Free Lawless by John Jakes Page B

hand. A shade too roughly, perhaps, but he was desperate.
    “Matthew Kent, I bloody well won’t have you trying to get round me this wa—”
    He put his mouth on hers. The kiss was long and intense. Her skin smelled sweetly of the lilac water she wore. He ran his fingers up into her blond hair, ruining the carefully created curls.
    Her mouth felt cool, unresponsive. He didn’t break the embrace. She breathed in—an angry little sound—then pulled back abruptly. Tears shone as she exclaimed, “Oh, you’re not fair. Not fair at all.”
    He kissed her again, ferociously. He worked his right hand behind her, stroking her back-while the pressure of his lips bore her head back. She uttered that angry little gasp again, then suddenly went limp against him. With a moan, she flung one arm around his neck. Her mouth opened, eager.
    Dolly Stubbs was far from being as starched and proper as all the daughters of Victoria were supposed to be. That was a bounty which had brought him great happiness. Once warmed, her passion was boundless—and this evening was no exception. Her corseted breasts crushed against his shirt as she moved in his arms. When she felt how huge and stiff he was, felt him prodding her through layers of clothing, she moaned again.
    He spread his legs, lifting her off the floor and kissing her eyelids. She moaned louder. Surrendering.
    He carried her to the other room, and the bed. The room was tiny and without windows. The only illumination came from the fading skylight glow. In moments, he had her outer clothes off, then her corset and undergarments. As he bent to hold and kiss one of her soft white breasts, he knew again that his strategy wasn’t mere expediency. He cared for her, deeply.
    “Oh, oh,” Dolly was exclaiming, arching her bare back. “Oh, you’re so damned unfair, Matt Kent. You know how I melt when you do that—”
    “I do it because I love you,” he whispered, mouth against the warmth of her ear. Her unbound hair tickled his nose.
    “You’re—a terrible man,” she laughed as he spread himself over her, the softness and the roughness of her at once familiar and wondrously new. “A terrible man to make me—so addled—I can’t think about what we must—must—oh. Oh!”
    She brought her body up and forward, a motion urging him to hurry. Eyes closed and clinging to him, she cried, “I love you. I love you —”
    The end was splendid, as always. And when they rested afterward, the light in the bedroom all but gone, he thought he’d successfully diverted her from discussing domestic matters tonight. He let himself doze off.
    Yawning, he woke in response to a gentle tug of his naked shoulder. He heard her whisper, “That was absolutely lovely, Matt. And it told me all over again how much I care for you. But we must still talk.”
    He’d failed! Feeling trapped again, he sat up in bed. Then came the thunderblow. Her voice affectionate and her hand caressing him again, she added, “It won’t take long. I’d just like us to agree to get married.”
iii
    He was suddenly ashamed of his simpleminded strategy, and of his arrogant assumption that she could be so easily diverted. Sometimes the strength and single-mindedness of the female sex terrified him.
    He swung his legs off the side of the bed. “I gathered that was it. You want to exchange all this for an arrangement like Sime and Leah’s.”
    “‘All this?’” she repeated, then gave a short, brusque laugh. “Two rooms in Montmartre and some doubtful prospects for a career as a painter? It’s not all that magnificent, Mr. Kent! So please don’t sneer at me.”
    He fought to keep the anger out of his voice. “Except for my work, it’s exactly what the Strelniks have.”
    “Oh, no, my dear. For one thing, they have the legal right to give Anton their family name.”
    He scrambled to his feet. “Dolly, will you kindly tell me what the hell happened to you in Liverpool? Why has a marriage certificate become so damned