Seduce Me At Sunrise

Chapter Nineteen

Cursing beneath his breath, Kev dragged on his trousers and shirt and went barefoot to the door. Opening it, he saw Cam Rohan standing there nonchalantly, a valise in one hand and a covered basket in the other.

"Hello." Cam 's hazel eyes danced with mischief. "I've brought you a few things."

"How did you find us?" Kev asked without heat.

"I knew you hadn't gone far. None of your clothes were missing, nor any bags or trunks. And since the front gatehouse was too obvious, this was the next place I thought of. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"No," Kev said shortly, and Cam grinned.

"If our positions were reversed, phral, I suppose I'd be just as inhospitable. There's food in the basket, and clothes for both of you in the valise."

"Thank you." Kev took the items and set them just inside the door. Straightening, he looked at his brother, searching for any sign of censure. There was none.

"Ov yilo isi?" Cam asked.

It was an old Romany phrase, meaning "Is all well here?" But it was literally translated as "Is there heart here?" which seemed rather appropriate.

"Yes," Kev said softly.

"There is nothing you need?"

"For the first time in my life," Kev admitted, "there is nothing I need."

Cam smiled. "Good." Nonchalantly tucking his hands in his coat pockets, he braced a shoulder against the door frame.

"What is the situation at Ramsay House?" Kev asked, half-dreading the answer.

"There were a few moments of chaos this morning, when it was discovered that you were both gone." A diplomatic pause. " Harrow 's been insisting that Win was taken against her will. At one point he threatened to go to the parish constable. Harrow says if you don't return with Win by nightfall, he'll take drastic action."

"What would that be?" Kev inquired darkly.

"I don't know. But you might give a thought to the rest of us having to stay at Ramsay House with him while you're out here with his fiancée."

"She's my fiancée now. And I'll bring her back when I damn well please."

"Understood." Cam 's lips twitched. "You intend to marry her soon, I hope?"

"Not soon," Kev said. "Immediately."

"Thank God. Even for the Hathaways, this is all a bit untoward." Cam glanced over Merripen's disheveled form and smiled. "It's good to see you at ease finally, Merripen. If it were anyone but you, I'd say you actually looked happy."

It was not easy to shed the habit of privacy. But Kev was actually tempted to confide in his brother, things he wasn't even certain he had words for. Such as the discovery that the love of a woman could make the entire world seem new. Or his wonder that Win, who had always seemed so fragile and in need of protection, had emerged as an even stronger presence than he.

"Rohan," he asked quietly, to keep Win from overhearing, "I have a question…"

"Yes?"

"Do you conduct your marriage the way of the gadje or the Rom?"

"Mostly the way of the gadje," Rohan said without hesitation. "It wouldn't work otherwise. Amelia is hardly the kind of woman who could be treated as a subordinate. But as a Rom, I will always reserve the right to protect and look after her as I see fit." He smiled slightly. "You will find a middle way, just as we have."

Kev scrubbed his hand through his hair and asked guardedly, "Are the Hathaways angry about what I've done?"

"You mean carrying Win off?" "Yes."

"The only complaint I heard was that you took far too long."

"Do any of them know where we are?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Cam 's smile turned wry. "I can buy you a few more hours, phral. But have her back by nightfall, if for no other reason than to shut Harrow up." He frowned slightly. "He's an odd one, that gadjo r

Kev gave him an alert glance. "Why do you say that?"

Cam shrugged. "Most men in his position would have done something, anything, by now. Destroyed some furniture. Gone for someone's throat. By this time, I would have turned all of Hampshire upside down to find my woman. But Harrow only talks. And talks."

"About what?"

"He's said quite a lot about what his rights are, what he's entitled to, his sense of betrayal… but so far it hasn't occurred to him to express any concern about Win's welfare, or consider what she wants. Overall, he acts like a child whose toy has been taken from him and who wants it to be given back." Cam grimaced. "Damned embarrassing, even for a gadjo." He raised his voice and called to the unseen Win, "I'm leaving now. Good day, little sister."

