Simply Forbidden (16 page)

His blue eyes narrowed and a sense of satisfaction blossomed within her as his voice rose.

“Miss Ross. I swore never to marry and never to have a child and the fact that I am contemplating doing
both
says more about how I feel about you than you could ever imagine!”

She looked at him through her eyelashes. “I don’t believe you.”

He shot to his feet, reached across the table and picked her up, marched over to the bed, and dropped her on it. She pretended to struggle while he rucked up her skirts and wedged his wide shoulders between her thighs.

“Believe this.”

His mouth descended over her sex and he licked at her clit, his tongue swirling and stabbing between her folds until she was wet and arching up against him. He drew back, his mouth wet with her juices, his eyes intent. “I want to lick your cunt every day, slide my fingers deep, and make you come so hard you scream my name and beg for my cock. Does that sound like I am marrying you for your breeding capabilities?”

She gasped as he slid two fingers inside her and worked them back and forth. His intent gaze flicked between her face
and his fingers. She tried to reach for him, to dig her nails into his skin so that he would feel what he was doing to her. He added two more fingers and used the palm of his hand to torment her clit as he slammed into her.

“Gabriel …” She moaned.

He stopped, his fingers embedded deep and his palm cupping her mound. “Tell me you believe me now. Tell me this is what you want.”

His mouth returned to add to her torment and she could no longer stop her climax flooding through her. He held himself still as she arched against his hand, waited for her to go still, and then licked her clit again.

She tried to pull away from his tongue but there was nowhere for her to go. Without removing his fingers from inside her, he unbuttoned his breeches with his left hand and climbed carefully onto the bed. He straddled her so that his head was parallel with hers. She grabbed at his hair and pulled it hard.

“Marriage isn’t just about sex either, though, is it? Just because we do this well together doesn’t mean we should get married.”

He gazed down at her. “You can do without this?” He reached down to grasp his cock and knelt up until he was able to brush the swollen wet crown against her lips. “You think another man can make you feel like this?”

She clung to his arm. “I don’t know! It’s possible.”

His eyes widened and he bent to kiss her, his mouth possessing hers so completely that she could do nothing but accept him and kiss him back. When he pulled away she was shaking and so was he.

“I can’t do without that, Lisette. I can’t think of anyone but you. I want it all.”

She studied him carefully and tried to control her ragged breathing. “I’m not eloping with you.”

He sucked in a breath and then stared at her until all traces
of emotion were removed from his face. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take me back to London.”

He rolled away from her and rebuttoned his breeches, walked across to the abandoned dinner table, and poured himself another glass of red wine. What was he supposed to do now? Abandon his plan or allow it to unfold as he’d wanted it to, without the surety of her marrying him at the end of it?

He had no choice. In truth, there was already the sound of a commotion in the hall below. He walked across to the fireplace and turned to face the door as it flew open to reveal Christian Delornay, a pistol in his hand and a murderous expression on his face.

“Swanfield, you bastard.”

“Ah, Mr. Delornay-Ross. Please come in and shut the door.”

An explosion of petticoats on the bed meant that Lisette had righted herself.

“Christian, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, I believe.” Christian nodded at his twin. “After I’ve taken care of this blaggard, of course.”

Gabriel scowled. “I’m not fighting you.”

Christian uncocked the pistol. “That’s all right, because you’re not enough of a gentleman to waste a bullet on. I’d rather just shoot you in the back like the coward you are.”

“I’m no coward either. Unlike you, I’m simply concerned for your sister’s reputation. Fighting a duel over her will scarcely help.”

“Strange how you’ve suddenly thought about that,” Christian sneered. “Now that you’ve been caught abducting her.”

Gabriel took a step toward Delornay. “I want to marry her, not ruin her. Can’t the pair of you get that into your thick heads?”

Lisette moved past him to stand beside her twin. “We are not stupid, sir!”

He met her gaze and held it. “I know that.” He bowed to Christian and forced out the words. “She wants to go home. Perhaps it would be better if you took her.”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.” Christian jerked his chin at Lisette. “Gather your belongings, twin.”

Gabriel tensed as Lisette stepped between them. “Will you excuse us for a moment, Lord Swanfield?”

“Of course. I’ll be down in the taproom if you need me.” It took all his courage to walk away from her, to leave her to make her choice, to trust that somehow she’d choose him despite his clumsy handling of the whole affair.

Lisette watched Gabriel leave, his expression bleak, his eyes so sad than she wanted to cry. She swallowed hard as Christian smiled at her.

