Pleasure Me (11 page)

“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear as they followed the royals and their entourage.

“What?” She turned her head, and immediately closed herself off to him as she met his gaze. With a shake of her head, she looked away. “No. Not really, I’ve the beginnings of a headache.”

“Then the sooner we’re out of this noise, the better.”

He knew damn well it wasn’t a headache that had her out of sorts. Whoever the gentleman was who’d dismissed Ruth so coldly, he had upset her deeply. An old lover perhaps? His icy behavior had struck Ruth to the core, and Garrick didn’t like that someone had hurt her. He ignored the warning that echoed in his head at this possessive thought.

With his hand at Ruth’s elbow, they made their way through the crowd toward the first flight of steps. Behind him, a feminine voice commented about the scandal of older women and younger men. If he hadn’t been so close to Ruth, he wouldn’t have noticed the small stumble she made. A quick glance in her direction showed she’d heard the observation.

She’d been insulted twice in the span of minutes, and despite her obvious effort to ignore the slights, they were taking their toll on her composure. The need to protect her swelled inside him, and he leaned into her.

“Should I be worried?” he murmured. At the startled expression on her face, he arched his eyebrow at her in mock irritation. “My vanity would be deeply insulted if I discovered I was vying with a younger man for your attentions.”

For a moment, she simply stared at him in amazement before she laughed. It was a vibrant sound that said he’d managed to ease the pain others had caused her. Amusement sparkled in her eyes, and her mouth curled upward in sweet temptation.

“You sound like a jealous suitor rather than a friend,” she said with a smile. It irritated him that she could discount him so easily.

“Perhaps I’d prefer something more than just friendship.”

It was a ridiculous thing to say, especially when he knew nothing of the kind would ever happen between them, no matter how much he might desire her. And he did desire her. It wasn’t a fact he enjoyed admitting. But it didn’t keep the tension between them from accelerating until a primitive rhythm pounded its way through his veins.

As her mouth formed a small
oh
of surprise, he suddenly wished they were alone so he could kiss her. The dangerous thought didn’t stop him from noting the telltale sign of her excitement in the fluttering pulse on the side of her neck. She wasn’t immune to him. His gaze moved back to her mouth, and he watched in fascination as the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. The sudden stirring of his cock inside his trousers immediately set him on edge.

He recognized the treacherous ledge he was standing on, but it didn’t stop him from imagining Ruth in his bed. Tension ricocheted through him as he realized how easily she was drawing him to her without even trying. God help him if she ever decided to actually try and seduce him. His jaw tightening with self-control, he forced a smile to his lips and continued to guide Ruth down to the lobby where he recovered her wrap for her.

Outside, the night air was unseasonably warm for the beginning of April. As they reached the sidewalk, he looked down the row of carriages in search of his driver. When he failed to see Jasper, he frowned. He would have to leave Ruth in front of the opera house to search for his carriage.

“It appears that my driver had difficulty securing a spot close to the theater. Wait here and I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Should I come with you?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’ll be safer here.”

“Are you saying I won’t be safe with you?” The mischievous smile on her face sent a jolt of electricity through him. The ambiguity of her statement made him search her face intently for a long moment. She blushed in the soft yellow glow of the gaslight and quickly clarified her comment. “As I understand it, you’re an excellent pugilist.”

“And I think you were implying that you wouldn’t be safe with me for an entirely different reason.”

“Then you’re mistaken.” There was the slightest note of panic in her voice that convinced him otherwise. Arching his eyebrow, he saw her blush deepen, but he refrained from arguing with her.

“I’ll return in a moment.”

His stride quick, he moved along the long line of carriages looking for Jasper and his Berline carriage. He’d passed more than ten vehicles before he saw his driver standing on the sidewalk straining his neck in an attempt to see over the crowd. The moment he caught Jasper’s eye, he waved to the man then turned back to collect Ruth.

