Page 75 of The Duke and the Darkness

Beneath a rush of emotions, she arched her back and broke with a shuddering cry. He thrust deep into her tight warmth and held himself there. His body tensed against hers, and she felt his thighs clench as the rush of his release surged inside her, as her body quivered around his to milk every sweet drop from him. A second pulse of joy gripped her.

Devlin lay over her, his spent length still buried inside her, as he fought to regain his breath. He gathered her into his arms beneath him and nuzzled the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I didn’t mean to come inside you like that.” He placed an apologetic kiss to her nape and explained simply, “I lost control.”

The happiness that rose inside her at his quiet confession thrilled her as much as their joining of bodies—no.More.This happiness filled her heart until the foolish thing wanted to burst from her chest. She, alone, had the power to destroy the hard-won control he’d fought so hard for so long to manage, just as he was the only man capable of melting her heart. She held no regrets about giving herself to him. And never would.

“You don’t have to be in control,” she whispered into the shadows around them. “Not with me.”

He nuzzled her shoulder. Neither of them was in a hurry to release the other and end the moment. Then she felt him tense, and she held her breath—

“Don’t go to France. When all this is over, stay here.” He placed a kiss to her shoulder so tenderly that she ached from it. “With me.” He murmured breathlessly into her ear, “I’ll tell my mother and sisters the truth about what our fathers did, once Horrender’s caught and can’t harm any of us ever again.”

He was giving her what she wanted. But what he expected in return…could she do it? Could she stay in England and begin a new life in the place that had taken the old one?

A hot tear slid down her cheek, and she whispered the only consolation she could offer, “I love you, Devlin.”

His arms tightened around her. “I love you, too.”

A long breath eased from her. There were no secrets left between them now. She was drained, physically and emotionally, and what she knew, without any doubt as he held her safe within his arms, was more than that he’d finally agreed to tell the truth about his father, more than that she could trust in him and take comfort in his strength and solidity—

She knew she had to find a way to put the past behind them. Once and for all.

Chapter Twenty

Peyton stood onthe footpath edging the wide Mayfair avenue and stared up at the old townhouse as the bells of St George’s rang the midnight hour. Four bays wide, three stories tall, made of white stone and edged by wrought iron, the windows still shuttered against the night and against the past… The Chandler townhouse.

Her home.

Only it didn’t feel at all like home. Instead, she felt as if she’d fallen into one of the nightmares she used to have when she’d first fled to France, when thoughts of home and all she’d lost hit her so hard, she often woke sobbing with tears. Proctor and Wilkins did their best to comfort her, but even their love and attention couldn’t give her the consolation she needed. Nothing could. Her parents and the only home she’d ever known had been ripped away from her. How she’d managed to survive…

Perhaps Devlin was right. Perhaps she was stronger than she’d realized.

Now the shell of that former existence stood before her, silent and dark…lifeless. She’d avoided coming here since she’d arrived in London. She’d told herself she’d been too focused on gaining her revenge to visit here, too cautious about making mistakes that might have revealed her true identity.Lies.She’d simply been too frightened of the ghosts haunting the place.

As she gazed at the façade, she held her breath and strained her ears to listen for any sound.

Silence.

Her shoulders sagged. What else would have greeted her if not silence and stillness? She didn’t really know what she’d expected to happen now that she was finally here. Even as she stared up at the house, not yet daring to venture a toe over the threshold, she half-expected specters to come drifting out of the darkness toward her.

But the only way forward was through that front door. So she stepped up the front stairs, took a deep breath to steel herself, and opened it. A slow creak welcomed her as the door swung wide and revealed the darkness beyond.

A chill ran down Peyton’s spine. This was the very last place she wanted to be! But Chase and Devlin insisted she come here tonight. They could protect her here. Even now, in the darkness surrounding the house, she knew the two dukes and their hired men lingered somewhere unseen in the black shadows lining the street, watching over her but remaining hidden until necessary.

But their presence provided little comfort. Horrender would be coming for her, if not tonight then tomorrow, and she had to let herself be found.

“Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly,” she murmured and with a shaking hand, lifted the small carriage lantern she carried with her to guide her way. Having no other choice, she stepped inside.

She paused in the entry hall. Goosebumps formed on her arms and legs that had nothing to do with Horrender. Apprehension knotted her belly, and she forced herself to breathe slow and steadily.

Oh, she was being silly! There was no good reason for the chill that swept over her, or the tingle at the back of her knees.

“It’s only an empty house,” she whispered to calm herself.

When she entered the dining room, she realized exactly how empty. Gone—everything she remembered about the room had been removed, leaving only a gaping space. No large table that could seat fourteen, no Chippendale buffet tables, no china dresser—nochina.Her mother’s treasured collection was gone, along with all the crystal and silver that had made their dinner parties so grand. So were the large porcelain vases with their tall ostrich feathers that had once framed both sides of the bay window overlooking the square, the rug that had come all the way from Persia, the Murano glass chandelier her father had given her mother as an anniversary present… Even the marble fireplace mantel had been pried away, leaving a massive scar on the wall in its place.

It was the same in her father’s study, where empty book shelves now lined the walls, and in the garden room where her mother had loved to take in the afternoon sun and gaze out at her tiny plot of flowers. All the rooms on the ground floor had been stripped bare, most likely by creditors who feared their debts wouldn’t be paid any other way, given how the estate had no heir.