"And to you, Mr. Rohan!" her cheerful voice floated back.

They unpacked a feast from the basket: cold roast fowl, a variety of salads, fruit, and thick slices of seedcake. After devouring the lot, they sat before the hearth on a quilt. Dressed only in Kev's shirt, Win sat between his thighs while he brushed the tangles from her hair. He ran his fingers repeatedly through the length of silk, which gleamed like moonlight in his hands.

"Shall we go for a walk, now that I have my clothes?" Win asked.

"If you like." Kev held her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. "And afterward, back to bed."

She shivered and made a sound of amusement. "I've never known you to spend so much time abed."

"Until now I've never had a good reason." Setting the brush aside, he pulled her into his lap and cradled her. He kissed her lazily. She pushed upward with increasing demand, making him smile and pull back. "Easy," he said, stroking her jaw. "We're not going to start that again."

"But you just said you wanted to go back to bed."

"I meant to rest."

"We aren't going to make love anymore?"

"Not today," he said gently. "You've had enough." He brushed his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. "If I made love to you again, you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow."

But as he was discovering, any challenge to Win's physical stamina was met with immediate resistance. "I'm quite well," she said stubbornly, sitting up in his lap. She spread kisses over his face and throat, everywhere she could reach. "Once more, before we go back. I need you, Kev; I need-"

He quieted her with his mouth, and received such an ardently impatient response that he couldn't help chuckling against her lips. She drew back and demanded, "Are you laughing at me?"

"No. No. It's only… you're adorable, you please me so much. My eager little gadji…" He kissed her again, trying to calm her. But she was insistent, stripping off his shirt, pulling his hands to her naked body.

"Why are you so anxious?" he whispered, lying back on the quilt with her. "No… wait.… Win, talk to me."

She went still in his arms, her small frowning face close to his. "I'm afraid to go back," she admitted. "I feel as if something bad will happen. It doesn't seem real that we can truly be together now."

"We can't hide here forever," Kev murmured, stroking her hair. "Nothing will happen, love. We've gone too far to turn back. You're mine now, and no one can change that. Are you afraid of Harrow? Is that it?"

"Not afraid, exactly. But I'm not looking forward to facing him."

"Of course not," Kev said quietly. "I'll help you through it. I'll talk to him first."

"I don't think that would be wise," she said uncertainly.

"I insist on it. I won't lose my temper. But I'm going to take responsibility for what I've done. I would hardly leave you to handle the consequences without me."

Win lowered her cheek to his shoulder. "Are you certain nothing will happen to change your mind about marrying me?"

"Nothing in the world could do that." Feeling the tension in her body, he ran his hands over her, lingering on her chest, where every heartbeat was a hard, anxious collision. He rubbed a circle to soothe her. "What can I do to make you feel better?" he asked tenderly.

"I already told you, and you wouldn't," she said in a small, sullen voice, and that drew a smothered laugh from him.

"Then you'll have your way," he whispered. "But slowly, so I won't hurt you." He kissed the spaces behind her earlobes and moved down to the smooth whiteness of her shoulders, the pulse at the base of her throat.

More softly still he kissed the plump curves of her breasts. Her nipples were bright and stung-looking from all his previous attentions. He was careful with them, his mouth gentle as he covered a swollen peak.

Win made a little movement, gave a faint hiss, and he guessed the nipple was smarting. But her hands came to his head, holding him there. He used his tongue to make languid circles, sucking only enough to keep the tender flesh inside the clamp of his lips. He spent a long time at her breasts, keeping his mouth soft, until she moaned and stirred her hips, needing more than the faint, feathery stimulation.

Dragging his lips down between her thighs, Kev rooted in the hot silk of her, finding the delicate blunt point of her clitoris, using the velvet flat of his tongue to paint and caress. She clutched his head more tightly and sobbed his name, the throaty sound exciting him.

When the responsive movements of her hips took on a regular rhythm, he pulled his mouth from her and pushed her knees wide and apart. He took an eternity to ease into the lush clenching flesh. Fully seated, he wrapped his arms around her, securing her against his body.

