Dancing At Midnight

Chapter 15

"Where on earth did you come up with a ww crazy idea like this, anyway?"

"No matter." Belle glanced over at her reluctant partner in crime. Dunford was not at all pleased to be standing next to her in front of John's brother's house at three in the morning, and he certainly had no qualms about showing his ire.

He scowled as he gave her a leg up into the tree. "I'm not leaving until I see you depart from this house. Preferably through the front door."

Belle didn't look down at him as she grabbed the first branch. "I wish you would. There's no telling how long I might be inside."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Dunford, even if he detested me, John would insist upon seeing me home. That's just the sort of man he is. You needn't worry about my welfare when I'm with him."

"Perhaps, but what about your reputation?"

"Well, that's my problem, isn't it?" Belle hoisted herself up onto the next branch. "This is much easier than it looks. Have you ever climbed a tree, Dunford?"

"Of course I have," he replied in an irritated voice. She was now even with the second-story windows. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for letting her talk him into this insane scheme. But then again, if he didn't help her, she'd probably have come alone, which was even more insane. He'd never seen Belle like this before. For her sake, he hoped this Blackwood fellow felt the same way about her.

"I'm almost there, Dunford," she called out softly, testing the sturdiness of the branch which would have to bear her weight as she moved horizontally toward the window. "Will you promise me that you'll leave once I'm inside?"

"I'll promise no such thing."

"Please," she pleaded. "You'll freeze out here."

"I'll leave only if Blackwood comes to the window and gives me his word as a gentleman that he'll see you safely home." Dunford sighed to himself. He'd not be able to protect Belle's virtue-if there was anything left to protect, which he sincerely hoped there was-but at least he could make sure she got home safely.

"All right," she agreed, and started inching her way along the thick branch toward the window. After about three seconds on her hands and knees, a better idea offered itself to her, and she straddled the branch, thankful for the breeches she had swiped out of her brother's closet. Using her arms for support, she slowly pushed her way along. When she reached the window, the branch sagged perilously, and Belle quickly climbed onto the wide ledge. Below her she could hear Dunford's footsteps as he scurried toward the building, obviously certain that he was going to have to catch her as she plunged toward the ground.

"I'm fine," she called out softly. She started to push the window up.

John was awakened by the sound of the window scraping against its frame. Years of soldiering had left him a very light sleeper, and the recent attack against his life had honed his senses even further. With one fluid motion he grabbed his pistol from his nightstand, rolled onto the floor, and crouched next to the bed, his leg screaming against the sudden movement. When he realized that the intruder was having a bit of trouble getting the window open, he took advantage of the delay and grabbed his dressing gown. His back to the wall, he made his way around the perimeter of the room until he was standing right next to the window. He would not be surprised this time.

With considerable exertion Belle managed to hoist the window up. Once there was enough space for her to squeeze through, she waved down at Dunford and wormed her way in.

The minute her feet touched the floor, a steely arm grabbed her from behind, and she felt the cold butt of a pistol pressed up against her neck. Fear froze her body and her mind, and she went stiff as a board.

"All right," she heard a furious voice behind her hiss. "Start talking. I want to know who you are and what you want with me."

"John?" Belle croaked.

She was instantly spun around. "Belle?"

She nodded.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

She swallowed nervously. "Could you put the gun down?"

John realized that he was still holding his weapon and dropped it on a nearby table. "For the love of God, Belle, I could've killed you."

She managed a tremulous smile. "I'm glad you didn't."

He raked a hand through his thick hair and then finally took a good look at her. She was dressed in black from head to toe. Her bright hair, which would have undoubtedly glowed in the moonlight, was stuffed under a cap, and the rest of her appeared to be stuffed into a pair of men's breeches. Or rather, a pair of boy's breeches. Her shapely form was shown off quite nicely by her unconventional attire, and he doubted that there were men's breeches small enough to compliment her backside so delightfully.

"What are you wearing?" He sighed.

"Do you like it?" Belle smiled at him, determined to brazen this out. She pulled the cap from her head, allowing the mass of her hair to tumble down her back. "I got the idea from Emma. From something she did once. She, umm, dressed as a boy, and-"

"Spare me the story. I'm sure Ashbourne was as furious as I am now."

"I think he was. I wasn't there. But the next day-"

"Enough!" He held up a hand. "How in hell did you get up here?"

"I climbed the tree."

"Where'd you get a damn fool idea like that?"

"Do you have to ask?"

John shot her a look which told her that he was not amused at having his own behavior thrown back at him. "You could have broken your neck, woman."

"You didn't leave me much choice." She reached forward to place her hand on his arm.

John jerked back. "Don't touch me. I can't think when you touch me."

That was encouraging, Belle thought, and reached forward again.

"I said stop it! Can't you see I'm furious with you?"

