Duke of Chance: Lords of Scandal Page 11

  Chance nodded. “I understand. Many of us misstep with our first attempt at love. You ought to thank your brother. I wish someone had kept me from marrying the first person I thought I loved.”

  Daisy stilled against him. “Chance?” She could hardly breathe with those words. Was he trying to say that his feelings for Marissa had been like hers for Edge?

  A knock sounded on the door. “Chance!” Hart ground out.

  “What?”

  “It’s the thief. We need you now.”

  In an instant, she was off Chance’s lap. “Meet me in the garden in two hours,” he whispered, and then he was gone, the door flying open and then slamming shut. He barked out a command, and before she’d even settled herself, the carriage jumped into action, starting through the quiet London streets.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chance’s lungs burned with the effort of running.

  He was pleased to know that he beat Lockton in a foot race, but then he realized as he neared the man they chased, he was going to have to take the thief down on his own.

  Hart and Clubs had fallen behind as well.

  The thief turned to look at Chance as he ran, his coat flaps trailing behind him.

  Chance surged forward, grabbing on to the loose fabric and giving the man a good hard yank backward.

  He partially spun with a cry, and Chance took advantage of the fact he’d thrown him off balance.

  Hooking his waist, Chance sent him crashing to the ground, a satisfying whoosh of air leaving the thief’s lungs as he hit the cobblestones.

  Chance didn’t hesitate.

  Despite the fact that his own shoulder crunched into the cobblestone, he was up on his knees in a flash, rolling the fellow onto his stomach and twisting his arms behind him.

  “Ahh,” the other man cried.

  “Where is my money?” Chance grit out, thrusting a knee into the man’s back.

  “I…” he stuttered, “I don’t have it.”

  “That wasn’t precisely my question,” Chance replied as Hart reached him, pulling out a knife from his belt even as his heavy breathing filled the night. “Where is the money?”

  “I’m just the thief,” the fellow bit out. “I only get a small part for doing the deed.”

  Hart let out a shaky laugh as Clubs joined them, his own breath heaving.

  “A conspiracy?” Chance asked, his lip curling.

  “Please,” the culprit begged.

  “What’s his name? Who takes most of the cut?” Hart asked, pressing the knife to the man’s neck.

  “I don’t know it. I swear,” the other man said attempting to shrink away.

  Lockton finally reached them, resting his hands on his knees as he gasped in several breaths.

  “Clubs,” Lockton said between gasps of air. “Get the Bow Street Runners.”

  “The runners?” their thief cried. “There’s no need for that. I’ll return the money, and I’ll show you who hired me. Please. I didn’t mean no harm. My wife’s pregnant again, and with all the other little ones…”

  Chance clenched his teeth. Was the man actually attempting to play on their sympathy? Then he nearly smacked himself as it worked, him picturing a passel of little children crying for food. Then an image of Daisy with a babe in her arms, slipped into his mind, making all sorts of protective feelings burst open inside him. Most definitely not what he needed at this moment.

  Chance shoved his thoughts aside, grabbing the thief’s hair, hauling the guy back up. “Shut it.”

  The babble stopped as he glanced around the group.

  Lockton gave a quick nod even hunched over as he was.

  “It’s your lucky day,” Chance spit out near the man’s ear. “Start talking about who hired you—and be specific.”

  The man gave a trembling nod. “Works with you.”

  Chance’s blood ran cold with those words. It was someone they knew and trusted. Someone with access to everything.

  “I don’t know his name but he’s tall. Dark-haired. Quiet.”

  “Fuck,” Hart growled.

  Chance grimaced. That described nearly every one of them with a few exceptions. “I assume you’re not referring to anyone currently standing here?”

  The man shook his head. “No. He’s real refined looking.”

  Chance nearly let out a bark of laughter. “You’re stealing from and insulting us?”

  The man shook his head. “No, no sir. I’m just…trying to be helpful like.”

  Chance pushed back, coming to standing as Clubs and Hart each grabbed the man by one arm.

  “You’re working for us now,” Lockton growled out. Then he quickly detailed a plan. They’d tell everyone else the man had been sent off with the runners. Meanwhile, the thief they’d caught would be hidden in the shadows. If he ratted out the man who’d hired him, they’d release him.

  “Thank—thank you,” the man cried.

  “And after this, if I ever see you in my club again.” Chance spit on the sidewalk next to his feet. “You won’t live through our second meeting.”

  Lockton grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck as he started dragging him back toward the club. “Nicely done,” he said to Chance.

  Chance gave him a return nod as Hart stepped up next to him. “Finally,” Hart said falling in step with Chance. “One problem on the way to being solved.”

  Chance gave another curt nod. He’d left his far more pressing dilemma alone in a carriage. “Do you think you can handle the rest of this situation?”

  Hart gave him a sideways glance. “Of course.” He stopped. “Are you attempting to solve another issue that’s been plaguing us?”

  “Something like that.” Then Chance stopped, turning toward his friend. “You really think I’m not good enough for your sister?” Not that he hadn’t had the same thought. What if he couldn’t even provide her with children of her own?