She wriggled, urging him to thrust, but he held still and fast and pressed his mouth to her ear, and whispered that he would make her come just like this, he would stay hard inside her as long as it took. Her ear turned scarlet, and she tightened and throbbed around him. "Please move," she whispered, and he gently said no.

"Please move, please…"

No.

But after a while he began to flex his hips in a subtle rhythm. She whimpered and trembled as he drove her, nudging deeper, relentless in his restraint. The climax broke over her finally, tearing low cries from her lips, bringing wild shudders to the surface. Kev was quiet, experiencing a release so acute and paralyzing that it robbed him of all sound. Her slender body pulled at him, milked him, enclosed him in delicate heat.

The pleasure was so great it caused an unfamiliar stinging in his eyes and nose, and that shook him to his foundations. Bloody hell, Kev thought, realizing that something had changed in him, something that could never be put back. All his defenses had been reduced to the uncertain strength of one small woman.

The sun was descending into the basin of rich wooded valleys by the time they had both dressed. The fires were extinguished, leaving the cottage cold and dark.

Win clung to Merripen's hand anxiously as he led her to the horse. "I wonder why happiness always seems so fragile," she said. "I think the things our family has experienced… losing our parents, Leo losing Laura, the fire, my illness… have made me aware of how easily the things we value can be snatched away. Life can change from one moment to the next."

"Not everything changes. Some things last forever."

Win stopped and turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He responded immediately, holding her secure and close, locking her against his powerful body. Win buried her face in his chest. "I hope so," she said after a moment. "Are you really mine now, Kev?"

"I've always been yours," he said against her ear.

Braced for the usual clamor of her sisters, Win was relieved when she and Kev returned to Ramsay House and found it serene and quiet. So unusually serene that it was clear everyone had agreed to behave as if nothing unusual had transpired. She found Amelia, Poppy, Miss Marks, and Beatrix in the upstairs parlor, the first three doing needlework while Beatrix read aloud.

As Win entered the room cautiously, Beatrix paused, and the women looked up with bright, curious gazes.

"Hello, dear," Amelia said warmly. "Did you have a nice outing with Merripen?" As if it had been nothing more than a picnic or carriage drive.

"Yes, thank you." Win smiled at Beatrix. "Do go on, Bea. Whatever you're reading sounds lovely."

"It's a sensation novel," Beatrix said. "Very exciting. There's a dark and gloomy mansion, and servants who behave oddly, and a secret door behind a tapestry." She lowered her voice dramatically. "Someone's about to be murdered."

While Beatrix continued, Win sat beside Amelia. Win felt her older sister's hand reach for hers. A small but capable hand. A comforting grip. So much was expressed in Amelia's loving clasp, and in the returning pressure of Win's fingers… concern, acceptance, reassurance.

"Where is he?" Amelia whispered.

Win felt a pang of worry, though she kept her expression serene. "He's gone to talk to Dr. Harrow."

Amelia's grip tightened. "Well," she returned wryly, "it should be a lively conversation. I've gotten the impression that your Harrow has been saving up quite a few things to say."

"You crude, stupid peasant." Julian Harrow was white-faced but controlled as he and Kev met in the library. "You have no idea what you've done. In your haste to reach out and grab what you want, you've given no heed to the consequences. And you won't until it's too late. Until you've killed her."

Having a fairly good idea of what Harrow was going to say, Kev had already decided how he would deal with him. For Win's sake, Kev would tolerate any number of insults or accusations. The doctor would have his say… and Kev would let it all roll off his back. He had won. Win was his now, and nothing else mattered.

It wasn't easy, however. Harrow was the perfect picture of an outraged romantic hero… slim, elegant, his face pale and indignant. He made Kev feel like a swarthy oafish villain by contrast. And those last words, until you've killed her, chilled him to the marrow.

So many vulnerable creatures had suffered at his hands. No one with Kev's past could ever deserve Win. And even though she had forgiven his history of brutality, he could never forget.