"For what? For taking a risk in coming up here to see you? This wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't been such an addlebrained idiot and refused to see me."

"I had a very good reason for refusing to see you," John snapped.

"Oh, really? And what was that?"

"None of your damned business."

"I can see you're just as childish as ever," Belle sneered. "Ouch!" She jumped back as a rock hit her in her arm.

"What was that?" John hissed, grabbing his gun again and pulling her back from the window.

"When did you grow so paranoid? It's only Dunford, growing irritated at me, no doubt, for waiting so long to tell him that I made it in safely." Belle wriggled from his grasp and moved to the open window. Dunford was looking up at her. She couldn't see his face clearly, but she knew that concern was etched into his expression.

"I'm fine, Dunford," she called down.

"Is he going to see you home?"

"Yes, fine. Don't worry."

"I want to hear it from him."

"Stubborn man," Belle muttered. "Umm, John? Dunford won't leave until you give him your word that you'll see me home safely."

John scowled and crossed over to the window. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'd have liked to have seen you stop her," Dunford growled back. "Are you going to escort her home or do I have to remain here and-"

"You know damned well I will, and the two of us are having a talk tomorrow. You're either stupid or drunk or both to let her-"

"Let her? Let her? Oh, Blackwood, you're going to have a fine time of it as her husband. I didn't lether do anything. Napoleon himself couldn't have stopped her. I wish you the best of luck. You're going to need it." Dunford spun on his heel and walked back to the carriage he'd left a block away.

John turned back to Belle. "You'd better have a very good reason for pulling a stunt like this."

Belle gaped at him. "I told you, I needed to see you. What better reason is there? And could you possibly shut the window? It's cold in here."

John grumbled, but he shut the window. "All right. Start talking."

"You want me to start talking? Why don't you start talking? I've been wondering why a man would creep into my bedroom one day and make love to me and then refuse to see me the next."

"It's for your own good, Belle," he said through clenched teeth.

"Now where have I heard that before?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Don't throw that back at me now, Belle. It's an entirely different situation."

"So I might understand-if you told me what was going on. And while you've been off and immersed in your affairs, I've been having quite a little adventure."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that someone tried to kidnap me two days ago." Belle had turned away, so she didn't see the blood drain from John's face. Taking a deep breath, she risked everything and said, "And if you really cared about me, I would think you'd want to see about protecting me. I'd rather not go about this alone, you know."

John grabbed her harshly by the shoulders and turned her around. The expression on his face told her that he still cared for her, and she would have been overjoyed if he hadn't looked so completely anguished. "Tell me what happened," he insisted, his face pinched with concern. "Tell me everything."

She quickly told him about the incident in the alley.

"Goddamn!" he exploded, pounding his fist into the wall.

Belle gasped as she saw a crack snake through the plaster.

"And you're sure they said a highborn gentleman wanted you? You in particular?"

She nodded and winced as he shook her. "And also that his arm was in a sling."

John let out a foul expletive. He'd shot his attacker just a few nights ago in the shoulder. With a ragged sigh he limped over to a table with a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He picked up both and then discarded the glass, taking a healthy swig of the liquor directly from the bottle. He swore again and then held the bottle toward Belle. "Want some?"

She shook her head, unnerved by his stark expression. "No, thank you."

"You may change your mind," he said, laughing harshly.

"John, what is wrong?" Belle rushed to his side. "What is going on?"

He looked her straight in the eye, straight into those perfect blue eyes that haunted him every night. There was no point in keeping the truth from her any longer. Not after his enemy had already decided that she was a valuable commodity. He was going to have to keep her close to him now if he wanted to keep her safe. Very close. At all times.

"John?" Belle implored. "Please tell me."

"Someone is trying to kill me."

The words fell on her like an avalanche. "What?" she gasped. She swayed and would have fallen to the floor if he hadn't reached out and caught her. "Who?"

"I don't know. That's the damned part about it. How in hell am I supposed to watch my back if I have no idea what I'm watching for?"

"But do you have any enemies?"

"None that I know of."

"Merciful heavens," Belle breathed, and John had to crack a smile at her extremely ladylike attempt at cursing.

"Whoever wants me dead has realized that you are very, very important to me and isn't above using you."

"Am I?" Belle asked softly.

"Are you what?"

"Very, very important to you?"

John let out a harsh breath. "For God's sake, Belle. You know that you are. The only reason I haven't been following you like a lapdog for the past few days is that I had hoped that my assailant hadn't yet made the connection between us."

Amidst her terror over John's safety, Belle felt a warm glow of happiness at his words. She hadn't misjudged him. "What are we going to do now?"

John sighed raggedly. "I don't know, Belle. Keeping you safe is my first priority."

"And yourself, too, I should hope. I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you."

