Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02] (16 page)

“We need to speak,” he snapped out.

Elizabeth’s heart pounded fiercely in her chest. Did he know? Had he guessed her secret? There was a determination in his gaze that said he knew something. “Very well.” She forced her attention to Will and Sarah. “Leave us, please.”

Sarah stepped close to her.
“Tu es sûre que tu veux que je te laisse toute seule?”

Are you sure you want me to leave? Of course she wasn’t sure.

She nodded, sliding Gideon a quick glance before refocusing on Sarah.
“Oui, il sera difficile de lui séduire si tu restes ici.”
It would be hard to seduce Gideon with the woman in attendance.

And she would seduce him…again. The truth of the matter was that she had accepted his proposition, as disrespectful as it had been, because she needed him here. And yes, as much as she was loath to admit it, she wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to make her reach heaven as he had that night at the inn. Just the thought of his hands on her body made her mouth go dry, her soul cry out.

She was barely aware when Will and Sarah headed toward the house. When Gideon appeared, she was rarely aware of anyone but him. He wore the clothing she’d purchased for him. A dark green waistcoat under a dark brown jacket and tan trousers that hugged his muscled thighs.

“Yes, let’s talk,” Elizabeth said breathlessly. Did he think of their night at the inn? Did he want her as much as she wanted him? She would soon find out.

She started across the garden toward the back of the grounds where they could find some privacy, ignoring the dark skies slowly encroaching. “Shall we walk? It’s such a lovely day.”

She could only pray that he followed. There were so many things to tell him, so many things to keep from him. It was a fine balance of truth and lies that she wove and she could only pray she could juggle them both. Moments later she felt his presence behind her. That shiver over her skin, that tightness in her chest
as if she couldn’t quite draw breath. She feared she would always know him merely by the reaction of her body.

She kept her footsteps slow and sure, finding the path that led into the woods with ease. A low rumble of thunder shook the ground. Having traveled the forest enough, she knew every inch of the land. “Just over the hill.”

A carpet of bluebells spread across the forest like a fairyland. A magical place, far removed from the pretentiousness of London. Here they could live in ease, if only her mother-in-law would leave them in peace. She ducked underneath a low-hanging oak branch and glanced behind her. Gideon was looking around warily, as if he didn’t trust the woods. He acted like a wild animal that had been locked away for years, only to be set free.

“I do so love to be outside in the forest.” He didn’t respond, but she wasn’t one to give in so easily. “In the woods I am not a poor chambermaid from London. The trees do not look down their noses at me.” She laughed, amused by her own silly thoughts. “I’m just…me, and the butterflies and flowers accept my station in life without question.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t tell her to cease her prattle or walk away either, as she’d expected. Perhaps he regretted leaving her the other day at the creek. Perhaps she was making some progress with the man after all. Yes, they had a physical relationship, there was no doubt. But could they have more?

For a few minutes they were silent, continuing their trek until the estate was no longer visible and they were hidden by the woods, surrounded by whispering leaves and sweet-smelling flowers. When she heard the soft murmur of the water, she tried once more to draw him into conversation.

“I was born not far from here, you know. But my mother decided we should try our hands at the city, and we moved to London when I was but ten.” She shivered, partly from the sudden cold breeze and partly from the memories. “It was dreadful being poor in the city. Dirty. Crowded. At least in the countryside
we could hunt a rabbit for food. In the city there were only rats. I found the flavor lacking.”

He didn’t respond. She slid him a glance, wondering if he felt any sort of empathy at hearing her story, for she knew it was similar to his. A different city, perhaps, but the same sort of life. Lack of coins, food, shelter. Desperation. His face showed no emotion, hidden within the shadows.

Undaunted, she hopped across the stone pathway that led through the creek. “My sister was my only sibling. When she died, I felt so very guilty, as if I should have protected her.”

Gideon didn’t cross the creek but stood there glaring at her from the other side. “Is there a point to your chatter, my lady?”

