Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Desperate to leave the voice in her head behind, Haven left the watch on the bed, and fled from the room.
She had to go somewhere, do something to take her mind from Perez’s words.
He’d dug things from the bottom of her soul and laid them bare before her like moldering bones.
She hadn’t gotten the information she wanted, but she knew from what they’d read in the book that Perez had to fulfill a task.
A task involving her.
Screw him.
If he needed her cooperation to succeed, he’d have to drag her kicking and screaming into his plot, and that wasn’t likely.
She had to figure out how to use Perez to get home without allowing him to use her like every man in her life had done.
Every man had warped her and drained her of her trust and belief in happily ever after.
Even Logan had done it. Since she’d met him she’d been the human target for his distrust and his anger at his past. While they’d experienced white-hot chemistry and literally shook the boughs of a tree with their sexual frenzies, it wasn’t enough.
He used her for his release, but was unwilling to open to her.
She wanted him to lay aside his bitterness, insecurity, and hostilities, and be honest, tell her why he couldn’t talk about his mother without a look of betrayal slithering across his beautiful face.
She wanted to know what happened to turn him into such a hard, distrusting duke.
He had a loving, gentle, passionate man locked away somewhere; he just had to loosen his death grip on the key and let someone set him free.
She could do that if he let her.
She had to see him.
Haven had only left him in the study an hour ago, but she couldn’t shake the need to be with him, hear his voice, and feel his hands on her.
She knew it was a sickness, an addiction, one she had to kick before she left, or she’d have one hell of a case of withdrawal.
It didn’t help that he’d banned sex between them.
Forbidden fruit was always the most alluring.
She didn’t care.
Moving to the staircase, she stopped when she noticed the open door of the Grand Gallery.
She peeked through, and gasped. The room was as big as the large open central rotunda of a shopping mall.
The ceiling, at least fifty feet high, was a dome made of brilliantly colored and beautifully crafted stained glass.
Sunlight shone through, lighting the room with reds, greens, light blues, and orange-yellows.
The afternoon sun illuminated every surface.
The floor was hand-laid dark hardwood, the walls were wainscoted with dark green, and the walls above were a crème, providing an accent and perfect backdrop for the long lines of ornately framed portraits.
She followed the portraits along the wall closest to the door.
These pictures held the austere faces of men, some old and some young, all who bared a resemblance to a face she was beginning to adore.
The men had dark hair and light blue or green eyes, and the women varied in complexion.
One woman had vibrant red hair, and another had rich, golden blond.
No matter their coloring, they were all gorgeous, or at least painted to look their best. She followed along and came upon an empty space in the line.
The crème paint was dark in the shape of the portrait that had hung there only a day ago.
His mother’s. Beneath the glaringly empty spot, a golden plaque glinted in the pouring sunlight.
Lorenna Dunham, Lady Caspire
December 19, 1761 - October 12, 1792
She’d died at only thirty-one years old. So young. Logan would have been nine or ten at the time. To lose his mother at such a young age…was that why he couldn’t speak of her, why he couldn’t let the bitterness, anger, and distrust die?
What happened to her?
Leaving the Grand Gallery and its eerie portraits behind, she hurried to Logan’s study.
He wasn’t there.
Unsure of where to go to find him, she made her way to the corridor leading to his room. She stole down the hallway, bypassing her bedroom and Perez completely.
She approached the door to Logan’s room, and hesitated.
She didn’t know what she’d do if she found him in there.
Would they talk about the weather, or share intimate information about their pasts?
Or would they have hot, heavy sex? While her body begged for the latter option, she knew if she wanted to get anywhere with him, which she didn’t know for sure if she wanted to at all, she needed to know why he cut himself off from her.
She needed to know about his mother, and she wouldn’t let him leave the room until he told her every detail.
Rapping softly at his door, a muted, “Come,” propelled her forward. She opened the door, and stepped inside. The curtains were open, letting in cascades of light.
“You may leave, Jasper, I am not in need of your services. I will be on my way once I’ve finished here.”
He thought she was his valet?
Oh, dear Lord.
When he didn’t turn to look, she stood still as death. If he thought the valet had gone, what would he do next?
He answered her question seconds later by removing his shirt. She gasped.
He turned to her, barring his beautiful, Adonis-like chest complete with muscled pecs, defined abs, and a thin line of dark golden hair trailing to the waistband of his trousers.
Though they’d been intimate twice, once in the dwindling light of a fire, and the other in a moonlit grove, she’d never had the opportunity to see him naked, or even shirtless in adequate light.
Their couplings had been quick, frantic, and passionate.
There wasn’t time for turning up the lights and studying each other’s bodies.
Seeing him naked in the daylight would be life changing.
“Haven?” His voice jerked her from her thoughts and back into his bedroom with him, and his splendid bare chest. “What are you doing here?”
