Scandalous Liaisons

He needed her love. Right now.



Olivia had shown him what it was like to be cared for, what it was like to be happy, not merely on the outside, but deep in his soul.



He couldn’t take many more encounters with her disregard. His father’s neglect had ceased to be of any consequence when he was still a child, but Olivia . . . His sweet, passionate Olivia. Her anger and remoteness were killing him.



Sebastian ran an agitated hand through his hair. Nothing to hold him to her, she said. He would change that.



He would bind himself to her, to the land, to his cursed family. He would prove to her that he could change, as long as she would be his.



As long as she would love him again.



Chapter Seven



Olivia woke with a start, immediately aware of her husband’s large body wrapped possessively around her. She froze for a moment, wondering what to do.



“Morning, my love,” he murmured in a deliciously sleep-raspy voice.



“Sebastian,” she whispered, acutely conscious of the soreness of her nipples and the ache between her thighs. “I—”



“Shush, no arguing today.” He moved, freeing her.



She leapt from his embrace and ducked behind the privacy screen, her heart racing with joy at finding him in her bed again.



Silly, stupid heart. A glutton for punishment.



As she washed with the cold water from the pitcher, she heard him rise. When the knock came to the door, she reached for her robe, then stilled midmovement, surprised to hear Sebastian order hot water for her bath, along with strong coffee. She heard the amused giggle of the chambermaid and shot a glance around the screen. Her eyes widened in horror to find Sebastian standing in the doorway wearing only a sheet. Furious, she stormed toward him, yanking him out of the way of the slamming door.



He bit back a roguish grin and arched a brow. “Yes, my love?” His gaze raked the length of her wet and still naked form. “I am always eager to oblige your carnal desires. No need to accost me.”



“Oooh!” She turned from him, clenching her fists. “It is indecent for you to call the servants up here while you are unclothed!”



He laughed. “I would have retrieved a robe from my room, but the door appears to be missing.”



Olivia turned to face him again, which was a mistake. Sebastian had discarded the sheet and stalked toward her with obvious sexual intent, his erect cock leading the way. “Damnation! Cover that thing!”



“I intend to,” he purred. “With you.”



She threw up her hands. “After last night, how can you possibly be so amorous? You hardly allowed me to sleep. I’m exhausted.”



“’Tis your fault,” he retorted. “I was fine until you started traipsing around the room naked.”



“I was not traipsing!” she protested, hurrying toward the relative safety of the screen and her robe. “I was merely curbing your ridiculous flirting. She’s a mere slip of a girl—”



“Exactly,” he interjected, catching her about the waist and easily subduing her. “And my wife is more than enough woman for me. Jealousy and all.”



“I’m not jealous!”



He dropped to his knees with easy grace and laid her down. He rose above her, his long hair hanging around them, and she paused her thrashing, arrested by the magnificent sight of him. He slipped a hand between her legs and grinned. “Ah, no foreplay required.” Spreading her thighs wide, he thrust into her. “Umm . . . I missed the feel of you. You are even softer and more curvaceous than I remembered.” His mouth latched around a straining nipple.



Olivia gasped as he filled her completely, infusing her with drugging pleasure. “The rug . . .”



“We’ll buy another.” He withdrew and then thrust again. Hard.



She writhed beneath him. “The servants . . .”



“They’ll wait.” Pulling her legs around his waist, he settled into a fierce, almost brutal rhythm. “God . . . Olivia . . . I love you . . .”



“Sebastian, you—”



“Hang it, woman! Cease talking.”



He took her mouth with desperate kisses, his hard body straining over and inside of her. Her hands cupped his flexing buttocks, and she moaned, relishing the feel of his body working its way into hers. Deep inside, she could feel him, stretching, prodding, stroking her deeply with unfailing skill. Tucking his arms under her knees, he held her wide as he pumped inside her, driving her quickly to the edge and then shoving her over. She was crying out her pleasure when the knock came to the door.



Olivia shoved at his sweat-slick shoulders, mortified.



“Wait!” he growled, his pace quickening until he was pistoning into her without mercy.



