by Tessa Bowen
Was he trying to show her he cared for her, or was it just his extravagant way of apologizing for being a scoundrel? Either way, she was moved. Had she blown it by jumping to conclusions? She chewed her nails the whole ride back to Devoy.
Izzy spied him heading into the house and leapt out of the car before it came to a full stop. She caught up with him in the study just as he was storming over to the sidebar. He poured himself a whiskey and downed it. When he spotted her, he poured another.
“Bloody hell, not you again. I had better make this a double, hadn’t I?”
“I’ve calmed down now.”
He slammed down the glass and brushed past her. “How convenient for you.”
“Can we talk?”
“No more talking. I’m going for a ride. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow me.”
“But it’s getting dark.”
“Yes, with any luck my horse might trip in a rut and throw me hard on my head. I’d like to forget I ever met you.”
The butler quaked in the entry way. “Shall I have James saddle up your horse, Your Grace?”
“No, I’ll do it myself.”
He bent and unlaced his oxfords, allowing the butler to scurry off with them. He yanked on a pair of tall leather boots and thundered toward the stables. He kicked up hay and dust as he snatched a bridle and bit from a hook.
Izzy took four steps for his every one. “Will you just stop a minute—I know what you did for Miss Shiflett.”
“I did it for you, but it’s not enough, is it? Whatever I do, it won’t be enough. You’ve made your opinion of me quite plain. It’s a pity your estimation of me was so easily swayed, we could have continued having a nice time together.”
“Can’t we start over?” Izzy wheezed. “I don’t know how we got here. You were right— I never should have read that article. I know I said stupid stuff, okay? It’s just you got so cold again it made me really angry.”
“It never would have worked anyway. We are from completely different worlds. There is a reason there is a class system. This is what happens when two worlds collide—it ends in complete catastrophe. You’ve done nothing but enrage me since the first day you came here.”
“That isn’t true! What about Venice? You weren’t enraged then—far from it!”
“Venice was a mistake—an error in judgment. I should have known better. I should have thought it through, but you threw yourself at me and I let it go too far.”
“So it was just a mistake—I meant nothing to you!”
“I never said that!” He exploded. “Stop putting words in my mouth!”
“What’s the problem then?”
“You are the problem. This was supposed to be a business arrangement, but I can’t bloody think when I’m around you.”
“Who needs to think? I want to feel. Besides, you said you liked my wild ways.”
“You bring too much commotion into my life. The very reason I hired you to come here was so that I could avoid such entanglements. Archibald thought someone like you would be safe from my roguish ways. You aren’t exactly my usual cup of tea. I don’t know what bloody happened—I guess I’m hopeless at keeping my hands to myself. I got carried away again—carried right off a bloody cliff, it seems. This cannot be—it just can’t. You throw me off course—you and your tiny bloody skirts.”
“You love my tiny skirts. You wanted me to wear knee socks with them, remember?”
“I’m supposed to be spending my time working on my parenting skills. Instead, I’m brawling and bonking with a half-pint lunatic.”
She slammed her small fists into the center of his broad chest. “You love brawling and bonking with me.”
He took her by the wrists and pushed her away. “I didn’t say I didn’t love it, but this has to stop. I mean it, Isabel.”
“So, you are just going to wimp out? That’s it? It’s over—just like that?”
“I told you I would always take care of you. You’ll be looked after.”
“I don’t want to be ‘looked after’ you creepy weirdo. I want to be loved!”
He stared hard at the ground. “I know you do. I’m just not the man for that job. I’ve never been with just one woman. I wouldn’t know how to bloody do it.”
“You just use women up and throw them out. You push them to their limits just like…” she trailed off when his eyes narrowed.
“Just like my father’s stallion, you mean? Ah yes, you would bring that up again. You certainly like to fight dirty, don’t you? You shouldn’t really be complaining. You had a good time in Venice—a very good time if I remember correctly. It’s likely your moans of ecstasy are still reverberating across the cobblestones. ”
The whiskey was speaking for him now. He knew he was being a nasty devil. If he had any decency, the look on her face would have stopped him, but he supposed he was a cad through and through. Besides, she had mentioned the bloody stallion again.
