JORDAN Nicole (21 page)

The two of them made a stunningly attractive couple—the earl’s rugged dark looks contrasting starkly with Roslyn’s elegant fairness.

She looked regal and enchanting tonight, her pale gold hair coiffed to allow curling tendrils to frame her face. The simple elegance of her gown added to her appeal also, the indigo blue lustring setting off her eyes to perfection and complementing her radiant, glowing skin.

That heated glow made Drew recall the last time he’d been with her…her face gently flushed, swollen lips slightly parted, blue eyes dazed as her supple figure sprawled over him. Her loins pressing against his swollen cock had made him ache with desire.

He was hot and hard now, just remembering.

He’d wanted to take her right there in the library. His forbearance had resulted in even greater sexual frustration this past interminable week.

Yet avoiding Roslyn hadn’t helped, for she’d begun to invade his dreams. Drew found himself weaving wild, erotic fantasies involving Roslyn wrapped around him in the heat of passion. He couldn’t shut them out, much to his annoyance.

He had just clamped his jaw tight when he heard a familiar voice over his left shoulder.

“So the lovely Miss Roslyn has attracted your interest after all,” Heath said, clearly amused.

Unable to deny the truth of that observation, Drew made no reply.

“I wondered,” Heath went on, “why you would trouble yourself to attend a dull country affair—and I didn’t think it was merely because you pledged to defend Lady Freemantle against lurking highwaymen.”

Hiding his displeasure, Drew replied blandly, “We both promised Marcus that we would keep an eye on his former wards.”

“Notthis close an eye.”

He managed a nonchalant shrug. He hadn’t told his friend about his tutelage of Roslyn, and he wouldn’t do so now. “Haven’t you better things to do than irritate me?”

Heath held up his hands. “Don’t take my head off, old son. I just find it humorous to see the greatest cynic in England in an ill temper over a woman.”

Drew narrowed his gaze. “Why the devil didyou come tonight if you find it so deadly flat? Don’t you know that Lady Freemantle is lying in wait to snare you in her web?”

The question didn’t appear to faze Heath. “I’m not overly alarmed, since the match her ladyship has chosen for me has fled the district.”

“The youngest Loring sister, Lilian?”

“Just so. Reportedly the fair Lily has gone to Hampshire.”

Drew roused himself from his own dark mood to gibe, “What, did you drive her away?”

Heath’s own smile was rueful. “There is that possibility. She is set on eluding me, in any event.”

“How astounding,” Drew said truthfully. Heath had always been the heartbreaker of the three of them. Adoring women flocked to Heath in droves, enticed by his natural charm. “I’ve never known a woman to run from you.”

Heath’s grin turned self-deprecating. “Itis astounding, isn’t it?” He gave Drew a penetrating look. “Is the lovely Miss Roslyn running from you? Marcus suggested she might make you a good match, and you seem to be inching toward that opinion yourself.”

Drew’s scowl returned. His instinctive response was to accuse Heath of having maggots in his head, but he wasn’t so certain it would be true. “You can’t possibly think I have matrimony in mind.”

“Don’t you? Then why have you been watching Roslyn as if you want to carry her back to your lair?”

Had he been that obvious? Drew thought with chagrin.

“Have no fear,” Heath said as if reading his mind. “No one else would suspect. I just know you too well.”

“You are not helping my temper any,” Drew said through clenched teeth.

Heath laughed. “No doubt. But you’d best take care if you don’t want to find yourself hanging in the parson’s noose. You can’t do to her what you’re thinking without the benefit of marriage. Marcus would rip you apart, not to mention that your own honor wouldn’t allow it.”

When Drew all but growled, Heath gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “I think I will take myself back to London before you call me out. There’s little amusement to be found here, anyway. In truth, I wouldn’t mind encountering your highwayman. At least it would liven up my life for a time.”

There was little amusement here for him, too, Drew thought as Heath walked away. Seeing Roslyn dance with Haviland was the primary cause, but his dissatisfaction went deeper than that.

The thought of her trying to seduce Haviland, of making love to him, filled Drew with an inexplicable anger. The bald truth was, he didn’t want her to become carnally intimate with any other man but him.

