as she raised her lips willingly to his.

Such a strong and sensuous mouth as it claimed hers. His shoulders were hard and muscled beneath Juliet’s fingers as she clung to him. He felt so firm and smooth, and the muscles rippled beneath the warmth of his skin. Those muscles told her that no one would get past him, that if she wished it he would protect her.

Even from a ghost …

Her eyes closed and her lips parted willingly beneath the gentle sweep of his tongue. That tongue flicked lightly over her inner lip and the small ridge of her teeth before exploring further as it moved teasingly against hers.

Sebastian felt the leap of his body and the hardening of his thighs as Juliet’s tongue began a sensuous duel with his. Moving enticingly forward, before retreating, tempting him deeper still. Her warm curves pressed against him were driving him wild with desire, and he could hold back no longer as he thrust fully inside her mouth, to possess her with his tongue.

It was not enough. It would never be enough with this particular woman. Sebastian wanted all of her. Wanted every part of her to be his!

Even as his mouth continued to claim hers, he slipped the thin ribbon straps from her shoulders and down her arms, moving slightly to let the material fall down to her waist before he pulled her back against him, crushing her bared breasts against his chest. Such softness. Such warm, tempting softness. A softness Sebastian had so longed to touch, to kiss.

He moved one of his hands to cup beneath one of those gentle slopes, testing the weight of her breast against his palm, able to feel if not see the pout of her nipple. Knowing even as he ran the pad of his thumb against that pouting softness and felt it harden that he had to have it in his mouth so that he might pleasure her with his tongue.

Juliet felt bereft when Sebastian pulled his mouth from hers to look down at her with eyes of dark honey-gold that seemed to be asking her a question.

‘Do not stop, Sebastian,’ she pleaded huskily. ‘Please, do not stop!’

Whatever question had been in his eyes, she appeared to have answered it, and his gaze continued to hold hers as he lowered his head to place his caressing lips against the gentle curve between her neck and shoulder. Those lips were feather light as they moved lower. And then lower still.

Juliet gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she realised his destination. ‘Sebastian …?’

‘Let me, Juliet.’ He raised his head to take one of her hands in his and kiss the palm, before placing it down on the bed beside her and then doing the same with its twin. ‘I promise I will not hurt you.’ His eyes looked intently into hers. ‘I will never hurt you. Do you believe me?’

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, her eyes wide and apprehensive as she reached to clutch and pull the material of her nightgown up over the bareness of her breasts. ‘What—what are you going to do?’

‘Nothing you will not enjoy, I promise.’ He made no effort to touch her, to use physical coercion of any kind. ‘Do you trust me not to hurt you, Juliet?’

Did she trust him? If she said no would he stop now? If she said no at some later point would he still stop?

Sebastian could read the thoughts racing through Juliet’s mind. Could read them—and wanted to do physical harm to the man who had caused such apprehension inside her. Sebastian was convinced now that it had to have been Crestwood. Even Bancroft, suspicious and accusing, had agreed there had been no other man in Juliet’s life this last twelve years but her husband.

Damn Bancroft! Now was not the time to think of either the man or any of the things he had said to Sebastian this morning.

His hands moved up to gently frame either side of Juliet’s face.

‘Tonight is for you, Juliet. Only for you.’

Much as it might kill him, Sebastian meant to give this woman pleasure—as much pleasure as she could take—whilst taking nothing for himself but the knowledge of that pleasure. Whatever will-power it took, whatever he suffered later, Sebastian was determined to replace that look of fear on Juliet’s face, in the dark green depths of her eyes, with one of joy.

‘Juliet …?’ he prompted gruffly.

Juliet remained unmoving, not even breathing as she looked at him. Her gaze was seeking. Probing. Searching, no doubt, for any sign in his expression that said he lied. Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed and steady on hers.