“Sebastian!” she choked out. “They’ll hear us!”



“Yes,” he gasped. “Come for me again, and let the whole house hear you.”



She moaned, arching beneath him, dissolving in voluptuous bliss. When the orgasm swept over her, she cried out again, unable to contain it. Sebastian cursed when he came, his entire body stiffening before melting into powerful shudders.



Sated, he pressed kisses against her throat. “I love you,” he whispered.



And though her lips said nothing, her heart replied in kind.



Sebastian watched his wife over his newspaper at the breakfast table and made a concerted effort not to smile. Olivia refused to look any of the servants in the eye, blushing to the tips of her ears when any of them spoke to her. He found it fascinating. After all, the woman had nearly unmanned him with his own blade and threatened seasoned pirates with a pistol. But apparently those were deeds she was comfortable with. Having two footmen and a slip-of-a-girl chambermaid hear their abandoned fucking was more than she could bear with dignity.



He licked a dab of honey from his lip and felt contented. No woman could respond to a man the way Olivia had and remain unaffected. Not that he discounted her fury. He deserved it, after all. And he would pay whatever penance was required.



She was his better half, adept at all of the things he tripped over, and yet a match for the untamed and uncivilized man within him. She was his counterpart, his soul mate, and he’d hurt her terribly, an offense he considered unforgivable. But he would correct his mistake. He had to.



“What are our plans for the day, love?”



She glanced up sharply. “I . . . I have a meeting this afternoon. And then a fitting at the dressmaker’s.”



“Excellent. I have an appointment as well. What time is your fitting? I’ll escort you.”



Her eyebrows rose to meet her hairline. “Beg your pardon?”



“Well, I must meet with our man-of-affairs, sweeting, and make arrangements to visit the Dunsmore estates. It should be a lovely trip. We’ll take a few months, and see them all.”



“A trip?” she repeated, dumbfounded.



“That’s what I said.”



Olivia stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. He bit his cheek to keep from grinning.



Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut. “Two o’clock.”



“Lovely, just enough time to attend to my affairs.” He pushed back from the table and dropped his paper over his plate. “I shall see you then.” He gripped the back of her chair, tipping her on the hind legs until she was looking straight up at him.



“Sebastian! Good heavens, the servants . . .”



He kissed her breathless. “I love you.”



Righting her chair, he left the room before she could reply, whistling as he collected his hat and cane from the butler and swept out the door. He vaulted into the waiting coach. It wasn’t long before he stood on the landing of his man-of-affairs’ small, nondescript office.



“Your lordship!” Benjamin Wilson quickly pulled the door all the way open. “I wasn’t aware you had returned.”



“I arrived last eventide. How are you, Wilson?”



“Quite well, my lord. And you?”



“Good. Did you hire the investigator I requested?” Sebastian handed his cane and hat to his footman, then moved into the office. He sank into a chair facing the desk.



“Of course!” Wilson assured him, slightly offended. “I am sorry to say, the man I hired was unable to gather as much information as I would have liked. After your departure, Lady Merrick quickly became all the rage, rendering it nearly impossible to make inquiries with any discretion.”



Wilson opened a locked drawer in his desk and removed a file with a variety of protruding newspaper clippings. “Most of the information gathered about her came from these.”



Sebastian made no move to open the folder. “I’ll peruse them in depth later. Give me a condensed version, if you will.”



“Certainly.” Wilson sat back in his chair. “Lady Merrick’s first Season was rather uneventful. Very little mention is made of her in the gossip columns other than casual references to her great beauty and sense of style. Her father’s business in trade most likely made her unacceptable to most members of the Quality, and it was widely known that Lady Crenshaw sponsored her only because of the large debt Lord Crenshaw owed to Mr. Lambert.”



Sebastian grinned. “I’d wager there is many a peer who regrets his pomposity now, eh?”



“Definitely, my lord,” Wilson agreed, nodding. “You made a wise choice.”



“I suppose I shall have to thank my father for that one day.” Sebastian sighed. “Regardless, please continue.”