Of course! She turned away from him and moved toward a cropping of yellow daisies. She had a feeling he used that creek as a wall to separate them. Much like Mr. Smith, Gideon obviously didn’t wish to be close to anyone. It made her feel very sad indeed. She furrowed her brow, hoping she looked confused. “Do I have a point?”

“What is the purpose of our conversation?” he demanded, arms crossed over that broad chest. He didn’t understand and the man hated not having control. She, at least, understood him well enough.

She plucked a daisy from its stem and placed the flower behind her ear. “My point is that I know what it’s like to lose family, to lose your sibling, your parents. Henry and Mouse have already lost most of their family. I will not allow them to lose anyone else.”

“Really? And are you God? Can you prevent that from happening?”

She smiled, turning toward him. “Here, perhaps I am.”

It was a sacrilegious thing to say, and she was surprised lightning didn’t strike her dead. Surely Mr. Ashton would have laughed at such a bold comment. But Gideon merely glared as she moved across those stepping stones, heading back toward him.

Reaching the bank, she paused, took the flower from her hair, and placed it in the top buttonhole of his jacket. He
stiffened, his lips a tight line of utter outrage. Her shoulder brushed his as she moved past, waiting, hoping, praying that he’d follow. When she heard the distinct thump of his footsteps on the forest floor, she smiled secretly to herself. Nervousness and excitement combined. He might not like her, but he was intrigued enough.

She took in a deep breath and released it between pursed lips. “If your offer still stands, I will accept.”

“What offer?”

He was closer than she thought. When she turned, she was surprised to see that he stood only a breath away. The flower was gone. Watching her through wary eyes, he propped his shoulder against an oak tree. He might not like her, and he did a rather thorough job of letting her know, but he wanted her. Yes, she noticed the way he boldly studied her body, the way his nostrils flared ever so slightly when she was near, the way his hands fisted as if he resisted the urge to touch her.

“You are in control. You tell me when you want to be intimate, and I will come to your bed. In exchange, you’ll protect us.” In exchange, he’ll stay here, hopefully come to appreciate them, come to care.

He quirked a dark brow. “How wonderful of you to accept.”

“Please rethink your former rejection.”

He hadn’t sounded happy about it, and she knew that he was going to reject her proposition once more and probably quite rudely. A low rumble of thunder shook the skies. Was it a warning? Elizabeth didn’t dare glance away from him to check the weather. A soft breeze swept through the woods, whipping her hair and skirts around her in a whirlwind and sending his musky scent her way.

“Oui, il sera difficile de lui séduire si tu restes ici,”
he said, repeating the words she’d said earlier. Repeating them in a wonderful French accent as if…as if he actually understood what they meant. A cold chill washed over her body. She knew in that moment her
ruse was up. Oh God, he knew she’d planned to seduce him. What else did he know?

He paused close, so close his warm breath whispered across her lips. “I’m not seduced. I do the seducing.”

He caught her gasp of surprise with his mouth. Damn it all, her body immediately reacted to his touch, as if she was dying and only he could bring her back to life. He tasted like whiskey and mint. Like him. Only him. How she craved his taste, his scent, the very feel of him. It took all of her control not to thrash at his shirt, tear the material from his chest. He made her utterly mad with desire.

He pulled away from her, his lips trailing down her jawline to her sensitive neck. The rain fell, pattering against the leaves, a musical tune that urged her onward. Lightning could have struck, hail could have fallen, the entire world could have ended, yet she wouldn’t have cared.

“Do you want me?” He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him, his gaze hard and unrelenting. He frightened her as much as he excited her. “Answer me.”

He was vulgar and rough and she didn’t care. Their only night together had left her aching with a need only he could fulfill. She’d woken up every morning miserable and angry. But now it was as if she was finally getting nourishment after having fasted.

“Perhaps I do want you.” She challenged him even as the rain fell around them, trailing down the hard planes of his face. Even as thunder rumbled through the countryside, shaking the ground and rattling the trees. And even while she was terrified of his response.

