You do that a great deal, don’t you?”
He swallowed the rest of his wine. “What?”
“Close up into yourself whenever someone tries to peer into your soul. Make a joke of it.”
“If you came out here to lecture me,” he snapped, “don’t bother. Gran has perfected that talent. You can’t possibly compete.”
“I only want to understand.”
“I want to be consumed by a star, but we don’t all get what we want.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Turning for the nearest door into the house, he started to stalk off, but she caught his arm.
“Why are you so angry at your grandmother?” Maria asked.
“I told you-she’s trying to ruin the lives of me and my siblings.”
“By requiring you to marry so you can have children? I thought all lords and ladies were expected to do that. And the five of you are certainly old enough.” Her tone turned teasing. “Some of you are beyond being old enough.”
“Watch it, minx,” he clipped out. “I’m not in the mood for having my nose tweaked tonight.”
“Because of your grandmother, you mean. It’s not just her demand that has you angry, is it? It goes back longer than that.”
Oliver glared at her. “Why do you care? Has she got you fighting her battles for her now?”
“Hardly. She just informed me that I was, and I quote, ‘exactly the sort of woman who would not meet my requirements of a wife.’”
A smile touched his lips at her accurate mimicking of Gran at her most haughty. “I told you she would think that.”
“Yes,” she said dryly. “You both excel at insulting people.”
“One of my many talents.”
“There you go again. Making a joke to avoid talking about what makes you uncomfortable.”
“And what is that?”
“What did your grandmother do, besides giving you an ultimatum about marriage, that has you at daggers drawn?”
Blast it all, would she not leave off? “How do you know she did anything? Perhaps I’m just contrary.”
“You are. But that’s not what has you so angry at her.”
“If you plan to spend the next two weeks asking ridiculous questions that have no answers, then I will pay you to return to London.”
She smiled. “No, you won’t. You need me.”
“True. But since I’m paying for the service you’re providing, I get some say in how it’s rendered. Bedeviling me with questions isn’t part of our bargain.”
“You haven’t paid me anything yet,” she said lightly, “so I should think there’s some leeway in the terms. Especially since I’ve been working hard all evening furthering your cause. I just finished telling your grandmother that I have ‘feelings’ for you, and that I know you have ‘feelings’ for me.”
“You didn’t choke on that lie?” he quipped.
“I do have feelings for you-probably not the sort she meant, though apparently she believed me. But she was suspicious. She’s more astute than you give her credit for. First she accused us of acting a farce, and then, when I denied that, she accused me of thinking to marry you so I could gain a fortune from her down the line.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“I told her she could keep her precious fortune.”
“Did you, indeed? I would have given my right arm to see that.” Maria was proving to be an endless source of amazement. No one ever stood up to Gran-except this American chit, with her naïve beliefs in justice and right and morality.
It amazed him that she’d done it, considering how he’d treated her. No one, not even his siblings, had ever defended him with so little reason. It stirred something that had long lain dead inside him.
His conscience? No, that wasn’t dead; it was nonexistent.
I now understand why you’re determined to thwart her,” Maria went on. “She does have a hateful side.”
He stared down into the goblet. “I suppose you’d see it that way. She sees it as protective.”
“Yet you’re angry at her.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, will you stop harping on that? I’m not angry at Gran.” He stepped closer to her. “And if you intend to stand out here all night and plague me with questions about it, I’ll give you something better to do with your mouth.”
She gazed up at him, perplexed. “I don’t under-“
He cut her off with a kiss. Let her knee him in the groin. Let her slap him. Anything was better than having her ask him about things he didn’t want to discuss. Ever.
But she didn’t kick him. She stayed very, very still, but she didn’t fight him.
He drew back to eye her suspiciously. “Well? Aren’t you going to punch me in the kidney? Pull a knife on me?”
A smile curved her lips. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I kick your shin and march off in a huff, and you don’t have to answer me. But I’m wise to your tricks now, Oliver. I’m not going to stop asking just because-“
He kissed her again, dropping the goblet so he could drag her close and take advantage of her gasp to plunge his tongue into her mouth. Her sweet, silky mouth. So warm and innocent.
So dangerous.
Swiftly, he retreated.
She did not. “What was that…you just did?” she asked in a breathless voice.
Such clear evidence of her arousal made something resonate deep in his chest. And that wasn’t good. “It’s another way of kissing.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip, unable to stop himself. “A very intimate way.”
Maria heard his explanation in a daze. Another way of kissing? There was more than one? Was it supposed to make her pulse jump and her heart thunder? And why had Nathan never done it to her?
Great heavens, Nathan. She had let the villainous Rockton himself kiss her, without a thought for her fiancé!
Still, she wanted to know why kissing was different with Oliver. Was it her? Or was it just that Oliver had experience that the respectable Nathan could never have?
“Do it again,” she blurted out.
Oliver’s eyes, black as the mouth of hell, glittered in the moonlight. “Why?”
“Don’t you want to?” Her heart sank. It was her. She’d been so inept that even a debauched scoundrel like Oliver lacked any urge to kiss her again.
“Of course I want to,” he growled. “But I don’t fancy having your knee shoved in my groin.”
“I won’t hurt you. I just…want to see what it’s like. That’s all.”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “Didn’t your Nathan ever kiss you?”
“Not like that.”
“Never?”
