Say Yes to the Duke (34 page)

“Damned right I won’t run away with you,” he murmured. Slowly, he came up to her and
laid a kiss on her shoulder. Then he cupped her bottom, none too gently, and rubbed
his rough man’s hand over it. “Those lacy drawers … where are they?”

“I left them off,” she said, “for you.” She paused a beat. “Idiot. You could have
this every night. Every day.”

“You’re the fool, young lady,” he said into her ear, “if you even consider for one
second marrying that excuse for a human being upstairs.” He teased open her lips with
his tongue and explored her mouth with rakish abandon, the way he had the very first
day they’d met. And then he moved a hand to her breast, rolling his palm in a circle
over the taut tip.

More!
her body shouted.

Her back arched, bringing her bare belly into contact with his male hardness, frustratingly
concealed by his breeches. When he leaned down and suckled her nipple with his supple
mouth, a shot of pure pleasure raced to her feminine core like lightning. And when
he put a hand between her legs, inserted two fingers inside her, and rubbed her hidden
pearl with the pad of the same thumb that had wiped away one of her tears, she sucked
in a breath and moaned, her pelvis rolling over his fingers again and again.

“Luke,” she whispered, “you know you have me. You can have all of me. Why are you
torturing me so?”

But he wouldn’t answer. Instead, he picked her up, laid her on the blanket, and knelt
before her. The ground was hard beneath her back, but she felt no pain, only an exquisite
sort of agony. She’d go through anything for him.

Anything.

He tore his shirt over his head, and she basked in the sight of his muscles—they bulged
enticingly on his upper arms, made armor out of his chest, and rippled over his taut
belly. She reached up to touch him, but with barely the touch of his finger to her
breastbone he signaled that she must lie back down again. She did, the place between
her legs moist and aching for his touch. But he rolled to his feet and, with total
control and confidence, undid his breeches and stepped out of them.

“Luke!” she cried. “Please. Come here, and let me touch you.”

“Talk is cheap.” His chiseled mouth tilted on one side. “Show me that you want me
to.”

She was afraid. But she lifted her hand to her own breast and cupped it. “Here,” she
murmured. “I want your mouth here.”

The cool air pebbled her nipple, but Luke didn’t move.

“Is that all?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re very much a lady. We don’t
belong together, you and I. I’m not a gentleman, and never will be. Too many nights
I’ve slept outside, beneath trees, in back alleys. I’ve heard people rutting in dark
corners, and I’ve seen people knifed. Pretty pretending is for people like you, people
who can afford to pay off the rest of the world to conceal its ills from you. I don’t
want to be a part of that world. Where I am—as lonely as it is—is real. This is who
I am, my lady.” He slid his hand once up and down his erection. “A man of simple pleasures.
A man who wants to take you deep into the heart of carnal pleasure, so deep you’ll
lose that mask you wear when you’re afraid.”

She couldn’t look away. “But I told you I’d run away with you!”

“You want to run away with me so you can hide.”

“No.”

“But it’s why you came here. You’re not willing to stand up to the world you already
know and claim your rightful place in it. I won’t have any part of hiding who you
are. Ever.”

“You’re wrong,” she said. “I might have been afraid, but that was before I met you.
Let me show you who I am.” She spread her legs wide and reached down a hand to touch
that smooth cleft between her thighs. “I’m a woman who wants you. Who craves you inside
me.” She swirled her finger over the center of her pleasure, and the small of her
back lifted off the ground. “I’m not a simpering miss. I’m bold. I have a voice.”

“Let me hear it then,” he said. “Unfettered.”

She stared into his eyes and fondled her breast with one hand. With the other, she
ran her own finger into her slick core. “See?” she said, her breath coming in shorter
gasps.

He squatted next to her. “All the way,” he said. “On your own. Do you have the fierceness
to stand up today against the duke?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and thought only of Luke and his glorious body, the epitome
of male beauty.

“What about your family?” he asked her. “They want you well settled. A duke will do
nicely.”

