Suzi Love (24 page)

Jumping with fright, she gave a little scream and turned her face towards him but he gentled her with a caressing hand on the exposed nape of her neck.

“Sweetheart, it’s only me. I needed to see you. To apologise.”

She didn’t speak but continued to watch him over her shoulder with wide eyes ringed with red. She hiccoughed and swiped a hand over her eyes, smearing tears across her cheeks. While he’d attempted to numb his guilt with brandy and considered dulling his desire with a look alike redhead, she’d been grieving. Alone and vulnerable.

Staring up at him with her green eyes so wounded and accusing, she reminded him of an injured animal caught in a trap. The last thing he ever wanted was to break her amazing spirit. Her feisty nature was the best part of this wondrous woman. The exciting part that called to the like part of him that he’d suppressed for his family’s sake.

She rolled over and the shoulder of her gown slid down her arm to expose creamy skin with an adorable sprinkle of freckles wandering across her collarbone. He wanted to put his tongue there and he wanted to tug the rest of the gown away and press his mouth to all her hidden parts. She sniffed the air between them. “Are you drunk again?”

He snorted. “Possibly. Probably. Over imbibing seems to have become a bad habit since I met you.” But foxed or not, he couldn’t sit beside her smelling the scent of her and yearning to inch her neckline just a little lower and still retain control of his sanity. He swallowed hard. Grabbing up her robe, he placed it in her hand.

“Could you put this on please? You’re too much of a temptation.”

For the first time, she showed a tiny fragile smile. “Really?”

Smiling now, he teased, “As if you don’t know what you do to me.”

She wriggled off the bed, causing her unbuttoned gown to slide further down her arm. With a low growl, he dropped his head to his knees. She turned her back to him and asked, “Could you unbutton the rest please. My hair tangled. I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

He came to his feet with his hand hovering inches away from her bare back, wanting to touch her so badly that he could hardly draw breath. One small touch was a luxury. Her skin felt like velvet, her hair smelt of lemons and he wanted her. With a desperation that made him shake. Talking would be safe. Somewhat safer, anyway.

“Becca, I want you to know … ”

One button.

He could do this.

Control, that’s all it took. “I meant no offence when I asked you to marry me.”

“Demanded,” she corrected.

“All right, I admit I spoke a little forcefully.”

Two buttons.

“A little?”

“Perhaps too much.”

Three buttons.

“But good heavens woman, I nearly lost ten years of my life when I saw you lying there tonight.” He gripped the edges of her gown and leaned in to nuzzle her hair, his voice thickening. “I don’t give a damn about the niceties. I can’t have you in danger like that anymore.”

He turned her to face him and, still gripping her upper arms, pressed his lips to hers, briefly, hard. “Do you hear me this time, Becca? No more. A man can only stand so much. You’ll move in with me. At Martin House.”

“I’m not leaving my family.”

“You are the most immovable woman in creation Rebecca Jamison, do you know that?”

“It may have been mentioned a time or two in my family.” Trying for a light jest she smiled at him. “But surely in your travels you’ve met someone more pertinacious than me?”

“You’ll not bamboozle me with vocabulary. Pertinacious is a real word, not one of your creations. And no, I’ve never met anyone as stubbornly persistent as you.”

She eyed him as if debating how much to concede in order to get what she wanted. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty. What if I were to say you could sit in on all our family meetings. Hear all our new ideas.”

“Not good enough.”

“What about if I let you court me for real this time. Not just for appearances.”

He was fully aware of her motives, but he wanted the outcome regardless of what he had to do to achieve it. Being closer to her meant he could see to it that she never risked her life like that again. But he’d also drive the wilful little minx to the same limits she pushed him.

“And what else? I need more incentive than sitting in on Jamison family meetings that I already know the outcome of.”

Crossing his arms he leaned against her dresser in a relaxed pose. “Winchester, my brothers, my friends, and I have taken control of all the meetings from now on in any case. And in society’s eyes, I’m already courting you.”

She let her gown drop further down her shoulders. Even when she wasn’t trying to be a coquette, she enticed him more than any experienced woman. When she was practicing her newly discovered feminine charms on him, he was helpless to resist.