She tipped up her chin. “Not all men are as shamelessly wicked as you.”
The faintest of smiles touched his lips. “True.” Then he kissed her again, taking advantage of her slightly parted lips to thrust his tongue inside her mouth.
And it was glorious, a hundred times more thrilling than any kiss Nathan had ever given her.
You got off on the wrong foot. I merely watched you shove it into your mouth.
Sabrina JeffriesStichwörter: humorous
Oliver reached past her to yank the curtains closed, then moved to sit beside her. She stiffened, but didn’t resist as he looped one arm about her waist to pull her back against his hard body.
“You don’t even know what you’re giving up,” he rasped, “what it’s like to shatter beneath a man’s touch. If you knew, you wouldn’t be so eager to throw that away for the cold comfort of a respectable marriage.”
She closed her eyes against his words, but they were designed to tempt her, and tempt her they did. Last night had only roused her curiosity. Now, with the spicy scent of his cologne in her nostrils and his breath warming her cheek, she wanted to know more, feel more.
His voice lowered to a whisper. “Let me at least show you what you’d be missing.”
She felt rather than saw him shrug off his cloak, leaving him in his shirtsleeves. That sent a wayward thrill down her spine.
“Have you forgotten that I’m deplorably a virgin?” she said, attempting to regain control over the situation.
“No. And you’ll still be one when I’m done.” He pressed his lips against the bit of neck below her bonnet, making her shiver deliciously. Then he untied her bonnet and tossed it onto the opposite seat so he could press a kiss into her hair. “I only want to give you a taste of passion, sweetheart. Enough for you to see what it could be like between us.”
“Oliver…” she protested, turning toward him.
That proved a mistake, for he caught her head in his hands and kissed her. Boldly. Deeply.
And she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. Mercy, how fiercely he kissed! He scarcely allowed her breath as his mouth plundered hers over and over, startling her pulse into a wild gallop. She curled her fingers into his shirt, not sure whether she was trying to hold him closer or push him away.
It didn’t matter. He had full command of her, and he knew it. His large hands held her still as his tongue tangled with hers, and his thumbs slid down to caress her throat with a tenderness at odds with the wild abandon of his kisses.
Now that is a sword,” Freddy said in awe as he went to look at an impressive saber hanging from the hat rack near the door.
“Stay away from it,” she cautioned. “I’m sure it’s sharper than yours.”
As usual, Freddy ignored her. “Just think what I could do with this,” he said as he lifted it off its hook.
“So far I haven’t seen you do anything with a sword, my boy,” Oliver remarked dryly. “Though I shudder to think what your cousin would attempt.”
Maria glared at Oliver, which only made him laugh. Meanwhile, Freddy unsheathed the saber with a flourish.
“Curse it, Freddy, put it back,” Maria ordered.
“What a fine piece of steel.” Freddy swished it through the air. “Even the one Uncle Adam gave me isn’t near so impressive.”
Maria appealed to Oliver. “Do something, for pity’s sake. Make him stop.”
“And get myself skewered for the effort? No, thank you. Let the pup have his fun.”
Freddy cast him a belligerent glance. “You wouldn’t call me a pup if I came at you with this.”
“No, I’d call you insane,” Oliver drawled. “But you’re welcome to try and see what happens.”
Don’t encourage him,” Maria told Oliver.
The door opened suddenly, and Freddy whirled with the sword in hand, knocking a lamp off the desk. As the glass chimney shattered, spilling oil in a wide arc, the wick lit the lot, and fire sprang to life.
Maria jumped back with a cry of alarm while Oliver leaped out of his chair to stamp it out, first with his boots and then with his coat. A string of curses filled the air, most of them Oliver’s, though Freddy got in a few choice ones as the fire licked at his favorite trousers.
When at last Oliver put the flames out and nothing was left but a charred circle on the wood floor, dotted with shards of glass, the three of them turned to the door to find a dark-haired man observing the scene with an expression that gave nothing away.
“If you hoped to catch my attention,” he remarked, “you’ve succeeded.”
“Mr. Pinter, I presume?” Oliver said, tossing his now ruined coat and singed gloves into a nearby rubbish pail. “I hope you’ll forgive us for the dramatic intrusion. I’m Stonevi-“
“I know who you are, my lord,” he interrupted. “It’s what you’re doing here setting fire to my office that I’m not certain of.
Oliver had been kind to her in many respects. He'd kept his word and hired Mr. Pinter. He'd offered to buy her gowns, and he'd treated Freddy with more indulgence than could be expected of any man.
But his actions in the carriage hadn’t been a kindness. Because now she knew exactly what she’d be missing if she married Nathan and settled for his mild kisses.
As she went about the shop selecting gowns, she told herself that maybe passion could develop between two people over time. Maybe once she was married to Nathan, it would come out all right in the end.
Deep inside, however, in the naughty part of her that had reveled in Oliver’s fervent kisses, she knew she was lying to herself. Because right now, the only man she ever wanted to kiss again was Oliver.
She was a French rose growing wild amid the hothouse flowers of London.
Sabrina JeffriesThis is how it should always be. You in my bed...in my arms. Always.
Sabrina JeffriesThat was the trouble with wild roses - they grew under a man's defenses when he wasn't watching.
Sabrina JeffriesHe was thunder and lightning and rain, and she was the earth and flowers that drank up the storm.
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