Chapter One
Sneaking away from Halstead Manor curdled something inside Julianna. If she stayed, her brother’s behavior would get worse. Nothing he did could force her to wed that lecherous old goat, Baron Cosford.
A seven-mile walk to Falmouth stretched before her. She was young and fit, but her portmanteau was so heavy that she walked with a list. Once she reached the harbor, she could hire a boat to carry her fifty miles along the coast to Plymouth. From there, she could head anywhere, do anything as she claimed her freedom. She hoped.
After a final, lingering look at her home, she shouldered her bag and trudged onward. Either dusk came early, or she’d misjudged the distance. At this rate, it’d be after midnight when she reached the Mermaid Inn.
Once there, she’d snatch a couple of hours’ sleep before she hired a seaman to ferry her along the coast. By the time her brother sobered up, she’d be well out of his reach.
The cool evening chilled her skin, fingers, and toes. Gradually, it crept into her bones. Glad of her thick cloak, she dropped her chin and plowed onward. Feet dragging, she walked as though her shoes were made of lead.
Eventually, the road turned sharply before it climbed into a copse of trees. Once through them, she’d only have to climb the hill to see Falmouth spread like a toy town below her.
The horse and rider appeared from nowhere.
Julianna sidestepped and dropped her bag. Her ankle twisted beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground. When the horseman tugged hard at the reins, the coal-black stallion reared, its forelegs pawed the air. She screamed and closed her eyes. Curled into a ball, she waited for its ebony hooves to pulverize her.
The rider swore, the horse whickering as it planted its feet in the dirt by her face. Tiny dust clouds rose from the road. She coughed and crablike, she scuttled to the fallen oak at the edge of the copse. The bracken smelled earthy, and the thick foliage cushioned her bruised ribs.
Her heart beat overtime when the horseman dismounted and stalked toward her. Wearing a black greatcoat and muffler, he towered over her. Grabbing her wrist, he hauled her upright.
Even in the evening twilight, his hair shone the same blue-black as a raven’s wing. His features were familiar, but she had no idea why. One glance at his steeply angled eyebrows and she wondered if he was the devil come to claim her.
Her brother would have grabbed her shoulders and shaken her until her head ached. That or hurled vile insults at her. Instead, the dark horseman’s eyes twinkled with good humor. She couldn’t decide if they were midnight blue or ebony black. Their mysterious depths and sloping eyebrows gave him a demonic air.
His high cheekbones were so sharp Michelangelo could have chiseled them from marble. There was a cleft in his square chin that she wanted to stroke. His broad, kissable lips made her want to lick and taste, but they were set in a stern, disapproving frown. If he smiled, his dark charisma would mesmerize any nocturnal creatures. Bats, foxes, and badgers would flock to his side.
His utter masculinity sent shudders along her spine. Devilish and terrifying, he emanated menace and danger. She should be shaking in fear, but he sparked wicked longings in her soul.
Untouched and innocent, she hated how her nipples pearled and damp heat creamed between her legs. She needed his lips pressed against hers and his hands on her body. For a woman who’d sworn never to marry, that scared her more than his fury. If not for his tight grip on her shoulders, she’d have run off into the night.
Her pulse still raced, but she buried her fear beneath a haughty manner. “Unhand me, sir. I’m late as it is.”
Rather than let go of her arm, he tugged her closer. He smelled of citrus fruits and freshly gathered mint. When her gaze meshed with his, lightning bolts sizzled between them. Head bent, he moved toward her. She puckered her lips in anticipation.
Blinking, he straightened abruptly. “I could have killed you, you little fool.”
Disappointment crushed her soul. Her ribs ached from Kit’s assault and her ankle throbbed from her fall. Sniffing back tears, she thought of her mother’s pampered cat and tried to out-stare him. “My apologies, sir. I should have been paying attention, not daydreaming along in the twilight. Since neither of us is hurt, we can go on our own ways.”
“Not until you’ve learned your lesson,” he snapped.
Pulling free from his hold, she rubbed her wrist. Nervous, she retreated toward her portmanteau, ready to grab it and run. Shooting forward, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The undignified position made her ribs throb. His hand splayed over her rear end, caressing and stroking it as he pinned her in place.
