Abducted by a Prince (21 page)

He regarded her with frank admiration. “The true secret is that you’re a strong, accomplished woman, Ellie. I pity them for never realizing it.”

That warm glow flared inside Ellie again. It made her skin tingle and her heartbeat quicken. Damien had awakened feelings in her that she hadn’t known existed, and it was more than just that lusty kiss. A connection had formed between them, perhaps because they’d both suffered undeserved misfortune in their childhood, he being abandoned by his birth parents, and she as an orphan forced to live with relatives who did not love her. They knew each other’s secrets now, too. She about his late wife, and he about her book.

But he was merely a charming rogue, Ellie reminded herself, as he took the notebook from her, examined her latest drawings with interest, and proceeded to make a clever case for Prince Ratworth to be a hero rather than a villain. She couldn’t help laughing at his inventive ideas to give his likeness a larger role in the story.

All the while, she found herself observing the economical movement of his hand as he turned the pages, the quirk of his lips whenever he told a jest, the way his expression softened sometimes when he looked at her. His every mannerism fascinated her, and the undeniable warmth she felt for him warred with her practical side.

It would be foolish to fall prey to his allure. The Demon Prince had committed the villainous act of abducting her, bringing her here against her will. Nothing could ever come of their unexpected friendship. Once they left the castle, they would part ways. Damien would return to his London gambling den and she would move into her cottage.

Yet the memory of that passionate kiss burned like a flame within her. In spite of all wisdom to the contrary, he had become a fire in her blood. She couldn’t abide the thought of never again feeling his lips on her mouth, or his hands on her body. And the longer they sat talking and bantering on her bed, the more she found herself daring to ponder the unthinkable.

Chapter 16

Ellie took great care in readying herself for dinner that evening.

Using needle and thread, she spent the better part of an hour altering the bodice of a sapphire-blue gown to create a daringly deep décolletage that showcased her bosom. Then she sat in front of the speckled old mirror at the dressing table, combing and pinning until the artful cascade of curls finally pleased her. Lastly, she slipped her feet into the sparkly garnet slippers that Lady Milford had given to her.

How long ago that day seemed. Yet only a little more than a week had passed since she and Beatrice had come outside after paying their call, and Ellie had spied the menacing, black-clad stranger sitting in his carriage, watching her cousin. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that less than ten days later, she’d be waiting in the tower of a faraway castle, hoping that same man would make passionate love to her.

No, she had done more than
hope.
She had set into motion a brazen scheme to lure him into her bed. A tremor of doubt and desire eddied through her. Did she truly dare to go through with it?

A rapping sounded on the door. Her heart fluttered, although a glance at the high window confirmed the time to be twilight, about half past five so late in February. That meant the visitor could only be Mrs. MacNab. Ellie had requested an early dinner on the excuse that she was weary and wished to retire for the night as soon as darkness fell.

She’d also sent Damien away in mid-afternoon, on the excuse that she was weary and needed a nap. Oh, and would he please be so kind as to return at six o’clock and bring pen and ink so that she could start on the final renditions of her preliminary sketches?

Leaning on the stick that he’d fashioned for her, she made her way across the bedchamber. Her insides felt like a tightly wound spring. She truly
was
a brazen hussy for fibbing to both of them—and for such a wicked cause. What if Mrs. MacNab suspected from Ellie’s risqué gown the purpose she had in mind?

Good heavens. Why, oh, why hadn’t she considered that before now? It would be mortifying if anyone else guessed how much she craved to indulge her sinful passions. She wanted it to be a secret known only to her and Damien.

The mere thought of the Demon Prince made her knees wobbly. Ever since that ardent episode on the parapet, she had been too distracted to work on her illustrations. Instead, she had existed in a dreamlike state, reliving his kiss again and again: the forceful hunger of his lips on hers, the rasp of his whiskered jaw against her cheek, the stimulating stroke of his finger across her bare nipple. Most thrilling of all had been the moment when he had cupped her bottom and lifted her against him, and she had felt the hard pressure of his loins against hers.