  Hart shrugged. “We’re all heathens. The lot of us. And Daisy, she’s all that’s good in the world. I suppose that’s why I got so angry. I wanted her to stay that way.”

  Chance’s chest tightened. Daisy was good and sweet and so damn perfect, she made him ache.

  And Hart was right. That was the worst part. Chance wasn’t nearly enough man to really do her justice. But he couldn’t let her go either.

  Stepping away from Hart, he raised his hand to hail a hack.

  Daisy paced outside, the garden’s shroud of darkness making it difficult to see. She knew she should be still and listen. The rustling of her skirts was muffling most of the sounds around her.

  But despite that, she heard the distinct squeaking of a carriage somewhere down the street.

  She did stop then as footsteps echoed on the cobblestones, making their way toward the house.

  Should she crouch down?

  Hide?

  Was it Chance?

  She pressed her hands together as a figure moved down the alley toward her. “Daisy?”

  “Chance,” she replied, stepping toward the gate and swinging it open. She stepped into his arms without thought.

  She’d spent the last few hours endlessly analyzing his words, her feelings, thoughts. But now that he was here, she didn’t want to think of his love for his first wife or even of the future.

  She just wanted to be held in his arms.

  Feel him against her as he kissed her senseless.

  “Sweetheart, we have so much—” She didn’t let him finish as her lips found his.

  The kiss held all her emotions, her anxiousness, her need. He returned it, crushing her to his front as their lips moved together.

  Daisy molded herself to him, realizing a few truths.

  She’d never be able to walk away, she wanted him too much.

  And that gave him the power to absolutely crush her.

  She sighed into his mouth, threading her fingers into his hair.

  “Daisy,” he whispered against her lips. “What is it?”

  She couldn’t even hide her deepe
st desires as she leaned back to look up into golden gaze. “Chance. I…” She slid her hand around, running her fingers over the stubble of his cheek. “I love you.”

  He gave her a one-sided grin, as he leaned down, capturing her mouth again. The kiss went on and on until they were both breathless.

  Only then did he pull back wrapping an arm under her behind and lifting her up in her arms. “What are you doing?” she asked, tightening her arms about his neck.

  He kissed her again. “Taking you inside where it’s warm.”

  Was it cool out here? She’d hardly noticed.

  They made their way in through the kitchen and then started up the stairs, not seeing a soul.

  “Which floor?”

  “Third,” she answered as he started up another flight of steps. She didn’t ask why he was taking her to her room. She didn’t care.

  Somewhere, despite her reservations, she’d made her choice. Whatever her decision meant for her future, she’d marry Chance.

  They reached the landing, and she whispered close to his ear, “Second door on the left.”

  He opened the door, softly closing it behind him as his lips found hers again.

  The kiss went on and on, their lips locked together. It wasn’t until she pulled back to catch her breath that she realized most of her clothing was half off.

  “Daisy,” Chance ground out. “I want to see you. Touch you.”

  “Yes,” was all she could manage to say as she began to tug at their garments. First hers and then his.

  She couldn’t hold back anything from him as he released the strings of her corset, then the boots on her feet.

  When she was in nothing but a chemise, he began making quick work of his own clothing, stripping down to just his breeches.

  And when he came on top of her again, his bare arms wrapping about her, she nearly cried in relief to feel his skin against hers.

  Her legs naturally parted to make room for him as they settled back onto the bed.

  “Chance,” she moaned into his mouth. His staff pressed against her softness filling her with desire and just a bit of worry as she held him closer.

  “Don’t worry, my sweetheart. I’ll take care of you always.”

  Her breath held as she stared into his eyes. She believed him.

  In matters of her safety, she’d never want for a thing.

  She pushed away any other doubts, about him or herself, losing herself in their kiss as he slid his hand under her chemise and skimmed the fabric up her body. When it pooled under her arms, his lips trailed a path down her body, stopping at each of her breasts to lavish them one by one with affection before his mouth slid lower.

  Daisy’s body hummed with need by the time he’d settled between her legs and from the first touch of his tongue to her slick folds she thought she might break apart.

  He seemed to sense her yearning, his touch light and slow as his hands skimmed over her stomach, her legs.

  Just when she was close to her finish, he stopped, rearing up and pulling at the falls of his breeches, he stripped down to nothing, the ripples of his muscles catching the firelight.

  He stole her breath, he was so stunning, and she lifted up on her elbows just to drink him in inch by perfect inch.

  “Did you mean it before, Daisy? Do you really love me?” he asked as he pulled her to sitting, sending her chemise sailing over her head.

  “I did,” she answered, glancing away. “It scares me, Chance.”

  His hands came to either side of her face as he kissed her nose and then her cheeks slowly pushing her back onto the bed. His touch was achingly tender as he looked into her eyes. “You never need to be afraid of me.”

  She wasn’t afraid of him. But her feelings. Of him not reciprocating hers. That frightened her. Still with a shaky breath, she wrapped her arms about him. Now was not the time for fear.

