Love Me With Fury (6 page)

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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Love Me With Fury
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He sighed heavily, then smiled: that same way which set her senses to reeling madly and her mind to dreaming. “Need I refresh your memory, love? You came to me willingly and eagerly in the beginning. In spite of my normal control, I was past turning back when you changed your mind. Once the raging fires of passion have been ignited and fanned to such a torrid
state, there is but one way to extinguish them. It would be prudent of you to remember that fact in your future…contacts with bedazzled, hot-blooded young suitors,” he advised in an almost fatherly tone, his sober expression serious and tender.

As she silently deliberated upon those curious words, he added, “Had I known of your innocence and dreamy state of mind, I would not have persisted when you panicked and withdrew from me,” he declared candidly, bringing a look of utter surprise to her face. “When you smiled up at me and hungrily responded to my kisses and caresses, I was bewitched beyond reason. When you tried to reject me, I merely judged you a coy tease who had panicked at the last minute or a cunning doxy who wished to levy a hefty price before continuing along your chosen course. Since the damage had been done, there was no need to halt our final union,” he reasoned aloud, also trying to assuage his own disturbing feelings of guilt. “Remember that old adage about the danger of playing with fire and burning one’s fingers? There is no flame more potent or perilous than the unbridled fire of passion. We are both at fault here.”

Alexandria’s brow knit in deep thought. Could he possibly be telling the truth? Had she unknowingly incited him beyond logic and control? He had positively done that exact thing to her. But he was a man of experience and knowledge in these intimate matters. Was he craftily seeking some excuse for his bestial conduct? There was none!

To defend herself and her own wayward actions, she
vowed in irritation, “But I didn’t know what I was doing; you did! I honestly thought you were only an illusion. What real man could possibly look like you or kiss like that?” she foolishly spouted, then moaned in annoyance at her unwitting slip.

A broad, pleased grin flickered enchantingly across his face as he chuckled. “It isn’t funny!” she cried, tears filling her eyes.

“No, love, it isn’t,” he easily agreed. His left hand was playing in her honey tresses while his right index finger was drawing tiny circles upon her left cheek. His touch and expression were disquieting, yet wonderfully exciting. Even though his actions were tantalizing, she wanted him to halt them and leave her alone, fearing another loss of her self-control.

“I promise I won’t hurt you again. This time, you’ll know only pleasure and contentment. You are far too special and fragile to abuse. Come, love; let me prove my claims…”

Next time! the words raced through her mind with lightning speed. Glimmers of alarm sparked terror within her wide emerald eyes. Her body tensed and trembled. “You cannot do that wicked thing again! Please…”

“Such feelings and reactions are natural and normal, love. You’re experiencing emotions which are new and confusing, even frightening. Why is it wicked to feed a hunger which is as old as time itself? Your strict upbringing has taught you to fear and to reject such innate responses. Can you truthfully deny you enjoyed my kisses and caresses? Can you disclaim the
fires which swept through your mind and body? Admit it, love; you desired me as much as I desired you. You’re just too stubborn and afraid to tell me, perhaps even admit to yourself,” he boldly challenged her, the ghost of a triumphant and knowing smile teasing at his sensual lips and mocking eyes.

Another annoying blush colored her face. She silently cursed that weakness which revealed her innermost feelings and thoughts to a stranger! How she wished she could prevent that vexing habit forever. She softly parried, “A kiss is one thing, sir, but seducing an unsuspecting girl is quite another matter. If you cannot judge the vast difference between the two, then you are indeed some crude ruffian! I demand you let me leave here this instant!” she exclaimed, her velvety voice lacking real conviction and courage.

He laughed with genuine amusement. “Not until you reward me with several kisses and tell me your name,” he merrily retorted.

“Reward you!” she shouted in disbelief. “Pray tell, for what? Indeed, I should slit your miserable throat!”

“For chivalrously lying here exchanging banter just to relax you rather than making passionate love to you over and over…which is exactly what I yearn to do?”