His gaze narrowed, and a primitive growl seeped from his lips. An animalistic sound that sent a shiver over her skin. A muscled arm wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her with ease, pressing her back to the tree. His strength was overwhelming and made her aware in so many ways of how different they were from each other.

How she’d dreamt of this the last few nights. His obvious desire tore through her resolve. She was horrible, dreadful, no better than the women who sold their bodies in London. She didn’t care, she didn’t care if she lost her soul, at the moment she only wanted him deep inside her.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to the man who made her feel wanton and beautiful. Made her feel like no other man had ever made her feel before. The warm breeze brushed her legs as he lifted her skirts, bunching them up to her waist. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pressing to her bodice with an eagerness that should have been embarrassing.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, shifting so his hard cock pressed to her lower belly.

As if he couldn’t tell. The bastard wanted her to beg. “Yes,” she practically moaned.

His mouth found hers as his fingers slid into the waistband of her undergarments. Good God, he would take her here in the forest where anyone could happen upon them. Sadly, she didn’t care.

His tongue delved between her lips, deepening the kiss until she was consumed by his presence. Elizabeth welcomed him fully, meeting his tongue thrust for thrust. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out the patter of rain. His hand brushed the soft area shielding her femininity, and Elizabeth practically cried out.

He tore his mouth from hers, his breath harsh upon her lips. “You’re so damn wet.”

His vulgar comment only added to her desire. When his fingers touched her silken folds, pleasure sparked through her body. But he wasn’t done quite yet. He lifted his hips, grinding his hard cock against her thighs.

“More?” he whispered, so good at reading her mind.

“Please,” she groaned, her nails biting into his broad shoulders.

He slipped one finger into her dampness. Pure pleasure. She clenched her teeth, arching her back and taking him deeper. He was tormenting her with desire and need. With one arm he held
her to the rough bark of the tree, and with his other hand he managed to slide his finger in and out of her very heat.

“I want you underneath me,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “I want to thrust deep within you.”

Yes
, she wanted to agree.
Yes. Yes. Yes!

Suddenly her undergarments were yanked down, the warm summer air whispered against her thighs and bottom. “So tight,” he muttered.

Her hair was plastered in wet clumps to her head, her clothing soaked, but she didn’t care. When she lifted her head, his lips met hers in a bruising kiss. She knew, when he slipped two fingers into her sheath, she knew that he was going to do it, he was going to seduce her there, in the open, as the rain fell upon the trees of Western England. He was going to prove he could have her anywhere…anytime. And she was going to let him.

His thumb brushed across that nub between her folds. Elizabeth cried out as shiver after shiver of delight pulsed through her body. A feeling so strong that she would have collapsed had he not been holding her upright. His entire body had turned to stone, she could feel the muscles strain beneath his clothing, pushing at the seams. Could feel his cock swell, pulsing against her. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but he wouldn’t give in. He was proving a point, showing her who was in charge.

His thumb brushed her again as his fingers slid inside. Elizabeth shuddered, whimpering as the ache between her legs tightened into an unbearable need.

“Please, Gideon.” She arched her hips.

For that brief moment she didn’t care if she acted the whore. She only cared about feeling once more. For one brief moment nothing in life mattered but him. He shifted, sliding his thigh between her legs. His thumb brushed her again and she was lost. The entire world exploded into pure white pleasure.

“Gideon,” she cried out, her voice echoing against the trees.

His tongue slid down her neck as he tasted her skin. Elizabeth shivered, his touch too intense. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from her. She felt as if he’d torn her heart from her chest and held it firmly in his grip. Elizabeth groaned. Completely gone, she sank into him, her body trembling and spent.

The sensual cocoon that enveloped them faded. Never had she experienced anything like this before. It was as if her body was no longer her own. He’d taken over her mind, heart, soul. The rain was coming down in hard sheets that pierced the trees and stung her skin, but still they didn’t move.

She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to pull her arms from around his neck and step away from him. She didn’t want everything to return to how it had been. No, she wanted to stay pressed to his hard body, to feel his heart beat against hers. She wanted to lick his skin and taste him as he had tasted her. She wanted to pretend he cared.