  Arabella had told her to make him beg and that was Arabella’s way. But as Daisy looked up at him, she understood her way. Now was the moment where she showed him how much she cared and how far she was willing to go to give him love. Daisy would be brave, and strong, and caring.

  She shook those thoughts away as his bare chest settled against hers. She wrapped her arms about his neck, reveling in the feel of him. Like this, she forgot her fear, her worries.

  There was only them and what Chance could give her. A life, children, physical comfort.

  His manhood pressed into her, sliding into her channel.

  A slight burning sensation made her gasp, but she held him tighter, loving the closeness the embrace brought.

  “Daisy?” he asked. His hands held either side of her head in an achingly tender hold as he searched her face, concern filling his gaze.

  “Yes,” she answered, ready to give him everything. It was time.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chance held Daisy in his arms, sliding into her body, as slowly as he was able.

  He didn’t want to hurt her. Looking down at her, he realized she was the most cherished person he’d ever embraced.

  Deep down, he knew he should have waited to take her maidenhead but, in this moment, he wanted to share the deep emotions running through him.

  He didn’t name that feeling, but something in him had shifted at her admission of love. First, he believed her.

  Which, in and of itself, was miraculous. He’d heard her when she’d set Edgemere aside and he’d felt her responses to him from his touch and to his voice.

  Daisy was his.

  He pushed deeper, her maidenhead breaking and her cry ripping through him as he kissed her brow, cradling her against him. “Sorry, love.” He held her tight, stroking his thumb along the hollow behind her ear.

  “It’s all right.” She inhaled a deep gulp of air. “It’s already better. I just need a moment.”

  He ached with adoration as he kissed her again. So brave.

  He kissed her deeply, their mouths moving together as he held still inside her. “Daisy.”

  “Yes?” she asked between kisses.

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “Tonight, you said you wanted to be part of our world. Hart’s, Arabella’s, and mine.”

  She looked away. “I don’t want to talk about that now.”

  “Why not?”

  She turned back to him. “Because that’s the time I feel far away from you. Like we aren’t a part of the same world. And I don’t want to feel any distance now.”

  His chest squeezed as her arms tightened about his neck. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m not pushing you away in this moment. I’m trying to tell you that I’m going to quit the club.”

  She blinked up at him. “What?”

  “I don’t want you to come into my world. I want to join you in yours.” Seeing her at the club again tonight had driven home a vague sense that he was on the wrong path. Had been for some time. Daisy didn’t belong there, and he belonged wherever she was.

  She gasped as he slowly slid out of her body. “Chance. What do you mean?”

  Moving as gently as he could to slide inside her again, he peppered her face with kisses. Was it the admission of love she deserved? No. But his next words were the best he could give her now. “Hart is right. Our world is dark and gritty. But you are my light.”

  Her legs tightened around his as he seated himself inside her again. And when her lips found his, her kiss told him all he needed to know. She approved of his decision. Holding her closer still, he pushed in and out of her, her hips rocking to meet his.

  Soon her heart thrummed in time with his, their bodies moving together. All the while, he looked into her eyes, wanting to remember every moment.

  She tensed under him, her cries of pleasure filling his ears as her hands gripped at his shoulders and then Daisy came undone.

  Her whimpers of ecstasy filled his ears, making his own finish rush through him. He held her tight to his chest as the spasms receded, never wanting this moment to end.

  He was unaware of how much time passed or that
he’d fallen asleep until he woke to the feel of her fingers stroking back his hair from his forehead. “Daisy?”

  She gave him a sleepy smile. “I think it’s almost dawn.”

  He blinked open his eyes, lifting his head and staring out into the dark. “How do you know?”

  “I heard the clock chime five.”

  He rolled onto his side, pressing their bodies together as he kissed her several more times. “I have to go soon.”

  “I know,” she whispered, a little tremor filling her voice.

  He stroked a hand down her cheek. “You know that this is just the beginning?”

  She gave a tentative nod. “I know. I just prefer being in your arms.”

  He smiled down at her, holding her chin. “I prefer that too.” Then he whispered close to her ear. “But before you know it, you’ll be in my bed every night.”

  She nodded as she slid her hands down his arms. “Are you really going to leave the club? Won’t Hart be disappointed?”

  He shrugged. Leaving the club was his way of moving forward with her. “He’ll get over it.”

  He should tell her that he loved her too. And he very well might. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to share the words. They’d hurt his marriage so much, a lie that had destroyed everything he’d cherished, he couldn’t force the sentiment past his lips.

  But she didn’t seem to notice, her sweet smile filling him with a temporary warmth as he slid a hand down her side.

  He didn’t want to leave this bed. Didn’t wish to leave her, but he couldn’t be found here. He’d hate to have Hart attempt to kill him for defiling his sister.

  Which is why he pushed himself up from the bed and into the cool air. “I’m going to get a special license,” he said as he ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “All will be forgiven when you’re a duchess, and I don’t want to wait much longer.”

  She gave a tentative nod, catching his wrist in her hand. “Chance, will you come later? During my calling hours.”

  “Of course,” he said, then leaned down and kissed her again before grabbing his breeches and yanking them on.