“No,” she whispered. “I want
you.
”

A moan came from her throat, and her pelvis lifted into the air. She was on the sweet,
slow precipice of a great release when she felt his teeth graze her nipple and then
gently bite it. The crude, possessive action send her crashing over the edge into
wave after wave of bliss.

She whimpered when she fell back to the blanket, and Luke moved his mouth from her
breast to her lips, kissing her hard and hungrily. “You were made for this. Made for
me.”

She knew that was true and luxuriated in his possession of her. With him, she could
let go—she could stop being the lady—and still be safe and adored. “We’re not finished,”
she said. “I need you inside me.”

“No.” He ran a hand down her belly and back up again. “That can’t be.”

“I hate your stubbornness,” she said. “But I’ll have you. I’ll have you now, in my
mouth. And I’ll not take no for an answer.”

“You’re a stern taskmaster yourself.” He grinned and lifted her up beneath her arms—she
still felt rather like a limp rag doll—and scooted beneath her.

She was thrilled to be seated on his lap, his erection pressing against her bottom.

“I’ll allow it,” he said into her ear. “On one condition. This sensual act, while
highly pleasurable, is rather unpolished. I’m not sure a lady like you will go along
with it.”

“Your challenges don’t faze me,” she said. “See what you’re forsaking, Mr. Callahan?”

“I know very well, but enough of that sort of talk. Now follow along. I’m going to
put you on top so you have more control.”

“Me in control? I thought you said you weren’t a gentleman.”

He lay on his back and turned her around so that her thighs were spread over his face
and her mouth was above his erection, which stood at full attention.

“It’s not gentlemanly at all to put you on top,” he said, looking down at her. “It’s
very self-serving, I assure you.”

“Goodness.” She giggled. “You’re upside-down. This
is
rather unpolished. I can’t possibly look like a lady to you from that end.”

“You’re right. You look every inch the delicious heathen.” And to encourage her along
those lines, he drew her waiting, wanting feminine sheath to his mouth and twirled
his tongue inside her.

“Oh!” she cried, her elbows collapsing beneath her. Her face lolled mere inches above
his manhood. “How convenient,” she murmured, and, while she was wracked with her own
pleasure, encircled the tip of his erection with her mouth.

Luke groaned—right over that small button of flesh that craved his touch—and sent
even more luscious vibrations through her.

For several minutes, they teased each other this way. Janice was determined to bring
Luke to pleasure first, but she couldn’t last—his skills as a lover were so great,
she was on the brink of falling into another piece of heaven before she knew it.

Then, out of nowhere, he stopped loving her with his mouth. “Tell me you won’t marry
him,” he said.

“I can’t promise,” she whispered, the juncture of her thighs throbbing with need of
release. “What if he threatens to kill you otherwise?”

“I told you I can take care of myself. Tell me
now
that you won’t marry him.”

“I won’t marry him,” she said, and meant it. “I’d rather live alone the rest of my
life on this memory with you than marry him.”

Luke chuckled deep in his chest. “Good.” He paused a beat. “I mean the part about
your not marrying him. But you shouldn’t be alone, Janice. Promise me you won’t let
that happen.”

“No,” she whispered. “If I can’t have you, I want no one else. And this time, Mr.
Callahan, I won’t budge. Now let’s get back to what we were doing.”

He sighed against her thigh. “You’ll change your mind about that being alone. You’ll
get over me, my lady.”

“No, I won’t,” she said.

He grabbed her thighs and pulled her close, and in seconds she was climaxing against
his mouth while her own tongue swirled in mad abandon about the smooth granite of
his erection.

He came then, too, strong and true, and she was with him the entire way, never abandoning
him once as he pulsed and bucked and groaned his satisfaction.

She rolled off him onto her back, her arms and legs like rubber and spread wide. “If
that’s not proof that I’m not always a lady…”

He reached over and caressed her leg. “You’re perfection.”

Her heart soared with happiness. She was with her man like no other.

Luke.

And then her beloved sat up on his elbows. “When we go our separate ways,” he said
soberly, “know this: you have my heart.”

The very words filled her like nothing else could.