“Shall we go?”

She studied his face. “How did you know that I was here?”

He shrugged. “By a process of elimination. After you disappeared, I talked to everyone who knew Lord Swanfield, including his groom, and discovered his plans. Then I borrowed one of Father’s best horses and set off after you.”

“Then how am I supposed to go back with you?”

“We’ll take Lord Swanfield’s coach and leave him my horse.” Christian looked around the room. “Do you have anything at all to bring?”

Lisette shook her head. “I’m not coming.”

Christian halted by the door. “What?”

“I’d just decided to marry him after all. I was in the middle of making him declare his feelings to me when you walked in.” She swallowed hard. “And now he’s being all ridiculously noble and offering to let me go with you because he thinks I meant what I said.”

Christian frowned. “Lis, he’s a man. If you told him you didn’t want him, of course he’ll believe you.”

“But it’s supposed to be part of the game.”

“What game?”

“The game of love.”

Christian looked disgusted. “God, I’ll never understand women and their stupid games. If you want him, stay with him. If you don’t, come home with me, now.”

“I think I’ll stay then.”

Christian sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She smiled tremulously at him. “I am.”

He drew her into a hug and kissed her cheek. “Make very sure you mean it this time, because I don’t think Swanfield is a man to play too many games with, do you?”

“I’m sure.” She kissed his forehead. “Now go home and tell everyone that everything will be all right.”

He bowed. “I’m not telling anyone anything. This is one scandal I’ll try to forget. Take care, Lis.”

She watched him leave and sat down on the bed. After half an hour ticked by and her anticipation turned to irritation, a huge yawn shook through her. She stripped off her clothes and went to bed. She didn’t have the energy to wait for Gabriel to return—if he ever did. Perhaps she should simply go to sleep and await his reaction to her presence in the morning.

G
abriel sat outside the inn and slowly smoked his second cig-arillo. It was far too cold to be out, but he’d lived through far worse in Spain. He blew out a cloud of smoke and watched the wind whip it away across the barren fields. A tankard of ale sat at his elbow, and he forced himself to drink it coughing when he realized the helpful landlord had added a tot of brandy.

He’d like to get drunk now, to submerge himself in misery and try and forget what a fool he’d been. But he wasn’t a pleasant drunk; he became far too violent, as if the alcohol unleashed the most secret of his fears and horrors and made him see them in other innocent faces. So he wouldn’t drink any more than the tankard of ale and then he’d go to bed.

Alone.

With a sigh, he stubbed out his cigarillo on the stone wall and headed back up the stairs. At least Lisette and her obnoxious twin should be halfway back to London by now.

The inn was quieter as well, the taproom deserted, the fire banked for the night with peat. He’d almost expected Hodges
to come and inquire as to what was going on, but the landlord had proved remarkably discreet, no doubt in hope of a suitable financial addition to his bill.

Gabriel opened the door to his bedchamber and breathed in the subtle scent of Lisette’s rose perfume. The candles had been extinguished, so he undressed in front of the fire and headed for bed. It wasn’t until he tried to pull back the covers that he discovered it was already occupied.

With all the care he could muster, he eased between the sheets and gently rolled Lisette onto her back. He could barely make out the shape of her features, so he bent his head and traced the outline of her nose with his finger, his heart beating so hard he thought it might burst.

He felt the brush of her eyelashes against the back of his hand as she opened her eyes. He kissed her forehead.

“You stayed.”

Her fingers drifted across his unshaven cheek and settled by his jaw. “Yes, but only for tonight.”

“What does that mean?” he whispered. He was almost too afraid to speak in case he broke the spell of her presence and found he was dreaming.

“I still want you to take me back to London.”

He sighed against her throat, felt her swallow. “Then why not go with your brother?”

“Because I want you to take me.”

“So that your father can shoot me in cold blood?”

“No, so that you can ask for my hand in marriage properly and we can organize a small wedding with my family around me.”

He went still as her words sunk in. “You will marry me?”

She tugged at his hair. “Didn’t I just say so?”

He drew her into his arms and simply held her as a series of totally unacceptable emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
He swallowed convulsively and buried his face into the crook of her neck. Her hand settled over his head and she stroked his hair.

After a long while, he kissed her throat, her face, her lips, savoring each inch of satiny skin, tasting and tempting her to respond to him. She opened her mouth and let his tongue inside to lazily stroke hers. His hands roamed over her body, stopping to appreciate the smallness of her waist, the curve of her hip, the tight buds of her nipples as he sucked them into his mouth.

