Chapter Twenty-One
“I became a bare-knuckled boxer for money,” Ian said.
“At eighteen?” The sport was brutal and he would have been fighting much older men.
“I was tall and fit. But the truth is that I had little choice. My funds were quickly depleted, and I needed a place to stay and food to eat. I met Brooks one night at a tavern. A bar brawl broke out, and I was in the thick of it. I was thrown out by the tavern owner, and Brooks followed me. He dragged me away, tended to my wounds, and fed me my first hot meal in weeks. He told me I had a solid punch and arranged for my first boxing match the following night.”
Saddened at the tale, her smile quickly faded. At eighteen, Ian was barely a man in her opinion—an earl’s son who’d been ousted from a life of privilege and forced to fight for his next meal.
“Did you win your matches?”
“Almost always,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his voice. “I saved my winnings and, over time, I had earned enough to open the club. Brooks went with me.”
“I see.”
His expression stilled and grew serious. “Do you?”
“Boxing is dangerous. Bare-knuckle boxing is far worse. I can’t imagine you would have lived a long, healthy life if you’d continued on that reckless path. The Raven Club gave you financial security.”
“It did. I was no longer the unwanted son who was dependent on my father for survival.”
“Your father was wrong, Ian. You were never a wastrel,” she said.
Ian’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “The old earl’s reasons were his own. I didn’t shed a tear when he died.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“He came to the club one day. He didn’t know it was my establishment. After he lost a good amount at my tables, I took great delight in enlightening him.”
She wanted to touch him, to tell him he was better than what he’d been raised to believe. “Your father should have been proud of what you had accomplished.”
Ian gave a hoarse laugh. “Proud? He hated me.”
“He sounded like a pitiful man.”
“Pitiful?” Ian said. “I never thought of him as such. He was a strict disciplinarian. A hard man who had little affection for his offspring.”
Her thoughts turned and something clicked in her mind. “One of the charities I saw in the ledgers was for an asylum. I didn’t understand your reasons for supporting such a place until now. You thought of Madeline, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “She was the daughter of an aristocrat and as such would never end up in one of those filthy institutions. Others are not as fortunate.”
“I’m beginning to understand you.”
“I don’t understand myself.”
“Our past is what shapes us. Your past made you the man you are today. You aren’t as cold or as unfeeling as you want others to believe.”
He looked at her incredulously. “I’m not sure whether I consider that a compliment or an insult. At my club, I prefer to be viewed as cunning and cutthroat.”
“Your ledgers tell another story entirely.”
“Thankfully, only you can read them,” he said gruffly.
She came close and touched his cheek. “We have more in common than I’d believed.”
His hand covered hers and held her there. “Such as?”
“Both of our fathers have failed us. Their failure was in different ways, but I fear the result is similar. We were left to fend for ourselves. You fought for money. I kept the books to pay the creditors.”
Her body responded to his physical appeal, but her mind reacted to the man. A large part of her admired him for not just surviving by using his fists, but more so for his grit and determination to invest his earnings and start a business. A very successful business.
Even if the enterprise was one she despised.
He could have spent every shilling he’d won in the ring on drink, women, and gaming, but he had not. He’d worked and invested.
“You need never worry about money again,” he said.
Her heart ached in her chest. “I know, and for that I am grateful.” She touched his lips with her forefinger, and he gently nipped the tip and swirled his tongue around it.
She gasped at the sensations and the undeniable spark of desire in Ian’s eyes. Then his gaze lowered to her mouth, and she recalled the pleasure of being held against his body, of his lips caressing hers. Her breath quickened, and she feared that with one encouraging word from his lips, she would sink to her knees and ask him to join her on the soft carpet.
“Grace, no one can see us through the window.”
“What?”
“We can see out, but the bright candlelight of the chandeliers prevents anyone from seeing inside this room.”
She finally understood his intent and her pulse lurched. Her treacherous body reacted strongly to his virile pull, and she knew that she wanted him again. Here. Now. Even above the sinful vices going on below that had led to the destruction of her remaining parent and her family. Perhaps she could exorcise this obsession and then think with a clear heart and a conscience.
“You swore to keep me from your bed,” he said.
“I did.”
“There wasn’t a bed in the library, and there isn’t one here, either.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t step back. “You’re right.” She knew exactly what he wanted. She wanted it, too. “There is no bed here.”
Primal satisfaction glinted in his gaze. His lids lowered, and she waited for him to pull her close, to hungrily cover her mouth with his.
…
Ian craved her with a fierce hunger. “I’ve wanted to take you in this room the first time I saw you,” he said hoarsely.
She looked at him in surprise. “You did?”
“Oh, yes. I never bring women upstairs, but there was something about you. You didn’t belong here. You were innocence and temptation at once, and I was drawn to you like no other.”
“I was afraid of you,” she said.
His large hand took her face and held it gently. “And now?”
Her blue eyes met his with shimmering honesty. “No longer.”
He lowered his head, and she stood on tiptoe and met his mouth. He kissed her thoroughly, and she met him with equal abandon. Soon he wanted more. He wanted everything. His lips blazed a path down her throat to the tops of her breasts.
“I need to see you. To touch you.”
“Yes.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. She turned, and he made quick work of the buttons on her gown, then her stays, until the dress was loose and the silk slipped to the floor. Wearing only her shift, she turned to face him. Desire burned in her eyes.
She was lovely. Utterly lovely.
And his.