Five steps and he’d carried her back to the tree trunk. Once settled on it, he thrust her over his knee. “Naughty little girls who risk their lives deserve a spanking. And I’m just the man to give it to you.”
So scared she could barely breathe, she hit, kicked, and screamed. This black rider woke a terror in her soul, but her body welcomed his masterful touch. He hooked one leg around hers and kept his hand in the small of her back. The scandalous way he manhandled her terrified her. She fought like a wildcat, but his wicked caress ignited something wild and wanton in her psyche.
Beneath her thick gown, her pussy creamed. The ridge between his legs thickened and squashed against her belly. No shrinking violet, she’d seen animals breed. That this devil incarnate could grow hard for her made her feel powerful and feminine.
He shoved her skirt around her waist, baring her behind to the elements. “Such a lovely rounded arse.”
The cold night air brought goosebumps to her bare bottom. Shivers ran down her spine, but she didn’t know if they were from fear or her perverted desire to let him do as he willed with her. His over-familiarity should terrify her, but when he stroked her rear end, he started a wildfire in her cunny. Her body trembled and her brain melted. She struggled to think, let alone move.
Her head down, bottom up position left her vulnerable. They were in the middle of nowhere. Even if she screamed, no one would hear. He could do as he liked with her. Humiliated and scared, she wanted to weep with embarrassment. Only her pride stopped her. There was nothing good about this, but her stupid body said otherwise.
Furious at her wanton response, she ignored her need to touch and taste every inch of him. He was a bully who manhandled her because he could. She should hate this, hate him, but his take-charge attitude thrilled her.
She slapped his right leg and wriggled like a fly trapped in a spider web. His laughter fueled her fury. When she punched his left calf, her fist felt as though she’d hit a brick wall. There was no give, no softness, just a wooden appendage strapped to his knee. He’d carried her with such ease she hadn’t realized he wore a false limb.
A sharp slap landed on her behind. Shock made her cry out. It stung and burned. Involuntary tears flooded her eyes. He spanked her again and again, targeting the same spot on the curve of her rear end. Blinking hard, she refused to give this brute the satisfaction of letting her tears fall. The pain felt like a swarm of bees stinging her bottom.
Another few slaps and her control shattered. Tears ran down her cheeks, her nose ran, and she screamed for him to stop. Ignoring her protests, he continued to spank her bare behind. In between slaps, he stroked her throbbing bottom. The contrast between his gentle touch and his hard slaps accentuated the pain.
Angry and helpless, all she could she do was endure. Eel-like, she wiggled and screeched as the sharp slaps kept coming. Finally, he paused and rubbed his hand over her well-punished backside in a brief caress that thrilled her. Her fevered reaction to his touch horrified and shamed her.
Delicious sensations rippled through her cunny, as unwarranted as they were unwelcome. Every nerve in her body burned for more. Her nipples hardened into ruby-hard points and sticky juices flooded her pussy.
Stifling a moan, she wriggled and rubbed herself against his knee. Pressure grew inside her—a volcano of sensation and need. Any moment now, she’d erupt.
He chuckled and spanked her again. “I’m not done yet, little wildcat.”
His voice was deep and rumbly, drawing her in and making her weak. He was darkness and desire, a man she should despise for beating on her bottom—out in the open too. Another slap made her yelp.
He peppered his blows from her sit spots to her thighs. Fire spread from the curve of her behind to the top of her legs before exploding into passion and need. She’d never felt so horrified, so needy, or so feminine.
Ten more spanks, each harder than the last, set her screaming. Pain rippled through her bones. The rhythmic thwacks echoed through the night.
Each slap felt sharp and clear, an agonizing tornado that turned her thighs to jelly. She squirmed and sobbed as her behind burned. The needs his punishment generated inside her grew from a slow simmer to full-on boil. Another slap, and molten desires engulfed her.
Agony crescendoed through her. Her shoulders shook, and she couldn’t stem her tears. Her nose ran, and the fight went out of her. “No more. I’ll be more careful in the future. I swear it.”
Her resistance shattered, and she hung limp over this stranger’s knee. Embarrassed and humiliated, she tried to summon her anger, but the wildfire he sparked in her cunny consumed her. The wickedness of it left her craving more.
He stroked his fingers through her wet pussy. “My naughty girl liked her spanking. Are you needy? Do you ache inside? Do you want me to give you the orgasm you yearn for?”
