Master of Pleasure (19 page)

He froze, his chest heaving against hers, and released her tongue and her face. He jerked back.

Her eyes snapped open and numbly flicked her sore tongue in an effort to recover. By gad. It was like he had tried to eat her. Whole. The base of her throat still pulsed, making her feel as if her heart had risen from its usual place. Ryder, even in his most riled amorous state, had
never
kissed her like that. Ever. This man had kissed her as if his soul depended on convincing her he was worthy of more than what she had in her mouth.

It was everything she could have ever wanted in a kiss.

She dragged in several astounded breaths, composing herself from the excitement of knowing what they had just shared:
real passion
. In his eyes, it was obvious she was no sister. It had actually nudged itself closer to outright prostitution. “That was…quite a kiss,” she breathed.

“I’m sorry.” He swiped his flushed face with a large hand. “I’m so sorry I did that.”

Sensing his distress over the fact he had hurt her, she quirked a brow. “I’m fine. Fortunately, my tongue is still functioning and attached.”

He stared. “I hurt you. And that is unacceptable.”

Bless his ever magnificent heart. He was like a benevolent giant who realized his size made it impossible for him to be delicate. “I’m fine. More than fine. I…” A shaky breath escaped her. “That kiss was so perfect, I still can’t breathe. Nor do I want to. It made me feel like the woman I always wanted to be. Do it again.”

“No.” He edged back. “Once was enough.”

She swallowed, her cheeks slowly burning in humiliation knowing after one kiss he was done. It would seem she, as a woman, had clearly failed to meet his expectations as a man.

It hurt. But at least he had the decency not to have let it go as far as Ryder had. “I disappointed you, didn’t I?” she managed, trying not to convey any emotion.

“No,” he rasped. “You didn’t. Believe me when I say you didn’t. This isn’t about you. This is about me.”

She stilled. “Ryder said the same exact thing to me when he called off our engagement. That his disinterest wasn’t about me. But obviously, this
is
about me. How else can two very different men end up saying the same thing to the same woman? Am I not attractive enough? Am I not—”

“
Leona
.” Malcolm’s blue eyes intently held her gaze. “Stop overreacting. Ryder was and
is
an idiot. I’m not calling off anything. In fact, you’re going with me to Persia. Both you and Jacob. And I promise, you’ll never have to be a servant to anyone again.”

Her lips parted, her heart pounding in elation
and
confusion. Persia aside, he had just called her Leona. As if he were already the master of her heart. “I don’t understand.”

His voice broke. “I don’t expect you to. I’m simply asking that you and I keep this civilized. All right? It’s important. You have to help me.”

“Help you?” She blinked. “With what?”

“We need to control this.”

“Control what?”

“Our attraction to each other.”

“Why would we want to control that? Isn’t attraction good?”

“No. Not given what went through my head when I kissed you.”

She paused. “What went through your head?”

“If I answer that, you would take your child and run. And I don’t want that. I rather like you. Simply know that
this
can’t end up in a bed. It’s never going to happen.”

She swallowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’m overly aggressive in nature.”

Now she was morbidly curious as to what falling into bed with him
would
bring. Bruises from too much touching? Or broken bones from falling through the bed and onto the floor? The very thought of all that muscle unleashing
that
much passion only made her want him more.

Maybe she was stupid wanting to poke a lion with her bare finger, but she had learned to set aside the sweet, naïve girl who used to wait for the crumbs others would give her. In the name of her son, she learned to be more ruthless and seize what she wanted. Right down to a bear toy. And this was no different. Because waiting for what she wanted only led to disappointment and heartache.

She was done with that.

She stepped toward him. “I’m not scared of you. And I’m more than willing to prove it. We have at least an hour. I say we make use of it.” Holding his gaze, she undid the small hooks at the base of her throat and kept opening it, determined to show him far more than a corset. “If I can survive giving birth standing up, I can survive you.”

His gaze fell to her fingers, his chest rising and falling. “I wouldn’t do that.”

She stopped unfastening the hooks just above the ridge of her corset beneath. “Would you rather do it?” she asked, uncertain as to what he wanted.

“No.” His gaze was still on her fingers. “I’ve seen enough. Put it away.”

Put it away? Was he worried he’d see something he shouldn’t? Like…sagging breasts? “I assure you, my pregnancy didn’t destroy
that
much. Everything is still fully functional and—”

“Stop arguing with me, Leona, and hook yourself up.”

“But—”

He glared. “I’m not interested in seeing your damn breasts or anything else. Not now or ever. Is that too hard for you to understand?”

Not now?
Not ever
? What on earth was this? He was making her feel so unattractive. Which she damn well didn’t need after Ryder. “No. I don’t understand. And I’ll not do
anything
until you tell me what this is about. I’ve met plenty of men who demand a woman undress, but I’ve
never
met a man who—”

He snapped up a hand and then rigidly sliced the air with it to demand cooperation. “Stop talking, Leona, and just hook yourself up. All right? I’d do it myself, but I’m not touching you. So I suggest you hurry up with those fingers and get everything in place.”

The audacity.
No
amount of talking was going to help this or him. He was delusional if he thought he could insult her and then expect her to be polite about it.

Knowing it was silence he wanted, she decided to give it to him.

