The Duke of Pain, page 16
part #4 of The Rakes of St. Regent's Park Series
She nodded. “Yes, I know it. What happens next, Gideon?”
“You, my love, will pack everything you wish to bring with you, and you and your trunk are coming home with me. Then, if you are able, I will make love to you all night, or as long as you can tolerate my attention.”
“Truly, Gideon. We’ve only known each other for barely a month. Despite my brief lack of faith, how can we trust and love each other so thoroughly? Most people will think us mad. This isn’t normal. This sort of whirlwind love affair only happens in fairy stories.”
He kissed her forehead affectionately. “Good. I don’t want normal. If our life together resembles a fairy story or one of those outrageous penny novels, all the better.”
Olivia stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him. Gideon groaned and took the kiss deeper. When she flinched, he stepped back.
“Sorry, love.” His thumb brushed by her cut lip. “Someone will pay for this, I vow it.”
Olivia hugged him tightly. The faint scent of sandalwood soap filled her nostrils. Comfort, warmth, and solid strength.
That was Gideon.
He had given her everything without question, especially his heart, soul, his trust, and love, and yet, she had doubted him.
Pain laced through her.
“Gideon, please try to understand. It is not so much that I didn’t trust you. I did not trust my own feelings. I eventually accepted the explanation that you tossed me aside; because isn’t that what men do? At least, the ones I allowed myself to love. Yes, I lumped you in with my miserable vicar father, and I was wrong to do so.”
“Liv—”
“No, let me continue. I accepted the blow of your supposed rejection so I could move on. I was beginning to doubt that I would ever be able to love with my whole heart. Could I ever trust a man not to hurt me again?”
She let out a shaky breath. “If there is any man I wish to love and trust with my entire being, it is you, Gideon. The hole in my heart left by my father and my attackers—past and present—will mend. You will be the healer. The damage to my trust will also be restored. Only with you.”
“God, I love you.”
Gideon swept her up into a devastatingly passionate, yet gentle kiss. How long it went on, Olivia had no idea. He laid soft kisses on her forehead once again.
“My love, my mother, and stepfather are no better; in fact, they are worse,” he said in a quiet, solemn voice. “The cold, indifferent Lord Craven you met that first night was molded in ice. I knew no other way.”
Gideon caressed her cheek. “You see, I refer to myself as the Duke of Pain in my more maudlin moments. Pain from my father dying far too young, that my mother never loved me or showed me any affection. Pain at the verbal and physical beatings I was subjected to by my stepfather that were sanctioned by my mother. I did not feel anything but pain—until you. Whinstone married my mother for position and money—not love. I’ll be damned if I will live my life like that. I knew nothing of love—until you.”
A lump formed in her throat.
His words. The Duke of Pain.
Oh, her heart broke for him at that confession. What he had endured.
Olivia clasped his hand and kissed it. “We truly are broken, are we not?”
Gideon kissed the top of her head. “Not anymore. Not as long as we are together.”
“Take me home,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
* * *
He paced the floor, recalling his conversation with Olivia on the carriage ride home. She told him the men who had abducted her were rough-looking and speaking, just the type his stepfather kept around. Louts and bullies to a fault. He laughed when she told him her names for them: “Yellow Teeth and Wool Trousers.”
The situation itself, however, was far from humorous.
Gideon’s blood still boiled that Olivia had been subjected to such patent cruelty. She had apologized for doubting him again, but he waved it off. While a part of him ached that she had believed the lies, however briefly, another part completely understood the reasons for her suspicions.
It was time to forgive and embrace life fully.
When he arrived home, there was a note from The Galway Agency, saying their associate was already on-route to Essex to begin surveillance on Whinstone. Also, Christian was making inquiries on the Whinstone dukedom. So far, his friend had hit a brick wall as if there was a barrier of protection around it. Which meant there must be some sort of scandal that was tucked away. The peerage certainly knew how to protect one another, even from each other.