Her thoughts scattered. He was monstrous and evil, but he woke the wanton side she hadn’t known she possessed. Unable to form an answer, she nodded. He landed another slap on her sore bottom. “I need to hear you say it. Ask me to make you come.”
She didn’t recognize that hoarse whisper as hers. “Will it hurt? It’s just I never…”
He stroked her bare bottom. “I’ll bring you nothing but pleasure.”
The indignity of her position, and her burning desire for a stranger to touch her in intimate ways horrified her. His rough handling had freed her hair from its pins. It fell in tawny blonde ringlets that swept the ground. She should say no and fight him off. Only that hadn’t worked earlier.
Her body trembled with new yearnings. “Then please, sir, make me come.”
One of his hands settled in the small of her back. The other toyed with her clit. His fingers made a V shape around it, and he stroked and pressed until she writhed across his knee.
This was wonder and magic, a strange interlude she’d never forget. When he pinched her clit, her impassioned scream rang out. She came like a river in flood.
He held her in place until the aftershocks of her powerful climax passed. When he finally released her, she slid from his lap and lay on the ground at his feet.
Once her chest stopped heaving, her thoughts unfogged. Her bottom burned but her orgasm had washed every rational thought from her brain. Body alight with desire, she felt tawdry and used. A fallen woman made for sin and seduction.
Wriggling away, she chewed on her lip. He offered her his hand to help her up. Head high, she ignored her throbbing ribs as she forced herself upright.
Her treacherous nipples poked the woolen fabric of her gown. She tugged the edges of her cloak together to hide the evidence of her arousal. She wasn’t some simpering floozy. She was Julianna Halstead, the woman who’d singlehandedly run the family estate for years.
His features came into focus, and recognition dawned. Her legs trembled, and blood drained from her face. “You! You were a despicable child, and you’ve grown into a brute of a man. But, dear Lord, you’re supposed to be dead.”
Despite his dark garb, he was no specter come to torment her. He’d haunted her childhood, always siding with her brother in his cruel games. Thanks to them, she’d become nervous and withdrawn as a child. The constant stream of toads or field mice scampering about her bedchamber hadn’t helped. Once the pair of them had put a grass snake in her bed. Her screams roused the household and her parents sent a maid to shush her. The next morning, they complained that she’d disturbed them and told her, “Boys will be boys.”
Stonehurst and Kit once tied her to a tree and forgot about her. Unable to escape the bonds, she’d shouted herself hoarse. When no one had heard her, she’d expected to die. As night fell, her fingers and toes turned numb with cold. When the gamekeeper found her and carried her home, her family hadn’t even missed her.
The world believed Stonehurst had died while fighting in the Peninsula War. After everything that had happened, she’d blamed herself for that.
Seeing him alive sent glacial chills through her body. It lifted a weight from her shoulders too, but even as an adult, he abused her. Her lips pinched in anger, but after Kit’s last beating her courage failed her. Not knowing what to say or do, she straightened her skirt and lowered her gaze.
Everyone said Viscount Stonehurst, her childhood nemesis, had died at Ciudad Rodrigo. Now, so tall she craned her neck to see his face, everything about him left her heart blazing with need.
Like the demon he resembled, Stonehurst had risen from the dead to taunt her. He made a mocking bow. “As you can see, I’m very much alive, whatever my father may have told you.”
[divider]Chapter Two
Julianna’s brow furrowed. Stonehurst’s reappearance stunned her. Eight years ago, his father had announced his son’s death. A fortnight later, Parson Phillips led a memorial service in his honor. Now he’d returned from the dead, but he hadn’t improved with age.
No wonder he’d humiliated her with a spanking. Although, afterward… No, she wouldn’t think about the things she’d begged him do to her. Rather, she’d stand her ground. “I’ve met toads with more charm than you. You were a loathsome child, and you’ve grown into a hateful man.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Do I know you?”
His past abuse left wounds in her soul. Getting away from him mattered as much as fleeing her brother.
He glowered at her through the gloom. “Julianna Halstead! Is that you? When I enlisted, you were a rag-tag slip of a girl. What the deuce are you doing out here alone after dark? It’s stupid and dangerous, unless you’re up to no good. Apparently, you’re as big a minx as your sister.”