"I'm not going to spend my life running, Belle. Or rather, limping, as the case may be," he added wryly.

"No, I can see that you wouldn't like that."

"Damn it!" His fingers tightened around the bottle of whiskey, and he very likely would have thrown it against the wall if Belle hadn't been there to temper his fury. "If I only knew who was after me. I feel so goddamned helpless. And useless."

Belle rushed to comfort him. "Please, darling," she implored. "Don't be so harsh with yourself. No man could do more than you're doing. But I think the time has come for us to seek out help."

"Oh?" he asked derisively.

Belle ignored his tone. "I think we should go to Alex. And Dunford, too, perhaps. They're both quite resourceful. I think they could help."

"I'm not going to involve Ashbourne. He's got a wife now to worry about and a child on the way. And as for your friend Dunford, I don't precisely respect his judgment after tonight."

"Oh, please don't blame Dunford for that. I didn't leave him much choice. It was either come and watch over me or know that I was going to do it on my own."

"You're a fine piece of work, Belle Blydon."

Belle smiled at what she decided to interpret as a compliment. "And as for Alex," she continued. "I know that you saved his life once."

John looked up sharply.

"He told me all about it," Belle said, stretching the truth just a tad. "So don't think you can deny it. And I know Alex well enough to know that he'll have been wanting to repay his debt to you for a long time."

"I don't see it as a debt. I did what any man would have done."

"I disagree. I know many men who won't even go out in the rain for fear of ruining their cravats, much less risk their lives for another. For God's sake, John. You can't do this alone."

"There is no other way to do it."

"That's not true. You're not alone anymore. You have friends. And you have me. Won't you let us help you?"

John didn't answer right away, and Belle let out another panicked rush of words. "It's just pride stopping you. I know that, and I won't forgive you if you… if you die, and only because you were too bullheaded to ask for help from the people who care about you."

He moved away from her and walked over to the window, unable to turn his thoughts from the man who was stalking him. Was he out there, just through the thin curtain? Was he just waiting, biding his time? And would he hurt Belle?

God, don't let him hurt Belle.

A long minute passed, and then Belle finally spoke, her voice quavering. "I… I think you should know that I'm counting on you to protect me. I'll face whatever lies ahead, but I won't do it alone."

John turned back around, his face stark with emotion. He opened his mouth but did not speak.

Belle stepped forward and touched his cheek with her hand. "And if you'll let me," she said softly, "I want to protect you, too."

John placed his hand over hers. "Oh, Belle, what did I ever do to deserve you?"

She finally allowed herself a smile. "Nothing. You didn't have to do anything."

With a groan, John pulled her into his arms. "I'm never going to let you go again," he said fiercely, burying his hands in her thick hair.

"Please say you mean it this time."

John pulled away and took her face in his hands, his brown eyes firmly focused on her blue ones. "I promise you. We will face this together."

Belle wrapped her arms around his waist and let her cheek sink against his firm chest. "Can we possibly ignore this until morning? Or at least for the next few hours? Just pretend that everything is perfect?"

John leaned down and gently brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. "Oh, darling, everything is perfect."

Belle turned her face so that she could return his kisses with all of her unschooled eagerness. Her passion only served to inflame his, and before she knew it, he had lifted her into his arms and carried her the short distance to his bed.

He laid her down and smoothed her hair from her face with such reverence that tears came to Belle's eyes. "I'm going to make you mine tonight," he said, his voice fiercely tender.

Belle only uttered one word. "Please."

His lips trailed hot kisses down the side of her neck as his nimble fingers quickly divested her of her clothing. He touched her like a starving man, caressing, rubbing, squeezing. "I can't… go slow," he said harshly.

"I don't care," Belle moaned. She felt the now familiar tendrils of excitement creeping up her legs and down her arms all the way to the center of her very being. She wanted release, begged for it, pleaded for it. She'd never dreamed that desire could come upon her this quickly, but having tasted it once before, she couldn't fight the urge to quench its hot flame. Her hands clawed at his dressing gown, driven by her need to feel his skin against hers.

John seemed to be feeling the same urges, and he nearly tore his robe in his haste to feel her breasts pressed up against his chest. "God, how I want you," he growled, sliding one hand down her torso to nestle in her crisp thatch of hair. She was wet, and the knowledge nearly drove him out of his mind.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold out without plunging himself into her, but he wanted to be absolutely certain that she was ready for him, so he gently slid one finger inside of her. He could feel her muscles clenching around him, and he was stunned by the rawness of her desire.

"Please," Belle begged. "I want…" Her voice trailed off.

"What do you want?"

"I want you," she rasped. "Now."

"Oh, darling, I want you, too." With gentle urging, he parted her legs and positioned himself above her, ready to enter but not quite touching her. His breath was uneven, and it took everything in him to say, "Are you sure, love? Because once I touch you I'm not going to be able to stop."