She moved restlessly beneath him, her hips lifting into each ragged pull of his mouth on her breasts. Her hands settled on his upper arms, her fingernails biting into his muscled flesh. He lifted himself off her long enough to change their positions and slide his legs between hers. His cock slid against her belly, a thick, urgent reminder of his desire for her. But he was in no hurry. He slid his hand between her thighs and discovered her sex, already open to him, already wet and willing to take him deep inside.

“Gabriel …” She moaned his name as he touched her slick folds and circled her clit. “Please …”

He positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and felt himself being swallowed by her cunt, gave her more and then more until he was tightly sheathed within her. With a groan, he slid his hands under her buttocks and drew her into each stroke, her legs and feet wrapped around him like a vine and holding him even closer.

He kept his thrusts even and steady, wanting to feel her passion build, wanting to watch her come for him while he was buried deep inside. She moved with him as if they’d been lovers for all eternity, as if there was no other man for her but him. And he wanted that more than he wanted to breathe. She shifted against him and the angle of his cock changed, making her feel even tighter.

She started to walk her feet up the sides of his body, and his cock reacted, making him piston his hips even harder as the vise of her sex narrowed and narrowed until he could only fuck and breathe and feel her, only keep doing it even though the pleasure was edged with the fear that if he lost himself inside her he would never be able to be alone again. She climaxed with a scream and he hung on as his cock was squeezed so hard he thought it was screaming alongside her.

When he was finally able to come, his pulses were forced out, each so exquisitely painful he felt every one like a jolt. He rolled onto his back, bringing Lisette with him, unwilling to lose the connection and the sense of completeness. His need for her defeated his fear of the dark and the terror of his dreams. Would he ever be able to let her go?

He opened his eyes and stared out into the darkness as coldness formed in his gut. This was exactly why he’d chosen to leash his passions and use the pleasure house only for physical release. The thought of contaminating anyone with the darkness within him appalled him. Lisette sighed and relaxed against him, one palm splayed over his heart.

He forced himself to think of the possible child, reminded himself that he was getting married primarily for that reason and that he was at peace with his decision. His cock finally slid free of Lisette. Gabriel held her in his arms and prepared himself for another sleepless night. There was nothing he could do but carry on. His ability to walk away from her had been lost long ago. All that was left was to protect her, not only from society’s critical gaze but from himself.

The next morning, Lisette awoke to find Gabriel already dressed and sitting by the window contemplating the grayness of the morning sky. She stretched and yawned, felt the unaccustomed ache of her muscles and the tenderness between her legs
where Gabriel had penetrated her. She turned on her side to observe his profile and wondered why he didn’t look more pleased with himself.

“Is something wrong?”

He turned fully to face her. “Good morning, Miss Ross. I hope you slept well?”

She sat up and clutched the covers to her chest. “I am Miss Ross now? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all, Miss Ross. I was just contemplating the awful-ness of the weather.”

She studied him for a long moment. “You don’t seem very pleased to see me.”

His guarded expression softened slightly. “Trust me, I am pleased. I thought I’d ruined my chances with you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? You don’t strike me as a man who takes defeat lightly. I expect you are as tenacious as a bull when you don’t get your own way. I assumed you’d just try something else.”

He walked across to the table and held out a chair. “Will you join me for breakfast?”

Lisette wrapped the sheet around herself and waddled across to the table. “You are being remarkably polite this morning.”

“I thought you might appreciate being treated with the courtesy and respect you deserve as my future wife.”

She peered at him suspiciously, but there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice or on his face. “You agree to take me back to London and marry me in a proper church then?”

He inclined his head. “I would be honored to do so.”

“You wouldn’t prefer to continue on to Scotland?”

“As you have agreed to marry me, the least I can do is let you decide the details.”

Lisette ate a piece of bacon and chewed it thoroughly. Lord Swanfield was saying all the right things, but somehow he
seemed different. She put down her knife. “Why are you being like this?”

He stared at her. “Like what?”

“So … nice.”

His smile widened. “You would prefer me to shout and rage at you?”

“At least then I know your passions are engaged.”

“That is certainly an unusual way to look at it.” He continued to eat his breakfast.

Determined to match his calm demeanor, Lisette buttered some toast and added marmalade. “Perhaps I should be the angry one.”

“Why?” His attention instantly refocused on her. “You are not thinking of changing your mind again, are you?”

She smiled at him sweetly. “My brother says that men do not appreciate the games women play, is that true?”

“It depends what games they are.”