Tonight she wouldn’t react like a shocked maiden and stop him. Tonight she would tempt Damien into another fervent embrace. And when he responded like the rogue he was, and hauled her into his arms, this time she fully intended to surrender to his seduction.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ellie opened the door. Icy air rushed in from the dim-lit stairwell. But it wasn’t the maidservant who waited out on the landing.

Damien himself stood there, gripping the handle of a large basket in one hand. He wore his greatcoat with the collar turned up, his black hair attractively mussed by the wind. One corner of his mouth was curled in a charming half-smile.

“I thought I’d save Mrs. MacNab a trip since I was coming up here anyway,” he said in his deep baritone. “I assured her there was no reason for us both to climb those winding stairs…”

His voice trailed off as he took in Ellie’s appearance at a glance, his gaze lingering on her cleavage. She felt a little shiver of pleasure. Was he remembering how he had put his hand inside her bodice? Despite the chill in the air, heat radiated through every part of her body. She basked in the realization that her plan to tempt him was already working. Or at least it would if she stopped gawking at him like a besotted ninny.

She stepped back to allow him entry. “Do come in, Damien. You must forgive me for being surprised. I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”

Those green-gray eyes subjected her to a penetrating stare. A controlled politeness replaced his smile. “I shan’t stay more than a moment,” he said. “I only wanted to deliver what you’d asked me to bring. I trust you had a good rest?”

As he spoke, Damien carried the basket to the table by the fire. The flames danced and crackled into the silence. He opened the lid and began to unload several covered dishes. As he did so, he glanced at her inquiringly.

Flustered by his statement that he wasn’t staying, Ellie realized that he was waiting for her to reply. “Rest? Oh, yes, of course, the nap was splendid! I’m not weary in the
least
. Quite the contrary.”

“That’s odd,” he said, arranging a plate and utensils for her. “Mrs. MacNab said that you intended to retire early tonight.”

Ellie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Did she? Oh. I do recall saying something to that effect … but it must have been before my nap. I’m feeling perfectly wide awake now. I’m sure I won’t want to sleep again for
hours
.”

Standing by the door, her fingers still curled around the improvised cane, she watched as Damien finished laying out her dinner. Her heart skipped a beat when he straightened up and turned toward her. There was a remote quality to his expression that she didn’t quite understand. He had not removed his coat, either, which could only mean that he’d failed to take her hint.

She tilted her mouth in a heartfelt smile. “I should very much like for you to join me for dinner, Damien. Will you, please?”

“There’s only one plate and one fork, so I think not.” His face somewhat somber, he stepped toward her. “I intend to have an early night myself. You’ll be pleased to hear that Finn believes the storm will have abated enough for us to depart in the morning.”

The news jolted Ellie. Just yesterday, she’d been counting the minutes until their departure. Now, she wanted desperately to prolong their time here at the castle. However, Damien was no longer the warm, relaxed man he’d been earlier in the day, when they’d sat and chatted for hours on her bed. What had happened to make him so indifferent toward her?

“Are you quite certain?” she asked. “Perhaps the seas will still be choppy.”

“Finn is an excellent judge of the weather since he grew up in these parts.” Stopping directly in front of her, Damien reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and drew forth a feathered quill and a corked inkpot. “You requested these earlier,” he said, holding the items out to her. “I trust you’ll have an enjoyable evening working on your storybook.”

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to take the implements from him. He would leave then, and that was the very last thing she wanted.

Oh, why was he not smiling? Would he make no attempt to seduce her, despite the low-cut gown and the care she’d taken with her appearance? Had she been mistaken to believe that he’d enjoyed her company? Mistaken to conclude that he felt as attracted to her as she was to him?

Maybe he really
had
been thinking of his late wife during that impassioned episode on the parapet. Maybe Ellie had just been a convenient substitute for the outpouring of his emotions.