She inhaled sharply. Her stomach knotted. She swallowed the lump in her throat with great difficulty. She paled visibly beneath her golden glow. “You, Sir Demon, vastly overestimate your kindness and manners!” she sarcastically sneered, abruptly becoming
aware of the aristocratic bearing and noble breeding he exuded. His cultured, educated speech could not be denied. This was no country bumpkin or lawborn rogue! But why would such a man stoop to ravishing young ladies of his own class? Had he mistaken her for some vulnerable peasant girl with whom he could while away his leisure hours? Even so, it would not excuse his conduct!

Totally unexpectedly, she questioned him, “Who are you? How did you find this secret place? Where did you come from? Since I was a small child, no one has ever discovered or entered my haven.” But Spencer paid no mind to her last comment.

So, she wanted to know his name and identity. Why? Did she wish to turn him over to the British soldiers for imprisonment? Was she so intrigued or spiteful that she would attempt to procure an enforced marriage?

Such ideas brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Marriage was irritating enough as some distant threat over his head, but to be forced to wed a mere commoner was utterly preposterous! Not that she wasn’t the most beautiful, desirable woman he had ever known, but to marry her to save her honor? Frankly, she did reveal a charm, wit, and intelligence which he found refreshing and stimulating. But the unwritten laws of marriage within one’s own station were ingrained within him. In spite of his rebellious and masterful air, that was one area of his life which he had never questioned or resisted. When that revolting moment for marriage arrived, his sense of pride and
duty would wed him to a proper lady of matching bloodline and social rank. At such a time, it would be a tasty paramour such as this peasant girl who would make a stifling marriage tolerable. Still, she could make trouble for him with accusations of rape, trouble which he could not afford at this time. In fact, the limelight could spell disaster and death for him…

No, my exquisite sun-goddess, you shall-not trick me with those bewitching eyes and that innocent air, Spencer thought. I will not permit you or anyone to endanger my mission or family name. He smiled engagingly and lied most convincingly, “For five kisses you can have your answer.” Having no intention of revealing either of his identities to her, he decided a false one might tempt her to spend time with him while he was here. Charmed or ignorant, she couldn’t cause any entanglements with the British forces here. If he managed to win her over and if she were still around and available in a few years, she might be persuaded to become his mistress.

Years? Available? Twinges of jealousy and anger nipped at him as visions of her lying beneath other men flickered before his mind’s eye. Now that she was no longer pure in body—thanks to him—she might see no reason to remain pure in mind and heart either! She might recognize her value as some nobleman’s mistress. Or she could become some highly paid harlot with her looks and charms. He had shown her passion; he had taken away her virginity. She could never return to innocence. With that picture before him, Spencer vowed to sate his desire for her before leaving
Great Britain; for as she had said earlier, they would never meet again…

“Put your arms around my neck,” he tenderly commanded, his voice calm and reassuring. “Tell me your name and then give me five kisses. In return, I will give you mine; then I will release you…if you still wish to leave me.”

Alex’s emerald eyes brightened with a ray of naive hope. Her trusting nature foolishly accepted his devious promise. Anyway, what was the use of fighting him? She was powerless to prevent his intentions, but she might forestall a painful assault. Her only hope for freedom lay in outwitting him, if she could.

An undeniable aura of tightly leashed power and restrained violence could be felt around him. If he so wished, he could easily do what he pleased with her. Yet, a genuine streak of gentleness and intoxicating charm flowed from him when he allowed it to surface. It was obvious to even her naive mind that he did desire her; his body told her that much, as did his blue eyes.

She was completely within his power and control; yet he was attempting to gently seduce her rather than to savagely rape her. Why? Did he prefer her willing and eager beneath him? Or, was it that she was no doubt the first and only female to ever reject his ardent advances?

He was unlike any man she had ever met or known. He was power, passion, and masculinity all rolled neatly and perfectly into one tight mold. He was a complex puzzle which she could not decipher to form
an understandable picture. His moods were like quicksilver. Clearly he wanted and demanded his own way, but disliked having to forcefully extract it or to subtly plead for it. She frowned in dismay.

“Well?” he impatiently growled. “Do we have a bargain?”

“Your word of honor you’ll release me afterwards?” she implored.