“But in the world we live in, my love”—still he caressed her—“a heart is not enough.
You need security. Companionship.”

“You’re wrong!” She sat upright and pulled away from him. “You’re so wrong, Luke Callahan.
But it’s not your fault. You never learned about love—yes, you had the nuns, but you
never learned about love close-up.”

She leapt to her feet and pulled on her night rail.

He stood, too. “I know I didn’t. Don’t you see? This is why we don’t belong together.
We believe two totally different things. You believe in hope. I believe in seeing
the worst-case scenario right away and preparing for it. You don’t believe me now,
but the further you get away from me, you’ll realize how ill-matched we are. And when
you do, you’ll look back at this moment and be glad I didn’t hold you to your plan
for us to run away.”

“I beg to differ,” she said. “You’ll look back and rue the fact that you turned me
down.”

She went to the door and looked back at him. “It’s not too late,” she said. “I’ll
be waiting for you. Every night, for the rest of my life if I have to.”

But he didn’t understand. He was still too worried about her. His gaze was almost
pitying.

“You’re the one who needs pity,” she said, “because as you reminded me tonight—and
have every time we’ve been together—people are bigger than their circumstances. But
you don’t apply that same lesson to yourself. You’re a coward, Luke Callahan, as strong
as you are, as clever as you are. True survivors open themselves up to the world,
pains and ills and all—and let it in anyway. They live, in other words. They don’t
merely exist, as you do.”

She pushed open the door to the cellar, hoping he’d come behind her and pull her down
and say,
Let’s go, right now. Let’s run away!

But he didn’t.

No. He didn’t.

Her eyes stung with tears. Her throat tightened as she tried to hold back the grief
and, yes, her fury at him. Quietly she shut the door behind her.

Not a peep of lantern light shone through. She could no longer smell his skin, the
salty aroma of his sweat and his seed. She couldn’t see his eyes, touch his face.

They were over, she and Luke, by his choice.

It was a foolish one.

But she loved him all the same. She loved her broken man like no other—

All the same.

Chapter Thirty-one

When the four glossy, unmarked carriages came rolling up the drive in the early afternoon,
Janice’s heart—which was so bruised after her middle-of-the-night encounter with Luke—swelled
with relief at the sight, and her eyes welled up.

Her family!

She could survive anything with them nearby.

“There’s an awful lot of them, isn’t there?” Halsey said in his cool, ducal manner.

But she sensed his unease. “Yes, there are.” They were standing next to each other
in front of a large drawing-room window. Mrs. Friday sat on the other side of the
room, and as usual, she was peacefully sewing. The hounds had taken to her. One rested
its face on her slipper. “They’re like ants, my family is,” said Janice, “always multiplying,
it seems. But I like it that way.”

“Right,” he said dryly.

“I intend to have eight children,” she told him, just to be wicked.

“Eight?” His beautiful brow puckered.

“At least,” she said blithely, and thought,
But not with you.

It would be with Luke or with no one.

She might as well tell Halsey now so that he could prepare himself. It would hardly
be fair to wait. Of course, he’d never been fair to her, had he? Coercing her into
agreeing to his unofficial proposal?

But she wasn’t he. She had more integrity and kindness than he ever would, and she
wouldn’t be brought down to his level.

“We’ll wait outside,” he told her.

“Not yet,” she answered. “There’s something I must tell you first.”

“Yes?” He put his hands behind his back and lowered his brow at her.

His fondness for her defying him obviously had worn thin. He wanted control now. Nothing
more. It just went to show how cheap were his thrills, how little there was beneath
the surface.

She peeked over his shoulder at Mrs. Friday, who didn’t seem to notice their tension,
which was a good thing. Janice didn’t want to embarrass Halsey any more than she had
to. “No matter how you threaten me,” she said low, “I won’t marry you, Halsey. And
I intend to go home with my family tomorrow.”

It would break her heart to leave Luke. But what could she do? He’d have nothing to
do with her.

Halsey’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze was flinty. “You
will
marry me. If you won’t see reason, your father will.”

“He cares more about my happiness than reason.” It was what she loved best about him.