Her heart endured a painful shriveling. Upon their arrival here at the castle, she’d overheard him comment that she was much prettier from a distance. Perhaps he preferred his women to be dainty and blond, the way he’d described his late wife. And yet … Ellie had seen heat in his eyes when he’d looked at her, too.

She couldn’t bear his return to coldness. He had reverted to being the stranger again, as if the warmth, the laughter, the friendship they’d shared only a few hours ago had never happened.

But it
had
happened; their closeness had not been a figment of her imagination. And if this was to be their last night at the castle, she couldn’t let him just go away now. Not when this might be her only chance to learn the mysteries of being fully a woman.

Not when she felt full to bursting with desire for him.

She propped the polished stick against a chair and then took the quill and inkpot from him. The brief touch of their hands ignited sparks of pleasure over her skin. Emboldened, she cast a guileless glance up at him from beneath her lashes. “I’m afraid I can’t manage the cane with my hands full, and I really shouldn’t put weight on my ankle. Would you mind helping me over to the bed? I’d like to put these things on the table there.”

He gave her a keen stare. She half expected him to snatch back the pen and ink and take them over to the bed himself. But he didn’t, much to her satisfaction. Instead, he slid his arm around her waist and walked her across the room.

She made sure to lean heavily on him, to let her bosom brush the side of his chest and to bump her hip against his as if by accident. By the time they reached the bed, her legs felt weak as jelly and she truly did need his assistance in standing.

An oil lamp burned low on the bedside table, casting a soft glow over the plumped pillows and the feather quilt. Ellie craved to be lying there in his embrace, happily subject to his ardent kisses and skilled caresses. But her knowledge of how to achieve that goal was woefully inadequate. In all of her illicit imaginings of this moment, she had never thought to be the one to direct the seduction.

He
was the scoundrel, after all. Oughtn’t he seize her in his arms and have his wicked way with her?

She quickly set down the items atop the notebook. Before Damien could remove his supporting arm, she turned to face him. Her hands came to rest on the lapels of his coat, and by design, her breasts met the hard wall of his chest. His earthy masculinity made her aware of an insistent pulse beating deep in her core.

She gazed up at him imploringly. “Are you quite certain you won’t stay with me for a time?”

His chest expanded as he took in a lungful of air. “No. No, that wouldn’t be wise. Not at all.”

It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. His large hands encircled her waist as if to set her away from him. Yet he did no such thing. He only stared ferociously at her as if wrestling with an inner demon.

Sensing her chance, Ellie reached up to cradle his cheek in her hand. His skin felt wonderfully rough from the day’s growth of his beard, and she ached for him to touch her in return. “Don’t leave, Damien, please don’t. I want you right here with me. I want you to kiss me again as you did before.”

His jaw clenched beneath her hand. He stared at her with grim concentration, his fingers flexing around her waist. “You can’t know what you’re asking, Ellie. It won’t be just a kiss this time. Give me half a chance, and I’ll strip you naked and ravish you in that bed.”

The vehemence in his tone only made her melt, though it was clear he meant to frighten her away with his plain speaking. She smiled up at him. “I
do
know what I’m saying. And that
is
what I want.”

But not even that brazen declaration had the desired effect on him.

He stood rigid, motionless, a fiercely luminous quality to his green-gray eyes. “For God’s sake! I can’t do this, not to you of all women.”

You of all women.
What did he mean? That she was special to him? Or simply that he didn’t wish to compound the wrong he’d already done by abducting her?

In a flash, she comprehended the source of his resistance. It all made sense to her now. Damien didn’t want her to be forced into marriage as his first wife had been. He still carried a terrible burden of guilt from the past, and he feared to repeat his mistake. Despite his sordid reputation, he was determined to treat Ellie with respect.

But she didn’t want him to coddle her, not now. Now, she simply wanted
him.
The only way to accomplish that was to break down the wall of his stubborn scruples.

With one finger, she traced the shape of his mouth. “I’m afraid you’ve no choice in the matter,” she murmured. “You see, Damien, it’s part of my compensation. You owe me one night of pleasure.”