“My word of honor, love. Afterwards, I will let you go,” he stated clearly, closing his trap around her as she failed to note his sultry inflection upon the key word “afterwards.”

She sighed in artless satisfaction and trusting relief. A dazzling smile came to her suddenly relaxed features. Yet, even gullibly accepting his false word, she sweetly gave him a false name, “I’m called Angelique.” A perfect choice since he had previously called her an angel! She smiled, not at him, but at her guile. He was insane if he thought she would reveal her real name! She would make certain he could never locate her or abuse her tender soul and traitorous body again. He was much too clever and skilled to risk seeing again. Yet, he was most tempting and compelling…

“Angelique,” the name rolled upon his tongue like a lover’s caress. “Your father named you wisely and accurately,” he remarked favorably, completely taken in by her lie and mood.

“I’ve always liked it. It’s difficult to say in an angry or harsh tone,” she murmured softly to make sure he did not doubt her honesty, which he didn’t. She smiled
timidly and asked, “And yours, Sir Demon?”

“Stephen. My close friends call me Ste; you may do so if you wish,” he smoothly misled her with the same ruse she had used upon him. His confident expression and disarming tone never altered as he deceived her.

He studied the luminous eyes which demurely slipped to his manly chest. She was frightened of him and unsure of herself. She wasn’t familiar with this kind of situation, denying her the right thing to say or do. She was a rare gem, ready to be cut into a valuable and precious stone by the right craftsman. He mentally sharpened and honed his skills, savoring this heady task which lay before him.

She flushed a deep rose as she felt his discerning blue eyes watching her. She refused to meet that intense gaze which alarmed her senses and curiously appealed to her rampant emotions.

He pushed a stray lock of silvery gold silk aside. She nervously flinched at his searing touch. “Don’t be afraid, love. Look at me, Angelique,” he tenderly commanded in a deep and rich tone. He gently grasped her quivering chin and raised her head, bringing her eyes up to his lips. “Look at me,” he said again.

She anxiously obeyed, slowly pulling her hesitant gaze from his smiling lips. Their eyes met and fused, liquid green with molten blue. “Relax,” he coaxed softly. “I’m not some ogre come to devour you. I ask but a kiss to sate my starving soul,” he teased.

His head slowly came down toward her. Disarmed, she permitted his mouth to explore hers in a long and deliberate kiss. He plundered her mouth with a skill to
match his piracy at sea. Several kisses later, her arms went up and around his neck. As his masterful lips branded her mouth, face, and throat with his fiery touch, she was quickly lost to all reality; she had returned to that wonderful dreamland from which there would be no escape.

Gradually all restraint left her body. Those novel and powerful feelings mysteriously stripped away any desire to pull free from him even after the fifth kiss. His silvery tongue softly whispered stirring words which stormed her defense, leaving her quivering within his grasp. She could feel the entire length of their naked bodies as they pressed closer together, dissolving those last remnants of icy resolve. Unaware of her peril, Alex surrendered to his command and direction.

His embrace was possessive and his onslaught was intoxicating. A curious mingling of lanquor and tension surged and mounted within her. Her mind was blissfully dazed by overwhelming lust for him. She needed him; she wanted these rapturous sensations to go on forever. A magical, unbreakable spell was woven tightly and securely around her.

He moved cautiously and very gently, knowing she might still be too sensitive. He did not want to arouse her to the reality of what was actually taking place between them. It appeared she had become ensnared in that beautiful, responsive dreamland once more and he certainly didn’t want to awaken her. His voice huskily coaxed the responses which he wanted while his kisses and caresses drugged her. The ache within
his own loins cried out for release; yet, he fiercely controlled the urge to possess her too soon.

He quelled his guilt when she murmured his name over and over again. Well, Stephen was his first name! He hadn’t exactly lied to her. Maybe it was what she said along with his name that really bothered him. “Love me, Stephen,” she had whispered several times. He somehow knew she did not really refer to physical love—but he quickly discarded these thoughts.

Her hands moved up and down his back, revealing the growing intensity of her passion. Still, he cunningly continued his loving assault, determined to make her totally unable to rebuff him this time. If this was the last time he would ever make love to her, he wanted to taste her complete and willing surrender.

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