The return trip to the Opera House steps was quick, and as he approached the theater’s entrance, he saw Wycombe talking to Ruth. He couldn’t be sure, but from the rigid line of Ruth’s back, he knew it was a strong bet that she wanted nothing to do with the bastard. The moment Wycombe saw him approaching, a nasty smile curled the man’s lips. As he reached Ruth’s side, he sent his nemesis an icy glare and gently gripped her elbow.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Wycombe. I thought your entertainment preferences ran to less sophisticated tastes, such as—brawling.” His comment made the other man narrow his eyes at him.

“Hardly, my dear
boy
. I find the opera quite stimulating when in the company of a woman. Particularly one as lovely as the Lady Ruth, although what possessed her to accept your escort is a mystery to me.” Wycombe nodded toward Ruth with a charming smile.

If it were any other man, he would have taken the earl’s comments as good-natured rivalry. But this was Wycombe, and the man was being deliberately insulting. Few people could anger him to the point of losing control, but this man could. There was no love lost between them, and they both knew it, along with everyone else in the Set. The earl’s attempt to charm Ruth simply deepened his antipathy for the man. Suddenly, he wanted to give Wycombe another pounding, just as he had in school years ago. Tension rolled through his limbs as he eyed the man coldly.

“Why don’t you run along and find sport elsewhere, Wycombe.”

“Perhaps we should allow the lady to choose whether she prefers my company or yours, Stratfield.” The earl looked at Ruth with a confident expression. “My dear Lady Ruth. Might I have the pleasure of calling on you tomorrow?”

“I . . . I’m afraid I have—”

“She’s already agreed to accompany me on a drive out of the city tomorrow, Wycombe.”

“Then the day after perhaps?”

The earl persisted as he took Ruth’s hand in his and sent her a confident look. Wycombe’s arrogance sent a blast of fury through him. The bastard simply wanted Ruth because she was with him. The moment Wycombe secured her attention he’d discard her without a second thought.

“The lady will be occupied for quite some time to come, Wycombe,” he said between clenched teeth.

“You seem quite certain of her, Stratfield.”

“Ruth is an intelligent woman. Even if her time wasn’t going to be occupied, I am confident she’d have the good sense God gave her not to accept the attentions of a
buffoon
.”

Garrick immediately regretted losing his temper. Despite the fact that he’d kept his voice low, he was suddenly aware of the curious eyes watching them.
Bloody hell, the Set will be rife with gossip by morning.
Outrage darkened Wycombe’s face. Either the earl didn’t realize they were being watched or he didn’t care.

“If the woman were intelligent, she’d know she was being used by you to make everyone think you a womanizer, when we both know you’re something else entirely,” Wycombe sneered with contempt.

He barely heard Ruth’s gasp of shock as a lethal fury blazed through him at Wycombe’s insult and its veiled implication. It didn’t matter that the bastard hadn’t outright denounced him as a sodomite. It was enough to seed doubt, and the man had said it within hearing distance of at least a dozen people. The bastard had also insulted Ruth. He took a quick step toward the earl, who went rigid with surprise and more than a hint of fear.

“Apologize, Wycombe, or God help me, I’ll make you regret your words in the worst way possible,” he said in a deadly tone that made the man blanch. Despite his evident fear, the man hesitated and Garrick released a low growl of fury.
“Now.”

The earl turned to Ruth and gave her a slight bow. “My apologies, my lady. I allowed my temper to get out of hand and insulted you unintentionally.”

Then with a defiant look in Garrick’s direction, the earl whirled around and stalked away without expressing any regret for the innuendo he’d openly made in public. Garrick watched him retreat with an icy rage he’d not experienced since the day he’d found Tremaine threatening Mary. He wanted to kill Wycombe. The bastard hadn’t apologized for implying he was a sodomite, and the speculation and curiosity on the faces of the small crowd that had observed the altercation angered him even more. His fingers tightened on Ruth’s elbow as he caught the eye of an acquaintance from the Marlborough Club. The man gave him a nod of greeting, but the obvious support did little to ease his fury.

“Come,” he said in a curt voice.

Ruth didn’t argue and kept pace with him as his angry strides ate up the distance between them and the small, intimate carriage. When they reached it, he helped her up into the enclosed vehicle then joined her. Seconds later, the Berline moved out into the heavy after-theatre traffic.