Hewanted to be the one to introduce her to the secrets of sensuality, to awaken her to passion and pleasure and every other delight to be found between a man and woman.

Which confounded him to no end.

This was the first time in his life he had ever been envious of another man over the fair sex. He was frankly astounded to realize how possessive he felt toward Roslyn.

Worse, he saw no resolution to his cursed predicament. He damned well had no desire for marriage, yet he couldn’t deny the primitive, purely masculine urge to “carry Roslyn back to his lair,” as Heath had put it. Or at the very least, to hold her in his own arms again.

But then, Drew realized, firmly tamping down his lust, it was perfectly proper for a gentleman to hold a young lady at a ball if he danced with her.

Roslyn did not look happy to see him, Drew noted when he came up to her at the conclusion of the quadrille and interrupted her lively conversation with Haviland to claim her for the next set.

“You don’t mind if I steal her away for a dance, do you, my good man?” Drew asked, making the point moot by taking Roslyn’s elbow possessively.

The earl gave him a piercing look, but then bowed with good grace. “As you wish, Arden. I don’t want to monopolize Miss Loring’s time, despite the pleasure it gives me. And I have other guests I must see to.”

Drew knew Roslyn couldn’t very well argue with him, either, as he led her onto the floor for a waltz.

“What ifI mind?” she said then, her tone exasperated.

He returned an innocent look. “Do you have some objection to dancing with me?”

“Of course I do. Winifred has been matchmaking again. She sought you out to beg you to partner me, didn’t she?”

“Well, yes,” he answered truthfully, “butI chose to ask you.”

“You might have done me the courtesy of giving me a choice.”

“You could have refused.”

“Not without causing a scene.”

“Which you are in danger of doing right now,” Drew pointed out, “since the music has begun and we are simply standing here.” When she gave a guilty start, he took her hand and drew her close. “Smile sweetly, darling, and look as if you are enjoying yourself.”

Roslyn complied, even though the light in her eyes suggested she was ready to do battle with him. Drew smiled to himself. The enjoyment had returned to the evening, unquestionably. In fact, he was enjoying himself for the first time since their awkward parting nearly a week ago.

She fitted into his arms quite well as they settled into the rhythm of the waltz, her steps light and graceful. He wondered if Roslyn would follow his rhythm as well when they made love.

Ifthey made love. Which would never happen without the benefit of marriage, as Heath had rightly pointed out.

“So why don’t you wish to dance with me?” Drew asked, determined to confront her misgivings and get them out in the open.

“Our lessons are over,” Roslyn replied primly, as if she had rehearsed her answer. “There is no point in us even seeing each other again. Certainly we are not required to dance together.”

“It will only help your consequence if you are considered the object of my attentions. Youdo want to impress Haviland’s relations, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, but you interrupted a highly promising conversation with him.”

“That was precisely my intention.”

Her eyes flashed. “Are you purposefully trying to spoil my chances with Lord Haviland?”

“What if I am?”

“You wouldn’t…” she began, then eyed him suspiciously. “Would you?”

“That would be ungentlemanly of me,” Drew equivocated. “But it won’t hurt for him to think he has competition.”

Her expression was full of irony. “You arenot his competition. You have made it abundantly clear you aren’t interested in love and matrimony.”

“But he doesn’t have to know that. Take my word for it, a man can become extremely possessive if he thinks someone is poaching on his turf.”

Drawing a deep breath, Roslyn made an apparent attempt at composure. “Thank you, your grace, for your concern on my behalf, but I will proceed with my campaign on my own from now on.”

“What gratitude,” Drew drawled, amused.

“I have already expressed my gratitude several times.”

“I told you, I don’t want your gratitude.”

“Then what do you want?”

You,was Drew’s unbidden thought.I want you. I want your lovely mouth glued to mine. I want your luscious body writhing beneath mine. I want to hear you gasping with pleasure as I fill you….

Aloud, he merely said, “I want to know why you have been avoiding me so assiduously tonight.”

A telltale blush rose to her cheeks. “I think you must know why.”