“Lady Merrick’s popularity increased tremendously during her second Season, when she caught the eye of Lord Haversham.”



“The devil you say!” Sebastian cried, sitting bolt upright in his seat. Back in their Oxford days, Haversham had been a friend of his. But when Sebastian had turned into a completely worthless, dissolute, immoral scoundrel, Haversham had quickly put distance between them.



Wilson frowned. “Yes, Lord Haversham courted Lady Merrick doggedly for the entire Season. There was heavy speculation that he would be offering for her.”



“Hell’s teeth.” Compared to the angelic Haversham, he was Mephistopheles.



“But in the end, Viscount Haversham did not pay his addresses. He cast her off quite unexpectedly in favor of Lady Chelsea Markham, the Earl of Radcliff’s youngest daughter. She, in turn, cast him off in favor of Lord St. Martin.” Wilson shook his head sadly. “The scandal that accompanied the very public jilting ruined Lady Merrick. She left London soon after and did not return until she came home as your bride.”



He understood now why she had been hiding out in the West Indies and why her father had married her by proxy. Olivia had been running, too.



Sebastian was slightly put out to think that perhaps he hadn’t been her first choice in husbands, but he quickly passed over the disgruntlement. She was his now; her past meant nothing.



Rising, he headed toward the front door.



“My lord! The clippings!”



“Burn them. I have what I need. Good work, Wilson. I’ll be in touch. Make appointments to meet with the family stewards over the next few weeks.”



Sebastian leapt into his waiting carriage and headed for home.



Olivia held a hand to her side and released a deep breath. The baby was beginning to move, tiny flutters of life that awed and amazed her.



“Ready, love?” Sebastian asked from the doorway.



She dropped her hand quickly. “Is it time already?” She swept past him, collecting her hat and gloves from the butler.



“Yes.” Clutching her elbow, he studied her with a frown. “Are you unwell? You looked peaked.”



“I’m fine. A bit tired is all.”



He flushed, and she hid a smile. It wasn’t fair he looked so rested when she was exhausted.



His touch was gentle and solicitous as he assisted her into the waiting carriage. Tucked against his side, Olivia wished the ride to Pall Mall were longer. If only she could convince him to stay with her forever. Against better reason, she hoped that he would.



As if he read her thoughts, Sebastian hugged her close and said, “I won’t leave you again. I’ll tell you that every minute of every day until you believe me.”



“You may have to do that very thing,” she replied, snuggling closer.



“Then I shall, my love. I shall.”



And with Sebastian’s heartfelt promise, she felt renewed hope. She rested her head against his chest and smiled. “I’m horribly smitten with you.”



“Smitten.” He grunted. “You’re mad for me.” He squeezed her and lowered his voice. “As I am for you.”



Once they reached the busy thoroughfare, they left the carriage and began to stroll, stopping to window-shop as they made their way to the modiste.



“Lord and Lady Merrick.”



They both turned. Olivia smiled at the approaching couple. The man, tall and superbly fit, boasted eyes of the most startling color. Somewhere between purple and deep blue, they were devastating. The woman on his arm, slender and graceful, offered a luminous smile.



“Remington,” Sebastian greeted, offering his hand. “How are you, old chap?



Remington shook it heartily and grinned. “I thought that was you, Merrick, although without the presence of Lady Merrick to confirm it, I would not have said anything. You look positively piratical. You need only an earring to complete the picture.” He brought his companion forward. “Julienne, this is the prodigal Lord Merrick. Merrick, allow me to present my wife, Lady Julienne.”



Lady Julienne smiled and offered her hand, shooting an amused glance at Olivia. “So there is indeed a Lord Merrick.”



Olivia choked back a laugh.



Sebastian didn’t bother—he laughed outright. “Olivia, love. Have you made the acquaintance of Lucien Remington and his lovely wife?”



She nodded. “I have.”



“I’ve a favor to ask, my lord,” Remington said. “I need some new horseflesh and was hoping I could convince you to join me at Tattersall’s tomorrow.”