Wycombe’s words swirled in his head in an insidious serpentine manner that only kept his rage flowing hot through his blood. As he stared out the window of the carriage, the earl’s veiled accusation reverberated in his head. Following close on the heels of that memory was the man’s statement that he was merely using Ruth for his own ends.

There was a measure of truth in those words, and it wasn’t sitting well with Garrick’s conscience. It wasn’t his habit to use others like he was using Ruth. Even with Wycombe’s malicious insinuation, he was well aware that his appearance with Ruth tonight would go a long way toward discrediting the earl’s comments. The fact didn’t bring him much satisfaction.

In truth, it only increased his anger. He was a bastard. At least if she were his mistress in name only she would be receiving a monthly stipend from him. It would ease his conscience. He jerked with surprise as Ruth leaned forward to gently touch his knee, a concerned frown on her face.

“He’s an odious man. For him to insinuate something of that nature is appalling, let alone to do it in public.” There was a soothing quality to her voice, but it didn’t erase the angry tension holding his limbs hostage. The thought that she might believe Wycombe made him even more outraged.

“Do you believe him?” he growled.

“Of course not,” she exclaimed as she pulled back from him in surprise.

“Why?” He bit out the question in a fierce tone. He narrowed his gaze at her and saw a blush rise to her cheeks as she looked away from him. “Tell me why you don’t believe him.”

The moment he leaned toward her, she jerked her head back to look at him. The color in her cheeks darkened even more in the shadows of the carriage as she met his gaze. He reached out to touch the pulse beating wildly on the side of her neck without looking away from her.

“Tell me.”

“Because I know when a man desires me,” she whispered. “And you want me.”

Her reply was straightforward and without any hint of seduction. If anything, there was a note of trepidation in her voice. And yet her words burned their way through him. She was right. He did want her. He wanted her in the worst possible way. Alarms were going off inside him, but they were quickly silenced by an overwhelming need to touch her. To prove to her that he wasn’t the man Wycombe alleged him to be. His hand cupped the nape of her neck, and he tugged her against him.

A small gasp escaped her, but she didn’t resist. His mouth brushed over hers in a light caress as he savored the first taste of her. The faintest hint of citrus lingered on her lips from the lemonade she’d had at the opera. It made the sweetness of her mouth slightly tart and even more tempting than he’d expected. He deepened the kiss, enticing her to part her lips beneath his. Seconds later, his tongue slipped its way into the heat of her mouth.

She responded to his caress with practiced skill, but there was an eagerness about her kiss that excited him. This wasn’t just the kiss of a courtesan. This was the delicious taste of desire. She wanted him. It was in every sweet swirl of her tongue. His tongue mated with hers in a blind, feverish need that left him thirsty for more. Suddenly the kiss changed, and she was the one in control. Her mouth demanded and teased his with a skill that was beyond his experience.

With each honeyed stroke of her tongue, she stoked a raging river of fire in his blood that tugged and pulled at him until his cock was thick and hard inside his trousers. A deep groan rumbled out of his chest as his entire body demanded satisfaction. Christ Jesus, he’d never been so close to falling over the edge like this before. A gentle hand touched his thigh then softly brushed across his rigid staff with an expertise that sent him reeling.

What the hell was he doing? He grabbed her hand and roughly shoved it away as he threw himself backward into the leather squabs of the seat. He drank in several gulps of air in an attempt to control the heat still pounding through his limbs. The startled expression on her face made him grimace, but there was another emotion on her face that twisted his gut with regret.

He quickly looked away from her, unable to stomach the humiliation he was certain he’d caused her. Marston’s breaking with her had affected her a great deal more than she ever showed in public, but he’d seen the mortification in those beautiful violet eyes the night they first met. Now he’d rejected her. It
had
to have an effect on her.

How was he supposed to explain why? What was he supposed to tell her that would make her understand that
he
was the problem not her? He closed his eyes against the memory of her kiss. Sweet Jesus, he’d kissed women in his past. Not a great many, but enough to perfect his ability to control his desire while convincing the women he’d kissed that he was a skilled lover.