But Gideon had more pressing matters to attend to.
Olivia.
He found her sitting in her adjoining room, sitting at the dressing table brushing her damp hair. She had just had a long relaxing bath and was wearing one of his dressing gowns.
“How was it?”
Olivia turned and gave him a warm smile. “The bath? Absolutely glorious. I sat in the water until my skin wrinkled.” She lifted the collar of his dressing-gown to her nose. “And being wrapped in your scent acts as a calming balm, to be certain.”
He padded up behind her, reached for the brush, and gently ran it through her long, flowing locks. She leaned her head back against his chest. Kitten-like mews of satisfaction left her throat with each glide.
“Oh, that feels nice,” she purred.
“Love, I almost hate to bring this up since you are so relaxed. I wish us to move forward together. Put the past behind us. But there is one part of your past you must face.”
Olivia sat up straight and stared at him in the reflection. “What do you mean?”
“Hear me out. It concerns Brookton.”
He told her about Damon’s statements about his father and the illegitimate children. About Damon’s passionate speech regarding illegitimate children in general.
“He wishes to find any half-siblings. Although he acts an arrogant sod, he is not like his father. Not deep down where it counts. He would respect your wishes about not telling Chellenham. What do you think?”
Olivia’s brows knotted with concern. “I don’t know what to think. I will consider it. But I am adamant about the duke not knowing.”
“Understood.”
“Why is he so keen on finding these half-siblings?”
“I do not know. You can ask Brookton if you decide to meet.” Gideon continued to gently brush her hair. “Your hair is a crowning glory. God, how I want it draped across my thighs as you—”
She glanced at him in the mirror’s reflection. “As I what?”
“Suck my cock. Make me come.” He laughed at seeing her eyes go wide in the mirror. “I certainly changed the subject, didn’t I? It appears I am, as rumor states—quite decadent and insatiable. Fathomless depths of stamina. But know this, only for you, Liv, and you alone.”
Gideon laid the brush on the counter and rested his hands on her shoulders.
Olivia stood, took Gideon’s hand, and led him out into the bedroom. She pulled down his trousers until they hit the floor. He kicked them aside.
“You are such a feast for the eyes,” she murmured. “Lie down, and I will do as you wish. Or try to, as I’ve never done it before. I will spread my hair across your thighs, suck your c—”
Gideon pulled her tight against him and kissed her intensely, cutting off the rest of her sentence.
Sighing, Olivia tunneled her hands through his hair, grabbed a handful in her fist, and pulled him in for an even deeper kiss.
A low, husky rumble left the corner of his mouth. Then Gideon broke the kiss and lay on the bed.
Olivia dropped the dressing gown on the floor then climbed on the bed, straddling his hips. She laid flat between his spread legs and grasped his shaft at the base, squeezing tight.
“Yes. Grip it tighter,” Gideon growled.
First, she laid out her long hair on either side of him, creating a blanket of blonde locks. Olivia gripped him again, squeezed, and then slid her hand up and down the length of him.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Gideon. Instruct me. Guide me.”
“God, you expect me to talk?” he laughed brokenly. “Take me deep. Lick, nibble, suck, do whatever you wish. Grip me at the root and guide it into your lush mouth.”
Her mouth closed over the swollen head, and Gideon cried out, his head lifting off the pillow.
“Yes. Deeper.”
Gideon gently grabbed a fistful of her hair then guided her to a faster pace. His hips rose off the bed with each bob of her head.
“Jesus, I’m close—” He croaked. He pulled away from her as he reached his peak and cried out with sheer bliss.
After he cleaned up, Gideon pulled her next to him, so they were both lying on their sides. She curled in next to his warmth.
“So much to explore,” he whispered. “Together. I will do anything and everything you wish. I am yours. Deep down, your passion matches mine.”
“Yes. Yes, it does, Gideon.”