His words crucified her inside. A decade ago, her older sister Susanna had suffered because of him. Memories of every cruel childhood prank Stonehurst had inflicted on her rushed back. Almost forgotten, she’d been left her to raise herself. That left her prey to the young boys who tormented her.
Then Susanna had embroiled the eleven-year-old Julianna in her schemes. At almost double her age, her older sister had returned unwed from yet another London season. She’d pulled Julianna aside and given her a small trinket box. “I’ll do whatever it takes to wed a title. As his sixteenth birthday gift, I mean to bed Stonehurst. He’ll have to marry me then. Of course, you’ll have to stand guard while I do.”
Julianna had lapped up the attention. Never once had she realized how wrong her sister’s plan had been. Susanna’s smoldering glances and flirtatious ways wrapped the naïve Stonehurst in a spider web of desire.
Julianna had been the world’s worst lookout. When Stonehurst’s grandparents strolled in through the small garden door, they caught Susanna and Stonehurst mid-sex. The Halstead family had been sent home in disgrace, but the consequences hadn’t stopped there.
Even as a boy, Stonehurst had been army mad. His father refused to let his only child enlist. After the incident, his grandparents whisked him away to London and bought him a commission in the queen’s Light Dragoons. He’d spent his adult life fighting the French.
Once Susanna’s pregnancy became apparent, her family had turned on Julianna.
“It’s your fault that Stonehurst seduced her,” Mother had sobbed as she shoved her from the room.
Her father had shaken his head and looked solemn. “You let her down and disappointed us.”
“You’re as selfish as you are stupid,” her brother had smirked as he gave her a sly pinch.
Too naive to know better, she’d accepted their strictures as the truth.
“Miss Halstead,” a deep voice broke her revelry, “are you all right?”
Fear knotted in her belly. Pushing it to one side, she gave him a stare designed to curdle milk. “I’m a little shaken, what with you returning from the grave to manhandle me. Almost dying beneath your horse’s hooves didn’t help, either.”
His cheeks darkened at her response. He’d gotten off lightly after her sister’s scheme went awry. Nine months later, Susanna had paid with her life
Despite Stonehurst’s reappearance, Julianna had to reach Falmouth harbor before low tide. Worn down and weary, her head felt as though an iron band tightened around it. Her ribs throbbed and her ankle ached, but she set off toward the sea. “I’d say it’s been nice to reconnect with you, but I’m not a liar.”
Lightning fast, he caught hold of her wrist. “I can’t leave you miles from anywhere, alone in the dark.”
When he gave a shrill whistle, his giant black stallion ambled to his side. It nuzzled his pocket searching for a treat. He produced a piece of carrot and patted the horse’s forehead before he turned back to her. “I’ll take you home and see you safe.”
If Kit discovered her escape attempt, he’d punish her again. She didn’t think her sore ribs could take any more. Always, he targeted the places her clothes covered. That way there was no visible evidence of his attack. The thought of his fists hammering her torso again made tears shimmer in her eyes.
Her ribs ached every time she moved, and her body was a mass of bruises. If Stonehurst took her back to Halstead Manor, her brother would fly into an uncontrollable rage. She feared for her life if he realized she’d tried to escape him tonight.
Like a supercilious kitten, she picked up her portmanteau and started down the road. “I have business in Plymouth, and if I don’t catch the early tide, I’ll be too late.”
His brows furrowed. “Then your business is with ruffians and smugglers. No decent men would expect you at this hour. I’ll take you back with your family if I have to tie you over my saddlebow to do it.”
He spoke with a quiet intensity that dared her to defy him. Defeated and scared, she stood beside his mammoth stallion. Shoulders slumped, she lowered her chin to hide the fear in her gaze.
Once Stonehurst swung himself atop his huge horse, he hauled her before him. She winced when her bottom touched the leather saddle. Circled in his arms, she sat upright, spine as straight as a crowbar. Her heart pounded and an angry drum beat inside her skull. In a perfect world, she’d snuggle into his chest and beg him to protect her. Instead, she stayed silent and still.
When Halstead Manor came in sight, her eyes misted with tears. “Please, release me here, and let me slip indoors unnoticed.”
His voice sounded cruel and harsh. “I will hand you over to your brother and ensure he takes better care of you in the future.”