"No one is going to harm her," Kev said. "It's obvious that as your wife, she would have been well cared for, but it wasn't what she wanted. She's made her choice."

"Under duress!"

"I didn't force her."

"Of course you did," Harrow said with contempt. "You carried her off in a display of brute strength. And being a woman, of course she thought it thrilling and romantic. Women can be dominated and persuaded into accepting nearly anything. And in the future, as she's dying in childbirth, in grotesque pain, she won't blame you for it. But you'll know that you're responsible." A harsh laugh escaped him as he saw Kev's expression. "Are you really so simple that you don't understand what I'm saying?"

"You believe she's too fragile to bear children," Kev said. "But she consulted another doctor in London, who-"

"Yes. Did Winnifred tell you the name of this doctor?" Harrow 's eyes were frosty gray, his tone brittle with condescension.

Kev shook his head.

"I persisted in asking," Harrow said, "until she told me. And I knew at once it was an invented name. A sham. But just to make certain, I checked the registers of every legitimate physician in London. The doctor she named doesn't exist. She was lying, Merripen." Harrow raked his hands through his hair and paced back and forth. "Women are as devious as children when it comes to getting their way. My God, you're easily manipulated, aren't you?"

Kev couldn't answer. He had believed Win, for the simple reason that she never lied. As far as he knew, there was only one time in her life she had ever deceived him, and that had been to trick him into taking morphine when he'd been suffering from a burn wound. Later he'd understood why she'd done it, and he had forgiven her at once. But if she had lied about this… Anguish burned like acid in his blood.

Now he understood why Win had been so nervous about returning.

Harrow paused at the library table and went to half-sit, half-lean on it. "I still want her," he said quietly. "I'm still willing to have her. On condition that she hasn't conceived." He broke off as Kev fastened a lethal glare on him. "Oh, you may glower, but you can't deny the truth. Look at you-how can you justify what you've done? You're a filthy Gypsy, attracted to pretty baubles like the rest of your ilk."

Harrow watched Kev closely as he continued. "I'm sure you love her, in your fashion. Not in a refined way, not in the way she truly needs, but as much as someone of your kind is capable. I find that somewhat touching. And pitiable. No doubt Winnifred feels that the bonds of childhood kinship give you more of a claim on her than any other man could possibly have. But she has been too long sheltered from the world. She has neither the wisdom nor the experience to know her own needs. If she does marry you, it will only be a matter of time before she tires of you, and wants more than you could ever offer. Go find a sturdy peasant girl, Merripen. Better yet, a Gypsy woman who would be happy with the simple life you could give her. You want a nightingale, when you would be so much better served with a nice, robust pigeon. Do the right thing, Merripen. Give her to me. It's not too late. She'll be safe with me,"

Kev could barely hear his own rasping voice, his pulse hammering with confusion and despair and fury.

"Maybe I should ask the Lanhams. Would they agree that she'd be safer with you?"

And without glancing to judge the effect of his words, Kev strode from the library.

Win's sense of unease grew as evening settled over the house. She stayed in the parlor with her sisters and Miss Marks until Beatrix had tired of reading. The only relief from Win's growing tension was in watching the antics of Beatrix's ferret, Dodger, who seemed enamored of Miss Marks, despite-or perhaps because of-her obvious antipathy. He kept creeping up to the governess and trying to steal one of her knitting needles, while she watched him with narrowed eyes.

"Don't even consider it," Miss Marks told the hopeful ferret with chilling calm. "Or I'll cut off your tail with a carving knife."

Beatrix grinned. "I thought that only happened to blind mice, Miss Marks,"

"It works on any offending rodent," Miss Marks returned darkly.

"Ferrets are not rodents, actually," Beatrix said. "They're classified as mustelidae. Weasels. So one might say the ferret is a distant cousin of the mouse."

"It's not a family I'd care to become closely acquainted with," Poppy said.

Dodger draped himself across the arm of the settee and pinned a love-struck gaze on Miss Marks, who ignored him.

Win smiled and stretched. "I'm fatigued. I'll bid everyone good night now."