Yet, he held onto his control and waited. Years of ballroom flirting had taught him that a predator needed infinite patience to wait for his prey to be lured to him. Then, and only then, would he pounce. Let Becca think she was seducing him into doing what she wanted whilst he was letting her stroll into his snare.

The kiss his seducer brushed to his lips tantalised with a sweet mixture of innocence and beguilement.

His breathing shortened and his body leapt to attention.

So much for pretending he could retain control and remain unmoved. Beautiful Becca only had to glance down and she’d understand the effect she had on him physically. Only had to look into his eyes to see the desire he couldn’t hide.

The little vixen knew exactly what she was stirring.

One of those capable little hands wandered down his body, skimmed across his waist and dipped lower. Grabbing hold of it before she could reach her obvious destination, he moaned. “God, what are you doing to me?”

“I want to let you see how good things could be between us.”

She’d tied him up in knots wanting to do the right thing, the correct thing. While at the same time, he longed to throw her on the floor without preface and plunge into her as deeply as he could.

“Believe me, I know how good it will be between us, sweetheart. I lie awake every night thinking of that very thing.”

Those magnificent eyes widened. “You do?” Gone was the innocent trying to play at experience. The naked longing in her voice told him she wanted him the same way he wanted her, desperately, totally. His response was crucial. No more mistakes.

“My love, I imagine myself poised above you while we kiss and then thrusting hard, deep inside your snug passage, your body welcoming mine. Embracing it and holding it.” He laughed. “I imagine myself grasping scandal in both hands and revelling in the ride we’ll enjoy together.”

She gasped and her mouth dropped open. Her hands flitted downward between them to rest on her lower abdomen. “I imagine you sitting astride my legs, with me pressed tightly against that part of you that aches for me.” He glanced down to where one hand was now circling in a restless motion on the outside of her skirt. “I’ll move against you there until you can bear it no longer and you push yourself down over me in a frenzy. You’ll be so wet, so ready for me, that I’ll slide up into you so that you cry out when you feel me touch your womb.”

His hand covered hers to stop the movement of hers and halt the frantic circling that had scrunched her gown into a ball between her legs. Her breath came in small pants. The smell of womanly arousal scented the air, tightening Cayle’s body even further. His erection hardened and throbbed and his balls drew up in readiness for the explosion that was so close he could almost taste it.

“So why … why are we waiting?” Becca clutched her gown again. “I’m offering you what you want. What we both want.”

It took all his willpower to pull away.

The time wasn’t right and he was now determined in what he wanted. And how he’d get it. With the greatest of difficulty, he extracted himself from their embrace and hurried towards the door. Still in control, still able to resist temptation. And his greatest temptation and greatest torment was Becca.

His hand touched the doorknob as the vixen spoke, her words flowing over his heightened senses and shooting his entire body to full alert.

“Cayle, turn around.”

Helpless to resist her soft-spoken command, he turned. His breath caught in his throat. He shuddered down to his toes. She was naked. She was perfect. Everything he’d ever desired in a woman.

His first sight of her without clothes robbed him of breath.

When he’d brought her to orgasm in her drawing room, he hadn’t disrobed her but only exposed the necessary parts. Her breasts were large enough for him to scoop them up in his hands and fondle them. Her narrow waist fanned out to wider, feminine hips and tapered down to legs that despite her small size were long enough to wrap his waist as he thrust into her. Dear God, he wanted her. He could think of nothing but claiming that luscious body. Finally, he managed to drag his eyes to hers. She looked apprehensive. Worried. She was staring at him as if awaiting approval. Intrepid Becca stood before him with all her raw vulnerability exposed and he wouldn’t tell her anything but the absolute truth.

If he were a wiser or even a kinder man, he’d reject her once and for all. Walk away and leave her untouched. She deserved better than him. She deserved a man whose heart hadn’t hardened and one who truly believed in love. Could declare his love openly, without terror.

But right now, in her bedroom and with her standing so still and silent before him, he could only want. And need. “You’re so beautiful. So very beautiful. And you cannot imagine how much I want you.” He sucked in a gulp of air.