A single tear slipped through her defenses. She blinked and wiped it away. If he said another word, she’d shatter. Anger that he’d spanked and insulted her welled up inside her. She couldn’t decide which hurt more—her bruised ribs or her sore bottom.
Misery blocked her throat and dried her mouth. She’d probably deserved that spanking since her failure ten years ago cost Susanna her life. She’d blamed herself when she heard the French had killed Stonehurst. That her childhood scheme hadn’t sent him to his death was the only bright spot in her miserable evening.
As they rode, her brief spark of anger faded into despair. She never made a sound, but tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Damn it,” Stonehurst muttered under his breath, “don’t cry.”
Despite the balmy summer night, she couldn’t stop shivering. He tightened his arms, pulling her toward him. When he buried his face in her hair, she thought he inhaled in her favorite floral perfume. She hoped it pleased him. His citrus and herbal cologne certainly delighted her.
When he reached the rose garden, the musky scent of the flowers lingered, heady and intoxicating. Despite his wooden leg, he slid easily from the saddle and helped her dismount. His hands rested a few seconds too long on her waist. She relaxed and leaned toward him, but his severe expression condemned her. While her past actions deserved his scorn, it still crushed her.
As if he couldn’t stop himself, he tugged her against him. His mouth slammed against hers, claiming, dominating, and possessing. A soft moan flowed from her. When she nestled into his embrace, her heart told her she’d come home.
He tangled his hands in the loose strands of her hair and anchored her lips to his. As his tongue traced the seam between them, she opened for him. He tasted of fresh lemons and spearmint. His kiss was all-consuming and addictive, a sinful delight that flooded her soul with joy.
The longer he held her, the more she relaxed. Everything about him made her feel sheltered and safe. Deep down she knew it was an illusion. He’d already sided with her brother, and her ribs would suffer for it.
Confused by the feelings he roused in her breast, her grip on reality faded, and she responded with unexpected eagerness. Wrong or not, she’d savor this moment of pleasure. Something hot and sensual sizzled between them. Unable to resist, she slid her arms around his neck, and ran her foot up and down his right calf.
When he crushed her against his chest, the added intimacy made her heart pound and her knees weak. Only, given their past, they could never have a future.
Her resolve to keep her distance shattered into diamond-bright stars. She craved his lips dominating hers and his hands exploring her body. They were alone, lost in the darkness and sensual heat. Beneath his black coat and trousers, he was solid muscle and sin.
His touch sparked a wildness inside her. New longings tingled through her blood, melting her bones. The liquid that pooled between her legs shamed her.
Finally, they broke off to breathe. After the constant childhood taunts and cruel tricks, she should hate him. Instead, he made her yearn for things she’d never have—a loving husband and family among them. She knew better than to lower her defenses to anyone.
His gaze condemned her. “And your response, Miss Halstead, proves exactly what a wayward baggage you are.”
His words were a bucket of cold water that washed away her dreams. In an ideal world, she’d throw herself back into his arms and let him hold her forever. Almost, she told him everything, but he’d never been her friend. How could she trust him after the terrible way he’d treated her younger self?
The touch of his lips had banished her aches and pains, made her lightheaded and clouded her thoughts, too. Gradually her fears and doubts returned. Nervous chills ran down her spine, and she tried to shove him away. Strong and solid, he didn’t move an inch.
With a puzzled shake of his head, he released her. She stumbled as he stepped back. The lack of bodily contact made her feel more alone than ever.
That kiss—the highlight of her life—had turned her bones to jelly and left her trembling for more. Heat had flooded her body. Her dormant libido exploded with new desires, but his contempt splintered her heart into icy spears.
Wicked longings warmed her blood, but she’d been a fool to surrender to his kisses. She’d responded like a wanton when she’d asked him to make her orgasm. While she didn’t regret it, his scorn forced the air from her lungs. Her legs felt feathery and weak. Ashamed of the way her body reacted—to him—she craved a future she couldn’t have.
His voice came out cold enough to freeze the family’s well-stocked trout lake. “Go before I change my mind, but I will watch until you are indoors. And, if I catch you up to mischief again, I’ll bare your arse and spank you until you can’t sit for a week. Someone needs to stop your after-dark meanderings. If your brother doesn’t take you in hand, I will.”
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