"I'm fatigued as well," Amelia said, covering a deep yawn.

"Perhaps we should all retire," Miss Marks suggested, deftly packing away her knitting in a little basket.

They all went to their rooms, while Win's nerves bristled in the ominous silence of the hallway. Where was Merripen? What had been said between him and Julian?

A lamp burned low in her room, its glow pushing feebly against the encroaching shadows. She blinked as she saw a motionless form in the corner… Merripen, occupying a chair.

"Oh," she breathed in surprise.

His gaze tracked her as she came closer to him.

"Kev?" she asked hesitantly, while a chill slithered down her spine. The talk had not gone well. Something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked huskily.

Merripen stood and towered over her, his expression unfathomable. "Who was the doctor you saw in London, Win? How did you find him?"

Then she understood. Her stomach dropped, and she took a few steadying breaths. "There was no doctor," she said. "I didn't see the need for it."

"You didn't see the need," he repeated slowly.

"No. Because-as Julian said later-I could go from doctor to doctor until I found one who would give me the answer I wanted."

Merripen let out a breath that sounded like a scrape in his throat. He shook his head. "Jesus."

Win had never seen him look so devastated, beyond shouting or anger. She moved toward him with her hand outstretched. "Kev, please, let me-"

"Don't. Please." He was struggling visibly to control himself.

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I wanted you so much, and I was going to have to marry Julian, and I thought if I told you about having seen another doctor, it would… well, push you a bit."

He turned away from her, his hands clenched.

"It makes no difference," Win said, trying to sound calm, trying to think above the desperate pounding of her heart. "It changes nothing, especially after today."

"It makes a difference if you lie to me," he said in a guttural tone.

Romany males could not countenance being manipulated by their women. And she had broken Merripen's trust at a time when he had been particularly vulnerable. He had let down his guard, had let her inside. But how else could she have had him?

"I didn't feel I had a choice," she said. "You're impossibly stubborn when your mind is made up. I didn't know how to change it."

"Then you've just lied again. Because you're not sorry."

"I'm sorry that you're hurt and angry, and I understand how much you-"

She broke off as Merripen moved with astonishing swiftness, seizing her by the upper arms, bringing her up against the wall. His snarling face descended close to hers. "If you understood anything, you wouldn't expect me to give you a baby that will kill you."

Rigid and trembling, she stared into his eyes until she was drowning in darkness. She gulped a deep breath before managing to say stubbornly, "I'll see as many doctors as you like. We'll gather a full variety of opinions, and you can calculate the odds. But no one can predict of a certainty what will happen. And none of it will change how I intend to spend the rest of my life. I will live it on my terms. And you… you can have all of me or nothing. I won't be an invalid any longer. Not even if it means losing you."

"I don't take ultimatums," he said, giving her a little shake. "Least of all from a woman."

Win's eyes went blurry, and she damned the rising tears. She wondered in furious despair why fate seemed determined to withhold from her the ordinary life that other people took for granted. "You arrogant Rom," she said hoarsely. "It's not your choice; it's mine. My body. My risk. And it may already be too late. I may have already conceived-"

"No." He gripped her head and pressed his forehead to hers, his breath striking her lips in bursts of heat. "I can't do this," he said raggedly. "I won't be forced into hurting you."

"Just love me." Win wasn't aware that she was crying until she felt his mouth on her face, his throat vibrating with low growls as he licked at her tears. He kissed her desperately, savaging her mouth with a wildness that made her quiver from head to toe. As he crushed his body against hers, she felt the prodding of his arousal even through the bunched layers of their clothes. It sent a shock of response through all her veins, and she felt her intimate flesh prickling, turning wet. She wanted him inside her, to pull him deep and close, to pleasure him until his ferocity was soothed.

She reached down to the stiff length of him, kneading and gripping until he groaned into her mouth.

She pulled her lips free long enough to gasp, "Take me to bed, Kev. Take me.…"

But he shoved away from her with a vicious curse.

"Kev-"

A scalding glance, and he left the room, the door trembling on its hinges from the abrupt slam.