Belle's answer was to place her hands firmly on his hips and pull him toward her. John finally allowed himself to do what he'd been dreaming about for weeks and slowly entered her. She was small, though, and he was terrified that he would hurt her, so he went very slowly, pushing forward and pulling back to allow her body to get used to his. "Does it hurt?" he whispered.

It was a teeny bit uncomfortable when he pushed forward, but Belle could feel her body relaxing so she shook her head, not wanting to worry him. Besides, she knew where all this was leading, and she wanted very badly to get there.

John groaned to himself when he reached the thin barrier of her maidenhead. It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to pound into her the way his raging body demanded. "This may hurt you a bit, love," he said. "I wish it could be otherwise, and I wish I could take the pain for you, but I promise you it will only be this once, and-"

"John?" Belle interrupted softly.

"What?"

"I love you."

It felt as if his throat were about to close. "No, Belle, you don't," he gasped. "You can't. You-"

"I do."

"No, please. Just don't say it. Don't say anything. Don't…" He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. She was his, but he might as well have stolen her. She was more than he deserved, and if he was greedy enough to want her in his life, he wasn't enough of a bastard to ask for her heart.

Belle saw the tortured look in his eyes. She didn't understand it, but she wanted so desperately to make it go away. Words couldn't heal him so she demonstrated her devotion by pulling his head down to hers.

He was undone by her soft and gentle movements, and he plunged forward, sheathing himself completely within her. She felt so good, unlike anything he'd ever experienced, but he forced himself to lie still for a minute as he felt her passage stretching to accommodate him.

Belle smiled tremulously. "You're so big."

"Just the same as any man. Although I don't intend that you should ever have basis for comparison." He began to move within her, softly thrusting and enjoying the sweet friction between their bodies.

Belle gasped as she felt him. "Oh my."

"Oh my, indeed."

"I think I like this." Without thought, Belle began to move her hips beneath him, rising to meet him as he plunged within her. Her legs snaked around him, and her new position allowed him to come even further within her, so far that Belle was sure that he was touching her heart.

His movements grew faster and harder, and Belle was swept along with him as they traveled on that raging sea toward release. She plunged her fingers into his skin, raking him with her nails as she tried to get even closer to him. "I want it now!" she gasped, feeling her body begin to spiral out of control.

"Oh, you shall have it, I promise." His hand slipped between their bodies and touched her most sensitive nub of flesh. She exploded the moment he touched her, crying out her passion as every muscle in her body tensed and then seemed to shatter.

The feeling of her clenching around his hard shaft was more than John could bear, and he thrust into her one last time, grunting harshly as he poured himself into her. Together they collapsed into a dazed, sweaty tangle of arms and legs, heat radiating from their bodies.

After John's breathing had returned to normal, he brushed a damp tendril from her face and asked, "Well?"

Belle smiled up at him. "You have to ask?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't going to ask him about his refusal to accept her declaration of love. He felt his body relax and even managed a teasing smile as he said, "Indulge me."

"It was wonderful, John. Like nothing I've ever known. And I have you to thank."

He tweaked her nose. "You played a pivotal role yourself."

"Mmmm," Belle replied noncommittally. "But you were holding back for me, making sure that I was… all right," she finished, unable to think of better words. When John made a move to protest, she placed her hand over his mouth and said, "Shh. I could see it in your face. You're such a gentle, caring man, but you try so hard not to let people see that side of you. Look at everything you did to make this perfect for me. Even pleasuring me before so I wouldn't be scared by my feelings tonight."

"It's because I-because I care about you, Belle. I want everything to be perfect for you."

"Oh, it is, John," she said with a contented sigh. "It is."

"I'm going to protect you," he vowed fiercely. "I'm going to keep you safe."

Belle snuggled into the crook of his arm. "I know, darling. And I'm going to keep you safe, too."

John smiled as an image of her wielding a broadsword floated through his mind.

"I'm not helpless, you know," Belle said.

"I know," he said indulgently.

His tone annoyed her, and she twisted around to face him. "I'm not," she protested. "And you'd better get used to it, because I'm not going to let you try to deal with this monster all by yourself."

John looked down at her and raised one eyebrow. "Surely you don't think I'm going to let you put yourself in danger?"

"Don't you see, John? If you put yourself in danger, you might as well be putting me in danger? It's the same thing." John didn't see, but he didn't want to deal with it while she was lying all warm and soft in his arms. "Didn't you say that you wanted to forget about our problems for a few hours?" he reminded her softly.

"Yes, I guess I did. But it's hard, isn't it?" John's hand strayed to the abrasion on his arm where a bullet had grazed him earlier in the week.

"Yes," he said darkly. "It is."