Hooking herself up almost to the point of tearing the seams, she glared at him to ensure he knew she wasn’t pleased. When she finally finished adhering the last fastener into place, she pointed a single finger at the now covered throat. A throat she planned to protect right along with a heart that had been through too much to make any of this acceptable. “I don’t plan to
ever
show you anything
ever
again,
Malcolm
. So you needn’t worry in that. It’s fairly obvious you aren’t interested in what I have to offer, and I wish to assure you, I not only regret offering, but will
never
offer it to you again. So don’t ask.”

His earlier dark mood lifted. “Please don’t get annoyed with me. I’m only doing what I think is best. Now listen up. Because I’m only going to say this once.”

Setting both hands behind his back, he paced back and forth, back and forth, like any military man would, occasionally glancing at her in between his trooping which shook the room. “Given you and I already kissed, and that I respect you and admire you with genuine sincerity that goes beyond anything I have ever felt for a woman, I now have a moral obligation and responsibility toward you as a Christian
and
a gentleman. We will therefore write up a contract for
nikāh
in the presence of a lawyer so it can be delivered well before we get to Persia. Expect several ceremonies that will bore us both beyond mental tolerance. The good that will come of it is that you and Jacob will live the sort of lives few get to touch. I will do my best to see you both whenever I can and extend my stay when permissible, but I’ll be at sea most of the time, which cannot very well be helped. Persia may be going to war with Russia.”

She bit down on her lip until it throbbed right along with her pulse. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was asking her to marry him. Already? Noooo. Why would he— Their kiss must have rattled her brain
and
his. “Pardon my ignorance, but...what are you talking about?”

He stopped trooping. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. And while we’re on the subject of my confusion, are you actually admitting to me that you’re an admiral for the Persian navy?”

“Yes. I’ve been with the Persian navy since I was nineteen.”

She squinted. “But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re a British earl.”

He sighed. “It’s complicated. I fell into it when I was young and quickly realized England doesn’t need the sort of help Persia does. England will always have my love and eternal respect, but Persia has become more than my home. It is my way of life. I’m connected to the land and the people. They welcomed me during a time when I wasn’t even willing to welcome myself.”

That sounded a bit arcane. “But isn’t serving another country outside of your own considered…oh, I don’t know…
treason
? Don’t people hang for that?”

“Damn right they do.” He pointed at her. “And that is why you will tell
no one
outside of these four walls I’m working for the Persian government. No one. Not even Jacob. I’m putting my very breath into your hands, pigeon. I expect you to be infinitely flattered.”

She tightened her lips. “
By what
? That you are now assigning me with an endearment that has only three letters
more
than the word ‘
pig
’?”

He tsked. “I happen to like pigeons. They can fly through enemy fire and still deliver a message. Now stop nagging me and embrace the fact that I revere you enough to tell you all of my secrets. The sort of secrets that get a man killed. For that alone, I expect to be fully rewarded.”

She straightened and adjusted the collar of her gown. “I was trying to.”

He lowered his chin. “That wasn’t what I was talking about. Respect the fact that I respect you enough to keep this civil. Now. I’m already a year beyond the age most men enter into
nikāh.
So the sooner we do this, the better off I’ll be. Traditionally, contracts are signed before a family member representing each side but given you aren’t talking to yours and I’m not talking to mine, we’ll keep it to us and a sole witness, and whatever we both agree on, we agree on. It shouldn’t be that complicated. We like each other, don’t we?”

What…? She squinted. “What are you talking about?”

He dropped his hand to his side. “Marriage.
Nikāh
is a legal contract between a groom and his bride. We agree on certain terms, I pay you the
mahr
, and then we fulfill those terms by way of ceremony. It’s essential to upholding an Islamic marriage. It’s the whole ‘your foes and woes are mine and mine are thine’ mentality.”

She choked. He
was
asking her to marry him. Holy— “Whilst flattered well beyond breath knowing I was able to get you to propose so quickly, I’m not Muslim.”

“Neither am I. But these Persians get offended if we stay in their land and don’t play along. Consider them family. For they are. You and I will have our own Christian ceremony here in London before we leave. That way, it will be legal in our eyes and that of our God. Not just theirs. Now what is your
mahr
? Name your dowry and I will acquire it.”

She hesitated. “My dowry?”

“Yes. What sort of dowry do you want? How can I get you to accept my offer of
nikāh
? Name your price. It can be money or any other physical item you want.”

This was…unusual. “I set a price? And
you
pay it in return for
my
hand?”

“Yes.”

“I’m confused. Doesn’t the female usually pay the dowry to a man?”

“No. Not in Persia. A female is worth far more there than she is here in England.”

Imagine that. She’d been living in the wrong country all her life. “Well, I…” She paused. What was she thinking? He didn’t have much. And if he was going to marry her and provide for her and Jacob, she really didn’t need much else. Not financially, at least. “I accept your offer without this
mahr
. I waive my right to it.”

He lowered his chin. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“A good husband more than satisfies the price I want paid. There is no need for us to throw money at it. I find that incredibly vulgar and not in the least bit romantic.”

“
Romantic
?” He said the word as if trying to swallow a jug full of vinegar. His aloofness showed. “Leona, I’m not a…
rendez-vous romantique
sort of man. Or is that not obvious?”

She met his gaze, sensing his wariness. “It’s obvious.”

“Good. Because I dislike having expectations placed on me. I place enough on myself.” He hesitated. “Our agreement won’t be binding unless I offer you a physical gift of
mahr
. So what will it be? What do you want?”