into her hair and covered her face with tiny, frantic kisses.
“I need you …” He spoke hoarsely, the words torn from him. She had no idea of the depth of his longing and his desperation. She was the only light in his darkness and he knew he did not deserve her. Yet miraculously she was not going to turn him away. She lifted a hand to his cheek; her lashes fluttered, she smiled at him. Garrick felt as though a fist had smashed straight into his heart, transmuting his raw hunger into something far more frightening and profound.
He held her for a moment longer, his face pressed against her hair, shudders convulsing him deep inside. Then she made a slight movement, bringing her lips back to his, and he abandoned thought and kissed her long and deep, her bare skin hot and smooth beneath his hands, her mouth eager and demanding under his. Garrick reached out, swept all the household accounts from the long mahogany table, the piles of paperwork it had taken him so long to compile, picked her up and sat her on the edge of the table. Her head fell back, the golden hair spilling about her like a drift of corn in the sun. Garrick’s lips nipped and kissed the soft line of her shoulder and down to the slopes of her breast. The hunger drove him hard. He fought the urge simply to spread her and take her. That was not good enough for Merryn, that he should sate his lust on her. He wanted her pleasure more than his own, wanted to bind her to him with every bond of physical desire he could use. Yet he knew he wanted more than that; he wanted to smash the barriers between them and claim her soul as well as her body.
He pulled back. “Do you want me to stop?” he demanded roughly.
“No.” Her word was a whisper. “Don’t stop.” He felt her make an effort. “But …”
“Yes?” He paused, his lips hovering over the ruffle that edged the neckline of the scandalous gown.
“The gown …” She sounded dazed, bewitched. “It was supposed to come off.”
Garrick took the neck of the gown, gave it one sharp tug and freed her breasts.
“Oh!” Her eyes opened wide in shock and pleasure, and Garrick’s body quickened in response.
“Oh,” she said again, this time on a whisper, as he took her nipple in his mouth, licking, sucking until she squirmed. She arched to the touch of his lips, bent back like a bow, and Garrick allowed his hands and mouth to plunder her, caressing, demanding, roaming now over the soft skin of her breasts and brushing the quivering tautness of her belly. Her skin felt hot and so sensitive. She vibrated beneath his touch. Garrick watched her face, dreamlike in its delight and discovery, and felt humbled by the openness with which she gave herself up to him, utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable. Desire tugged at him again but he leashed it, repressing his own needs ruthlessly as he continued to pleasure her until she was visibly trembling and crying out helplessly to him.
The gown, obliging as ever, fell open as he pulled it up. He parted her thighs, his fingers finding her core, stroking, sliding deep. The caress wrenched a gasp from her and Garrick covered her lips with his again, a reassurance as well as a demand. He felt her respond; she reached for him then, to draw him close, but he held her off for a moment, fumbling with his breeches with hands that shook so much he thought he would never manage it. He was utterly undone, aching, desperate, yet the need to treat her gently even in the center of this maelstrom of desire had him exercising a fierce restraint.
He felt Merryn stiffen slightly at the first touch of his body against hers, as though she had suddenly realized how vulnerable she was in this position. He opened her gently, pushed upward, and felt her body start to yield to him.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
He saw the precise moment that Merryn caught their reflection in the mirror, the dark, erotic image of herself seated on the edge of the table, thighs pale, widespread, skirts about her hips, breasts bare, her golden hair falling about them both like a silken curtain. She gave a keening cry and he slid deep inside her and felt her body sheathe him so tightly he almost came. He held still for a moment and felt her ripple and clench about him and the bliss was so intense he thought he might fall. He grasped after control against the barrage of sensation that assaulted him, withdrawing from her a little. He stroked her again and felt her whole body tighten in response. She grabbed his hips and pulled him into her, and Garrick could resist no longer. He claimed her, sinking deep, pulling out, driving them both fiercely onward. Possessiveness flared in him, the need to claim her surrender and to know she was irrefutably his. Yet alongside his triumph was a vulnerability that terrified him. She could bring him to his knees. She had already done so. He was lost.
It was his last thought. Merryn’s body clenched and released him again, sending shards of exquisite pleasure tumbling through him. It tore a harsh groan from his throat as he finally relinquished control and emptied himself into her. The pleasure flowered through him, a flood tide of passion that swept him to madness, a sweet delight he had never imagined. He drew her close and held her to his heart for a timeless interval.
Finally he released her. He was still breathing so hard he could not speak. Merryn lay back on the table, the books and papers scattered about her like petals in a storm, the candlelight shifting and shimmering over her body in bars of light and shadow. She made no effort to move or to cover herself and seeing her lying there so abandoned, so beautifully decadent, made Garrick want her all over again with a hard, fierce need that drove him to despair.
So it had not been enough. He had almost lost his mind. He had been driven to the edge by the force of his release. He had taken Merryn, mastered her body again, claimed her undeniably as his, and yet … And yet something was missing. It prowled along the edge of his consciousness, taunted him from beyond his understanding.
He wanted more. This was not enough.
Merryn shifted. As he watched her, his cock twitched and the lust tightened in his gut. This time he ignored them. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her across to the nearest chair, sitting down with her on his lap, pushing the tangled hair away from her face.
“Was that what you wanted?” he demanded.
She turned her head and a slow smile played across her lips. “Not precisely, your grace. Though …” she gave a languorous little wriggle that made Garrick grit his teeth against the new onslaught of temptation “… it was very, very nice.” She sat up a little. Her hair fell like a rich golden curtain about her face, hiding her expression.
“I had planned to stop at a crucial moment and ask you some questions,” she said.
Garrick gave a snort of laughter. “You planned to stop?”
She cast him a sideways look. “I see that I miscalculated.”
“You did,” Garrick said. “That was never going to work.”
“I realize that now. In my inexperience I misjudged the situation.” She stood up, moving away from him in a tangle of swirling hair and pale limbs. She lifted the cloak and swung it about her shoulders. It enveloped her. Her fingers were steady as she secured each little fastening. Only when the entire garment was sealed up to her neck did she look up and meet Garrick’s eyes. It felt odd to see her distance herself from him so deliberately. He wanted to take her upstairs to his bed, to hold her in the darkness of the night as both protection and protector, to make love to her again, to keep her with him all night and for as many of the following days and nights as he could. Merryn, on the other hand, looked as though she wanted to leave. Something cold and hard settled in Garrick’s stomach. Fear crept down his spine.
“I was going to ask you,” Merryn said slowly, “if it was Kitty who killed Stephen. I think she did. I think there must have