“But I am a little drunk, a little overwhelmed, and a hell of a lot out of control.”

She walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders, looking up at his with imploring eyes. “Cayle, I want you.”

“I know, my love, I know.” He dropped his forehead onto her head, trying to draw the strength to depart. “Forgive me, sweetheart, but tonight I must leave before we both make a mistake. I couldn’t bear to see regret in your eyes tomorrow.

“I won’t regret it, Cayle. I want it. You. Now.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“When I become your lover, Becca, and make no mistake, I’ll have you beneath me very, very soon, it will be on my terms. At my leisure. And not on the floor of your bedroom where your family may walk in.”

It was gratifying to hear her little gasp as she remembered where they were. At least he knew that his practical little planner had been as caught up in their passion as he’d been and forgotten where she was. He took her face in both hands to kiss her gently.

“If you’re sure, Becca, really sure, ask me again tomorrow after we’ve both had time to think about the consequences of such an action. A woman can only offer her virginity once. To one man. I’m not certain I’m the right man for that.”

“I am, Cayle. Very certain. You’re the man I want.”

He gave a deep sigh of regret and released her. Once again, he turned back to the door, forcing himself to walk towards it.

“Tomorrow night we’re attending Lady Moreland’s annual ball. I will call here at eight for you. Goodnight.”

The next morning, the Duke of Sherwyn was eager to leave Mayfair, despite how little slumber he’d managed to snatch. After leaving Becca, he’d been restless, unable to sleep, so he’d used the time to scratch notes to his friends. In the grey hours before dawn, he’d dispatched footmen to deliver them in the hope of catching all three compatriots before they began their busy days. As he rode to Devon’s house, the streets filled with deliverymen on lorries loaded with foodstuffs bound for the markets. Housemaids swept front steps before their masters and mistresses ventured out for the day. Mothers carried baskets home to feed hungry children.

Life was carrying on as any other hectic day in overcrowded London and yet, for him, things seemed different. Everything had changed. For the first time in years, he felt lighthearted, as if an enormous weight had lifted from his chest. He could breathe again. Becca had done that, brought him back to life. He knew that walking away the evening before had been the right thing to do, the noble thing. And yet, it had also been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Her scent still filled his nostrils, visions of her made his head spin and her words rang in his ears. She’d wanted him. The same way he desired her. And when she came to him, and his possessive male side believed she’d come soon, he’d know she wanted him and not any lover with whom she’d conduct a scientific experiment. And that day, or night, would be the happiest of his life.

It took a moment for that thought to filter through his senses and for him to comprehend what it meant. They weren’t simply friends, he and Becca. They were more, so much more. She was the only woman he’d ever wanted enough to be prepared to give up everything for. He’d find another way, anything to appease Julia, however he’d never give up Becca. It was time to stare down old meaningless scandals in both their lives and embrace the freedom that could follow. They’d be released from the web of gossip that entangled them and tied their families to conventional rules. None of it mattered. Nothing except finding a way to have it all, everything he’d ever desired from life.

• • •

At Devon’s house, Cayle flung himself out of the saddle and threw his reins to the waiting groom and raced up the steps.

As he rapped the knocker, he grinned. Then he laughed aloud in total abandon. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. Throwing his arms wide, he practiced saying aloud the first words in the romantic string of vocabulary he now realised Becca yearned for. She needed to hear that he was sincere before she would further commit herself to him. His proposal had been a dreadful insult.

Strangely enough, it didn’t perturb him as he imagined it would if he ever got close enough to another person to admit this feeling. The words came easier to his mind than he’d have believed possible a month ago. They flowed off his tongue. Soon, he promised himself, he’d say them to the person who deserved to hear them. A neighbouring window opened so the inhabitants could peer at Devon’s doorstep to see who was making an unseemly racket at this hour, in their sedate street. He smiled. He waved. For once in his life, he welcomed the tittle-tattle, the gossip, the scandal and all that went with it. Anything was an improvement over the half-life he’d been living of late.