“You’re embarrassed by what happened between us in your library last week.”

“You are mistaken. I amappalled by what happened in our library last week.”

“So we kissed. There was no harm done.”

“So you say,” Roslyn muttered cryptically.

Drew peered down at her. “DidI hurt you somehow?”

Roslyn grimaced, then shook her head as if chastising herself. “No, of course not. I just should never have let it go so far.” Her gaze narrowed up at him. “Yetyou bear the greater share of the blame, for you are the expert. You should have stopped me.”

“Can I help it if you find me irresistible?”

Her eyes widened as she struggled between vexation and amusement. “Your conceit is astounding, your grace,” she finally said. “It was the novelty of the situation that caught me off guard. But now that I know what to expect, I intend to forget the incident entirely, I assure you.”

“I can’t forget it,” Drew murmured truthfully. “And I don’t believe you can either. You felt something when we kissed, just as I did.”

She refused to acknowledge his assertion. Instead she summoned a serene smile. “You haven’t asked me how my seduction of Haviland went this past week.”

Drew felt his amusement fade. “Very well, darling, how did it go?”

“Splendidly. I think I have finally gotten the hang of flirtation. Haviland seems to be enjoying it, at any rate. I expect we will proceed to kissing at our next encounter, hopefully tomorrow morning. He asked me to drive out with him then. It is what I have been striving for, and I have you to thank for teaching me.”

The lightly taunting words, the challenge in her smile, had a predictable effect on Drew’s male pride, and he found himself clenching his teeth again, while his hands tightened reflexively at her waist and around her fingers.

He was vaguely aware that their steps had slowed as the waltz came to an end, yet it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized he was still holding her.

“Your grace,” she hissed through her teeth. “People are beginning to stare.

Drew released her reluctantly and stepped back. Roslyn offered him a swift curtsy before turning away, a stiff smile pasted on her face that suggested she was struggling for the pretense of civility in front of their audience and trying to hide her eagerness to get away from him.

Drew’s brooding gaze followed her as she moved away through the crowd. He could still feel the lithe warmth of her body, could still feel his own arousal at her nearness. Could feel his temper heating anew.

Roslyn not only had ignored his provocative remarks, but had thrown her own back in his face, leaving him with the natural craving to pick up the gauntlet.

Drew swore a low oath under his breath. The turmoil inside him was only growing stronger.

What in blazes was he going to do about Roslyn Loring? She roused a heat in him, a hunger he’d never felt for any other woman. A hunger that was still un-sated.

The need to possess her gripped him like talons, along with the even greater need to mark her as his, to claim her before Haviland did.

Yet there was only one way he could have her, Drew reminded himself grimly. By making her his bride.

Was he prepared to take such a drastic step?

And if so, what would Roslyn herself have to say about it?

Her limbs still a little weak from her clash with the infuriating duke, Roslyn made the decision to leave the ball at once. She had accomplished what she intended. She’d danced with Lord Haviland and received an invitation to go driving with him tomorrow. There was nothing more to be gained by remaining.

And there was very good reason to escape—not the least of which was to regain command of her scattered wits. Every time she encountered Arden, he roused more turmoil in her.

How could she have allowed him to rile her into nearly making a scene with half the ton as witnesses, including Lord Haviland and his haughty relations? She had intended to ignore Arden’s very existence tonight. Instead she had let him provoke her into an unladylike altercation right there on the ballroom floor.

While it was true the duke could improve her consequence by showing her a measure of polite attention, any more intimate interest would only be detrimental. She couldn’t afford to give rise to gossip, not with the scandals attached to her family name. And if anyone discovered what had already passed between her and the duke, it might very well destroy any chance for her to win Haviland’s heart, not to mention a respectable proposal of marriage.

When Roslyn had retrieved her silk shawl and reticule from the Haviland butler, she made her way through the house to the rear terrace, where she was taken aback to find Arden waiting for her.

Coming to an abrupt halt, she stared at him in frustration. “What the devil are you doing here, your grace?”

He was leaning against the stone balustrade but pushed away when he saw her. “I thought you might decide to leave early.”