Moaning, Gideon reached between her legs and fingered her clit. “Anything, Liv. Share everything. Hold nothing back.” He moved quicker; until they both were panting.
The intensity of Olivia’s climax nearly tore him in two.
He encircled her in his embrace. “I love you, Liv.”
Never, ever had he felt so complete.
So loved. So alive.
Chapter 21
“You have a caller, Your Grace,” Hobson announced. “The Marquess of Brookton.”
Olivia’s eyes widened at the announcement.
“I didn’t contact him. I have no idea why he is here. Shall I send him away?” Gideon asked.
They were eating a late breakfast. Isn’t eleven in the morning a little early for callers? Olivia had no idea what the proper times were for such.
But Brookton.
She could run upstairs and stay hidden, or she could confront this head-on.
“My love? What do you want me to do? I can see him in the library, and you can continue with your meal. Say the word.”
Olivia laid her utensils across her plate. “No. have him shown in here. We will speak to him. Alone.”
“Hobson, show in the marquess, then give us privacy.”
“At once, Your Grace.” Hobson snapped his fingers, and the two footmen swiftly departed.
Brookton breezed into the room, rubbing his hands together. “Brilliant. Hobson said you were eating a late breakfast. I am famished and—” He froze when he spotted Olivia. “And you are not alone.”
“No,” Gideon replied, giving her such a heart-rending look of love her heart skipped a beat. “I will never be alone again.”
Brookton rolled his eyes. “God, not another one hit with Cupid’s bow. This is becoming tedious.”
“Afraid so. Help yourself to the food and take a seat. We both wish to speak to you.”
Brookton shrugged and moved to the sideboard, filling his plate. He then sat next to Gideon.
“Why are you here?” Gideon asked as Brookton shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You rarely stop by for a visit.”
“I’ve never stopped by for a visit,” Brookton murmured as he nibbed on a piece of bacon. “I’ve heard from Huxley. The absentee viscount has returned to London and wishes to see The Rakes. I told him that you and I and Tolwood are the only semi-original ones left—that he knows of. So, he wishes to see us both when convenient. He was not too keen to have Tolwood there. Poor bugger, always left out. Why we keep Tolwood around, I have no notion.”
Brookton ran a piece of bread through the egg yolk and ate it. “Huxley wants to meet this afternoon. I said I would ask you. Oh, also, I am planning a trip to Spain next month. I may be gone a few weeks. I need you to take over as leader, temporarily.”
Gideon’s mouth quirked. “Not asking for much, are you? Since we meet once a month, I think we can bear your absence for a few weeks. I’m not interested in being a leader, not even temporarily.”
Brookton cast a glance at Olivia. “Or a member at all, I take it?”
“That is a discussion for another time. We have something more important to deliberate with you. It is of the utmost confidence. We will have your word that it won’t be repeated.”
Brookton snorted. “What is this? What possible secret do you have to tell that involves your paramour? No disrespect meant, my dear lady.”
Olivia could see fire come alive in Gideon’s eyes. There would be fisticuffs if she didn’t intervene.
“For your information,” Olivia stated evenly. “I am not his mistress, nor am I a courtesan. I am Gideon’s fiancée. We are to be married.”
“Congratulations, I suppose? Is that the secret? I am not to repeat where you met? You have my word. I shall keep those scandalous details to myself. At least, society would deem it a scandal, not I.” Brookton turned his attention to his plate, eating more egg and bacon, then he buttered a cheese scone.
Gideon inclined his head toward Brookton as if encouraging her to continue.
“That is not what I—we—wanted to speak with you about,” Olivia continued. “But we appreciate your discretion regarding how we met. No, I wish to discuss your wretched father and the fact he has illegitimate children. Gideon tells me you wish to find some of them. Why?”
Brookton slowly raised his head and pinned her with his intense blue-eyed stare. The exact same shade of blue as her own eyes.
“Why? It’s none of your concern—why.”
The words were coldly spoken.
