Highland Heat 2 - All The King's Men (6 page)

My lover continued to fuck the barrel of the pistol in and out of Wolfe’s mouth in a lewd mimicry of the sexual act, forcing him to slurp upon it until the man’s downcast eyes began to water. Only then did my lover finally pull the gun free, releasing Wolf and letting him collapse.
 

“Now let that be an object lesson to you,” Major Anderson said, straightening to his full height. “To all of you, actually.”

“You’re a
madman
,” Wolfe gasped from the floor.

Major Anderson tilted his head. “Quite possibly, yes. So I would avoid provoking me in future…” With that, James grasped my elbow and clasped me against him with surprising gentleness. “Can you put yourself together, my dear, or do you need assistance?”

“I—I can do it,” I whispered, getting into my clothes, even if I failed to get them all the way fastened. As thrilled as I was that he had rescued me, I was fearful, too. Both of the cold, hard, savagery I’d seen him exhibit in my defense, and also of the other men in this room, all of whom had pistols of their own.

But the Major knew these men better than I did, and managed to knock down the tension a notch by clapping one of the men on the back. “Too much drink spoils the fun, gentlemen. The next time we wish to engage in such sport together, let’s water it down a tad, shall we? I’m sure we won’t remember a thing from tonight.”

And all of them but the man on the floor murmured their agreement that they’d been far too sauced.

~~~

Having retreated with me to his quarters, my lover clasped my face in both hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Bloody hell, Sorcha, I saw him strike you. God forgive me, I don’t know what you were subjected to before I put a stop to it. Shall I summon a physician?”

“No, no,” I confessed, clinging to him. Crying a little bit from the fear of it. “I’ve not come to harm, but I’m shaken. Terribly shaken.”

He grimaced. “Of course you are.
Christ
, this is my fault. I never thought them capable of harming you. Even now, I can scarcely conceive of any man enjoying your favor without wanting to fall to his knees in gratitude! I should never have left you alone with them. Never.”

“I wanted to do it,” I said, still trembling from head to toe. “I wanted to do it for the pleasure of it. I wanted to do it to hurt you, or to hurt myself, I don’t know. I wanted to do it to help you find the evidence you needed.”

“Well, I found it,” he said, stroking my sore cheek where Wolfe’s palm had landed. “Not that it was worth it. Please believe me, Sorcha, I wouldn’t trade it for the safety of a hair on your head. Please say that you believe me.”

“I believe you,” I whispered, because I was grateful that he’d come to rescue me, but more fearful than ever. “But did you have to pull a pistol on the man?”

“Absolutely. Because when I saw you in distress—and all for my sake—I knew I would never forgive myself unless someone was made to pay. I would have spattered that man’s brains on the wall if need be. Believe
that
.”

I did believe it. I had seen it in his eyes when he head the pistol to Wolfe’s head. And Wolfe had seen it too. My major might not feel jealousy of another man touching me, but he
did
feel rage at the sight of anyone harming me. And that made me feel things for him—things I had forbidden myself to feel. “But, what you’ve risked! We’ll not be safe sleeping without an eye open for fear of reprisal.”

“Do you think any of those men will take up for Wolfe?” the major asked. “No. They disliked him before. I’ve now disgraced and humiliated him in their eyes. Men do not take up the cause of those they laugh at. And they certainly will not take up his cause when he is hauled before a tribunal for his crimes.”

“It was Wolfe, then?”

“Yes,” he replied, still stroking my cheek tenderly. “Though I didn’t expect it to be. My money was on Boyd. It’s often a brutal criminal who hides behind a good nature. It’s the rare criminal who is exactly as he seems.”

There would be justice, then. And I’d helped bring it about.

I could at least take solace in that.

In the hours that followed, I rinsed my mouth. I chewed cloves. I threw my ruined dress on the fire. Later, in a hot bath that he arranged for me himself, hauling hot buckets of water from where I didn’t know, James sponged me softly. Worshipfully. Mournfully. “My God, Sorcha. My
God
,” he repeated. “I do not dare ask your forgiveness. But I will never ask you to do anything like that again. When I think what could have happened…”

“You wouldn’t have let it happen.”

Very seriously, he said, “I would kill or die to protect you, Sorcha. I am besotted with you. It isn’t right that I am. It isn’t becoming of my profession. But I
am
besotted with you. You need not feel the same, but you need to know it. You need to know the truth. Which is that I, James Blair, Viscount Tilney, heir to the Earl of Castlemane, am besotted with you. And I will make this up to you somehow. That I vow on my sacred honor, and the honor of my family name.”

I felt strangely as if the warm water were swallowing me up. As if I was drowning, but in a pleasant way. As if the rest of the world were far away and I could scarcely hear his words. Perhaps I was sleeping. Dreaming a very strange dream. A dream in which I was the mistress not only to a bloody English spymaster, but to a bloody English
lord
!

He had just told me who he was. His family name. His title.
 

“Am I the only one who knows?” I asked.

“No. There are noblemen amongst the officers. I am known to a few.”

“But if I told someone that, would it cause you trouble?”

“If you told the wrong person my identity, it would cause me quite a lot of trouble, yes.”

“Would it put you in danger?”

His eyes met mine. “Yes, it would. Which is why I told you, Sorcha. Knowledge is power. I have abused my power over you. You now have the opportunity to do the same.”

My heart gave a soft, dull, thump at the thought of hurting him. My anger had washed away with the bath water. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore. I wanted to kiss him, and not from lust, but from some other emotion.

When I touched his cheek with wet fingers, he gave a start, then turned his lips to my hand to kiss my palm, again and again. “Can you forgive me for tonight, Sorcha? Can you
ever
forgive me?”

“Yes,” I said, stretching up from the water to press a soft kiss to his lips. Our tongues touched tenderly, and he sucked my lower lip gently between his.

He sensed, I think, that something had changed in that kiss.

I had kissed him before, but this was different.

“Can you love me?” he wondered, stroking my hair.

“I don’t know,” I said, drawing him down into the water, clothes, and leather boots and all.
 

He didn’t fight me in the slightest, letting the water spill onto the floorboards. Letting all good sense flow away. And once he was atop me, his whole body sheltering me from the world, I said, “I didn’t love you in the beginning. I didn’t think it was possible to love you. But of course, how a thing begins, is seldom how it ends, is it?”

CHERA ZADE
loves writing sexy, sordid stories that sizzle through history. And she's always working to give you more hot sex with hunky historical heroes that will satisfy your rough and riskiest cravings. From English to Farsi, Ancient Rome to the Orient, Chera's imagination gallops through the histories of humankind. Having discovered a penchant for entertaining Saudi sheiks and Princes with her talented tongue, she became a favorite and much seen fixture at the Camel Races from Dubai to Karachi. Plus, she spins a mean yarn, just like her namesake!
 

Please look for new stories by Chera on her
author’s page
and
newotica.com
!

Read More Historical Erotica by Chera…

Gladiator/Rome/Ancient
Claudia: Plundered by Praetorians

Reward for the Gladiators
The Handmaiden: Taken by the Gladiators
Seduced by the Senators

Viking
Brigette: Taken by Vikings
Conquered by Vikings
The Slave Queen
Ravished by the Vikings
Vinland Revelries: Taken by the Vikings

Highlanders/Scottish
Ravished by Redcoats

Medieval/Renaissance

Punished at the Pillory
Sacrificed for Spring
Servicing the King's Men
For the King's Pleasure
Paying the Price: Taken by Knights

Ravished by the King's Guard

Pirates/Sheiks
Stuffed by the Sheik's Caravan

Lady is a Wench

Pummeled by Pirates