It took an embarrassing amount of time to find her voice. “I...uh...I was looking for you,” she stammered, and heat rose over her face.
He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Well, you found me.” He stepped forward, but stopped. “Did you talk to Perez?”
At the mention of the enchanted man, a sour taste thickened in her mouth. “Yes, but I didn’t get anything useful out of him.”
“Then what is there to tell me?” Tilting his head, he motioned to his whole body, “I am in the middle of something.”
Sure she’d turned a burnt shade of red, she spun on her heel and faced the door. She should’ve left so he could go about his business, and so she could douse the heat rising in her blood, but her feet weighed a ton.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue.” Her voice came out huskier than she’d wanted, but she couldn’t help it. The man was sexy as hell with his clothes on, and now with his shirt off, she was at serious risk of a lust-induced heart attack.
“I believe it would be better for you to leave the room, don’t you?” His voice held a whisper of laughter that made her heart rate dip.
Yup, heart attack.
“That’s probably true, but I wanted to talk to you about something, and I’m not going to let you leave this room until you answer my questions.” With more bravado than she felt, she stood akimbo, and stuck out her chin.
Her hand flew to her stomach when his hot breath blew across the back of her neck. “You want to talk?” Heat rushed to her belly, and her legs wobbled.
Unable to speak without squeaking, she nodded.
Laughter rumbled from his chest. “Haven, you’re in my room. Talking is best left to rooms without beds.” She gasped. “Unless it isn’t talk you’re really interested in.”
His lips found the sensitive flesh at her nape, and she groaned.
“It sounds like there is something else you’d rather be doing.”
“Mmmm, yes—I mean no. I really do want to talk to you.” Her indecisiveness grated against her ragged nerves. She wanted to know about his mother, but Lord, she also wanted him to put his mouth on her nape again...then the little spot below her ear, then her breast, then her belly, then her—
Ripping her mind from the place where it always ended up, she spun to face him.
The biggest mistake she’d made all week.
From a distance his bare chest was marvelous. Up close, within touching distance, it made her mouth water. The chiseled lines of his abs, the strong shelf of his pecs, and the silky golden hairs were all inches from fingers that itched in their eagerness to touch.
Before she could utter a word, though she doubted any would come out, he bent his head, and nibbled the trembling flesh of her bottom lip, tugging on it until she moaned in bliss.
He certainly knew how to kiss.
Releasing her lip, his face grew dark; his black eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and the heat radiating from his body scorched her.
“Talk all you want, I’m listening.”
While his reply was acceptable, she couldn’t begin her ill-timed conversation when he covered her mouth with his and kissed her until the room spun.
His lips left hers, but she had but a moment to murmur, “Wait, that’s not fair—” before he captured them again.
Using that moment to deepen his kiss, he pushed past her open lips to toy seductively with her tongue.
Why had she come in here?
What did she want to know?
Never a quitter, she’d make one last go of it, trying to shift their momentum toward something beneficial to her peace of mind.
She dragged her mouth from his, willed her racing heart to slow, and took a deep breath.
“Logan, we really should talk....”
The low grunt told her he disagreed with her statement, but it wasn’t until he pressed his erection against her fluttering belly that she fully comprehended his level of involvement in their present activity.
Shuddering with excitement at the promise of things to come, she made up her mind.
From recent experience, bringing up the subject of his mother was as effective as a cold shower at ending their hot interludes. Anything she had to say could wait. At present, there were better things to use her mouth for.
Finally giving in to the literal heat of the moment and throwing her plans to the stiff wind, she drew her arms around his neck, and let him pull her tight against his naked chest. He deepened their kiss, and she swore he couldn’t possibly deepen the eroticism any further.
He immediately proved her wrong.
Using one strong, capable hand, he pulled the pins from her hair, loosening the strands from their Georgian noose, allowing them to slide over the skin of her neck.
Groaning at the relief and the unexpected pleasure of her hair against her rapidly warming skin, she pulled her mouth from his, and threw her head back.
With such a blatant invitation to explore, he set to work raising goosebumps along her collarbone.
The appreciative moans escaping her throat sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. It felt so damn good.
He was too good at this.
So good….
He must have felt her give in to the pleasure because the moment she decided to postpone all talk of his mother, his arms tightened, and his kiss slowed. What was a kiss of enticement was now a kiss of seduction. He had her full attention, and milked every single piece of bliss from her.
She pulled her arms from his neck. Finally allowing her twitching fingers access to his hair, she ran them across his nape, glorying in the silkiness of his golden mane and the scents of man wafting across her face.
When that no longer appeased her curiosity, she ran her touch over his shoulders, his collar bone, and into the hairs on his chest.
Unable to do anything but respond to the pleasure, she stood there, enveloped in his embrace, trembling in anticipation, eager to remove the layers of clothing and touch her skin to his. Wondering what it would be like to scrape her pert nipples across the crisp hairs under her fingers, she moaned.
It would be incredible.