This was more difficult than Olivia had imagined. Best to just put it out there.
Mustering her courage, she said, “I am your half-sister.”
Brookton didn’t move or change his expression. Then his gaze slid to Gideon.
“What in hell is this?” he spat. “What did you tell her?”
Gideon explained about the nuns and the name her late mother spoke over and over. How she was adopted by a vicar and his wife. Even how she came to be abandoned in London.
Brookton turned as white as a sheet. “This cannot be true.”
“My God, man. Look at her!” Gideon exclaimed. “It’s like looking in a mirror. Olivia is your older half-sister. There is no mistaking the resemblance between you.”
Brookton ran his fingers through his golden hair. “I’ve spoken to doctors and scientists. The European medical field is working on classifying blood types in people. One possible benefit from this? They may be able to determine if someone is blood-related. But the science is a couple of decades away, perhaps longer. In the meantime, there is no way to scientifically prove such.”
He looked to Olivia, and his expression softened. “There is only someone saying they are related. But Gideon is correct; the resemblance is there. I cannot deny it.”
“I never knew my mother. She died shortly after my birth,” Olivia stated, her voice quiet and reflective. “The nuns contacted your father. He did not deny knowing my mother, nor did he deny that I was his offspring. My mother and your father obviously had relations.”
“Obviously,” Brookton muttered.
“I can give you the name of the order as they are located north of here. I spoke to Sister Rose two years ago. She remembered my mother and the incident of my birth vividly. But first, you must promise me not to tell your father. I don’t want him to know, and I don’t want to know him.”
“How very wise of you. Stay clear of the man. I give you my word that I shall never tell him. Olivia, may I call you Olivia?” Brookton asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you must call me Damon. I do apologize for my past crass behavior toward you. I have no excuse except I can be a horrid human being. Shall we become acquainted? Could we be friends? Will we, at some point, think of each other as brother and sister? Can it be achieved?”
Olivia’s eyes welled with tears as emotion threatened to overtake her. “I would like to try.”
“Don’t think I’ve made some miraculous change in personality,” Damon said. “This news has had the most profound affect on me. I need time to reflect on it. But as far as you concerned, Olivia, I will curb my worst impulses.”
“That is quite the concession,” Gideon said, sardonically. “And I am glad you apologized for your actions, especially at the park. Perhaps there is something worthwhile in that empty soul of yours.”
“Oh, please. The fact that I made a lewd proposition toward a woman who turned out to be my half-sister has scarred me for life. And deservedly so. I apologize once again.”
He sounded sincere. Olivia acknowledged his apology with a smile.
Hobson entered the room. “A Miss Althea Galway to see you, Your Grace. She insists that it is urgent.”
Damon stood so swiftly he knocked over the chair. Yes, already she was thinking of him as Damon. His cheeks flushed at the mention of Miss Galway’s name. How odd; was he acquainted with the lady detective?
“Show her in, Hobson,” Gideon declared.
Damon threw his napkin on the table. “I have to go.”
Hobson escorted Miss Galway into the room. She was attractive, with dark brown hair shot with gold. Her gaze locked with Damon’s, and Olivia could swear crackles of electricity leaped between them. How curious indeed.
If Damon was flustered before, he quickly gained control. He bowed slightly.
“Miss Galway, we always seem to be running into each other. How long has it been? Several months at least.”
“Several months hardly constitutes ‘always running into each other.’ If we are lucky several months more will pass before it happens again,” Miss Galway retorted.
Oh, dear.
Perhaps Olivia was wrong about the sparks, for that was a direct hit if ever she had seen or heard one.
Damon mockingly laid his hand on his heart and staggered. “Ouch. Bullseye. You’ve got me, Miss Galway. A fatal shot to the heart.”
Miss Galway frowned, but there was no mistaking the high color in her cheeks.
“You don’t have a heart,” she murmured so low Olivia was not sure that is what she said.