“Have you not noticed that women often say the opposite of what they mean?”

He frowned. “You mean like you saying you didn’t want to marry me?”

“I didn’t want to marry you.”

His smile this time was a challenge and full of male smugness. “Yes, you did.”

“Not in the beginning.”

“That’s true.” He finished his coffee and put his cup down. “We’ll set off in about an hour if that is convenient for you. I sent your clothes down to the kitchen to be pressed. They’ll bring them up with your bathwater.” He stood up and bowed. “I’m going down to the stables to check that the horses are all fit for the return journey. I’ll be back in a while.”

Lisette looked up at him. If women were infuriating for playing games, men were far worse for ignoring them. She
managed a smile. “You’re not going to leave in a huff without me then?”

“Of course not.”

“Because maybe I have it wrong and it is you who is having doubts about marrying me.” She bit her lip. “Sometimes when a man gets what he wants, it is no longer of value to him.”

He came around the table and knelt at her feet, took both of her hands in his strong grasp. This close, his eyes looked very blue. “I’m not going to change my mind; I’m not the sort of man who would bed you and then abandon you like that other sorry bastard. Once I’ve given my word, I honor it.” He brought her hands to his lips and lightly kissed them. “We will marry as soon as I can arrange it.”

She watched him leave, but the knot of doubt inside her refused to untangle. She knew he meant what he said and that he would keep his promises to her. But what of the passion they had shared the night before? Where did that figure in his talk of duty and honor? She always sensed a struggle in him between his strong physical desires and his need to behave like the perfect gentleman. It was a struggle she’d seen firsthand at the pleasure house.

A knock at the door made her sit up and conjure a smile as her bathwater was delivered to the hip bath Gabriel had already used by the fire. There was nothing more she could do now other than get ready for her trip back to London. Once she was reunited with her family, she would surely be able to make sense of her muddled feelings.

She sighed as one of the maids helped her pile her hair up on top of her head to keep it out of the way of the water. It would take far too long to dry if they were leaving in an hour. She stepped into the bath and sank into its warm, rose-scented depths and closed her eyes, willing her uncomfortable feelings away. Whatever happened next, she was going home, and if she
changed her mind, even Lord Swanfield would fail against the combined might of her mother and father’s support.

She smiled to herself as she began washing her arms with the sea sponge the maid had handed her. If she married Gabriel, she would be a countess and would take precedence over her older sister, Marguerite, who was about to marry the younger son of a marquis. The thought made her want to giggle—not that Marguerite would care, of course; she wasn’t like that. Now all they needed was for Christian to marry a duchess and their family would
have
to be treated with respect.

Lisette’s gaze fell on the towel warming by the fire and her newly pressed clothes. If she was to be ready to leave in less than an hour, and face her future, she needed to stop daydreaming and get dressed.

“We’re almost there, Miss Ross.”

Gabriel’s soft voice woke Lisette from her sleep. Somehow during the long drive she had ended up sitting on his lap, her head nestled comfortably against his broad shoulder, his arm anchoring her at the waist.

“Good,” she murmured.

“We are going to your father’s house. I hope that is acceptable?”

She opened her eyes then and he allowed her to sit up. “Of course. What day is it?”

“It is Saturday.”

“Then Emily must already have arrived.”

“Your sister, Emily?”

“Yes.” She frowned at him. “You made me miss her arrival.”

“If I hadn’t listened to you and turned around, you would be missing a lot more than one day of her visit. Scotland is a long way.”

“I know.” She repressed a shiver. “And a lot colder.”

His lips brushed her ear and her shiver turned into something else entirely. “I would keep you warm.”

She disentangled herself from his arms and moved across to the other seat. He looked his usual composed self, his black hair unruffled, not a crease in his clothing and no signs of fatigue on his face. In contrast, Lisette felt like a wet rag. Her hair was a mess, her new dress covered in marks she feared would never come out, and her half boots scuffed.

He raised his eyebrows. “What is wrong now?”

“Why should anything be wrong?”

“You are scowling at me.”

“Because you look as neat as a pin, and I look like one of the women who ply their trade down at the docks.”

“Hardly that.” His gaze moved over her. “But I have seen you look better.”

“Maybe I’d look better if you hadn’t dragged me into your carriage and held me down on the floor with your
booted foot
.”

He reached forward and patted her knee, caught her hand in his. “I’ve said I’m sorry for that. Just because you are nervous about your reception from your parents, there is no need to snipe at me.”

“I am not nervous!”

“Of course you are. I’m nervous myself.”