He stared at her, his breathing labored. Then she reached for the dainty bow at the neckline of her shift. He watched, his mouth dry as she untied the pretty ribbon and the shift, too, slid to the carpet. She stood before him bare except for her white stockings and garters.
Blood pumped hot and heavy in his veins. “You are perfect.”
His hands rose to his cravat, but she stopped him. “Let me.” She stepped close and reached for his cravat and began to slip it from its knot. It was erotic torture.
She soon divested him of his coat and waistcoat. His skin was tight with need by the time she’d stripped him of his shirt. Her fingers brushed against his chest. When at long last, she reached for the flap of his trousers, and began to work the buttons, he wanted to push her hands away and make quick work of the task. She sensed his impatience and gave him a warning look.
“Hold still,” she said.
Finally, his cock sprang free. He tugged off his own boots and discarded his trousers. They stood staring at each other for a heartbeat, breathing hard, then he reached for her, swept her off her feet, and laid her on the thick carpet beneath the window. Light from the chandeliers of the gaming floor reflected off her curves and hollows. He’d stood staring out the window countless times but never had he seen such a magnificent sight. She was like a goddess offered to him.
His goddess.
And he would feast like he’d desired from the moment he’d seen her.
He kissed her breasts, and she sighed and arched toward him. He marveled at her sweet response, urging him on. He lifted her leg and peeled down her stocking and garter and then moved to the other.
His lips trailed a path down her stomach and paused to press a kiss to her navel, then lower still, to the top of the soft curls between her legs.
She must have sensed his intent because she rose on her elbows, her dark hair cascading down her back. “Ian?”
“Shh, love. Let me love you the way I’ve longed to.”
He blew on the curls, teasing them with his hot breath, before parting her slowly. The sight of her glistening for him heightened his need. He lowered his head, licking her once.
“God, the taste of you.”
She moaned and the sound heightened his already fierce craving. He was harder than he’d ever been, driven to give her pleasure. She arched toward him, urging him on. He hooked her leg around his shoulder and grazed a finger down her wet slit. She cried out.
“Let me.” He parted her and swirled his tongue over the straining bud. She grasped his hair and tossed her head from side to side. He was enthralled at the way she writhed beneath him. Then he gave a leisurely lick, and she cried out as she reached her climax.
Her eyes opened, a vivid blue, and she sighed. “Ian.”
He’d never been more aroused in his life. He needed to be inside her, deeply embedded, until they were one. She opened her arms, and he moved between her legs and drove into her welcoming heat with one powerful thrust.
Her slickness encased him, held him tightly. He began to move and she joined him, meeting his wild thrusts with an urgency that drove him on, heightening his pleasure even further.
“Come for me,” he said.
She screamed his name with her release. Her tight sheath gripped him, and with one last thrust, he exploded and came deep and fast within her.
She went boneless against him, her heart pounding against his. His own breathing was harsh, and he turned to the side and held her tightly against him.
His heart rate slowed. He tenderly kissed her forehead, her lips. “Are you all right?” His need had been fierce, and he hadn’t been gentle when he took her.
She reached out to caress his cheek. “That was miraculous.”
It was.
He picked up a long lock of dark hair that rested across his arm and caressed it between his fingers. An unwanted emotion tightened in his chest. She had great power over him. He’d thought to bring her here would banish her fears and insecurities about the club. Instead, he’d ending up binding himself to her, ruining him for other pleasure.
He frowned. He’d made a decision to keep the Raven Club after he’d married. He believed he could maintain his lifestyle and insisted a wife would not change his ways. Now, he felt like he was losing control.
Ian had always thought of himself as brutal and cutthroat when he’d wanted something. And he wanted his club and her.
Things used to be easy for him. He used to be detached from others, but now Grace was threatening to tear down his barriers. He needed to maintain his resolve and the fierce discipline that had driven him for over a decade. There was only one way he could keep his sanity and the Raven Club without losing Grace.
…
It was earth-shattering. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe it would be like this between them. Ian had made love to her tenderly and passionately, and the invisible web between them had grown stronger.
“Was it as you imagined it here?” Ian asked.
Grace touched his cheek. “The club or this room?”
“Both.”
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “No. They were both different.”
They had been. She hadn’t felt the bone-seated disgust or dislike of the casino floor when she’d been escorted on Ian’s arm. Neither did she feel the desperation or anger when he’d brought her to this room. She’d experienced other emotions entirely—excitement that he’d actually applied her recommendations, then desire and ecstasy in his arms. But now that her body had cooled, she began to wonder just what she wanted of him. A nagging guilt centered in her chest.
“I realize I have yet to take you in a bed, but I want to,” he said.
She understood. He wanted her forgiveness and acceptance. He wanted her to accept him as her husband. The earl who owned a gambling club.
Could she do it?
Did she have a choice?
“Ian, I’m grateful you shared your past with me. I’m even thankful that you showed me the Raven Club.”
She read the question in his eyes. Could she accept him?
The question hovered in the air between them but remained unanswered. She was afraid to bring up the topic and ruin the moment. He didn’t mention it. It seemed that the fate of the Raven Club would have to be addressed at another time. Another day.
Maybe she could look past all that she’d believed and lived…every miserable experience with her father…to be with Ian. She acknowledged he did good with the club’s profits, and the donations could be used to better the lives of children in need.
Yes, maybe the good outweighed the wretched sins.
He reached for her. “Let us go home.”