“Millions of women would trade places with you in a heartbeat,” he went on. “Why don’t you call yourself lucky and let’s be done with it.”
“Lucky?”
“You are a clumsy, badly dressed, ill-bred girl who inspired lust in me for a time. Even now, I cannot begin to fathom it. You’re no beauty and you have much to learn about pleasing a man. Perhaps you were a novelty. I’ve never had a commoner in my bed before. It was quite a nice way to spend a long weekend, but it’s over now.”
His last comment had meant to sting and it hit its mark. He expected her to cry. Instead she hauled off and punched him square in the mouth. Trevor reeled back, issuing a curse. He tripped on the bridle and went down in a pile of hay.
Izzy was on him like a rabid dog, howling her outrage. Trevor let her pummel him about the head because he knew he deserved it. He thought of her fighting on the concrete yard at the girl’s home—the mighty Tamika cheering her on. When she struck a blow to his ear it really smarted so he grabbed her fists and pinned them to her sides.
She struggled on top of him, her supple body heaving over his. Her fitted skirt rode up high around her hips, revealing her silky, golden limbs. Heady waves of intense physical need washed over him. His manhood immediately hardened against her. When their eyes met, the Duke’s face flushed scarlet. Damn his tight trousers for giving him away. There was no stopping it now. He had to feel her beneath him, even if just for a minute. He flipped her, pushing her into the hay pile.
He opened his mouth against her cheek, pressing his lips to the soft flesh there. “I’m a nasty drunk, my darling. Please forgive me.”
“You still want me. I can feel it.”
“Of course, I still want you.”
She broke free from his grip and slid her hand down to cup him where he was swollen.
“Isabel, don’t…” he breathed against her ear. Even as his words told her no, his body said yes.
“I want you too,” she whimpered longingly. His hips moved rhythmically against her as she stroked him through his trousers. “I want to be with you.”
“No, we can’t. You hate me, remember? I’m a villainous lout.”
“I don’t care anymore. I want to touch you.”
“You make me crazy, do you know that? I can’t understand it. You are just a girl, just a badly behaved girl. I’m a bloody Duke, you know?
“I don’t give a crap.”
Izzy ground her lips to his and Trevor surrendered all tongue and teeth. He unleashed his passion in an all-consuming, earth-shattering kiss. She hurried to unbutton her blouse, opening the buttons on his shirt as well. They both moaned when their bare flesh met.
“Keep your bloody clothes on, Isabel—I mean it. I won’t make another mistake with you. This entire thing was a terrible blunder on my part. This never should have happened—none of it. You are so very young and inexperienced; I should have realized you’d fall hopelessly in love with me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Wonderful.” She took his hand and placed it under her skir
t. She pressed his palm against the place that burned the hottest for him.
He jerked away. “No! You will not tempt me again with that wet and wondrous place. Your sweet body is like a deadly vortex. If I fall in, I’ll never find my way out again.” He rolled off her, though it pained him to do so. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, then rose and straightened his clothes. “This cannot go on, all this rancor and feverish desire, it just isn’t decent.”
“Since when have you been decent? And you moaned in Venice too. I heard you loud and clear.”
Trevor stole a peek at her. She had bits of hay sticking out of her silly little boy haircut. She looked adorable as she yanked her blouse closed with a noisy huff.
“What was I thinking—you’re practically a child.”
“What does that make you then? A weirdo pervert, that’s what.”
He set his jaw, glowering at her. “Your work here is finished. I will have Archibald book you a flight in the next few days. That will give you enough time to collect yourself and say goodbye to Charlotte. ”
The words chilled her to her bone. Part of her knew he was right, she had to go. They didn’t want the same thing. Either way, she’d surely die of a broken heart.
“You’re sending me away? But how will I appear in public with you?”
Trevor drew a long sigh. “That isn’t your problem anymore, it’s mine. This sham was a flop anyway. They still think I’m a bounder and a cad and I suppose that’s precisely what I am. There is no saving my reputation. I can only hope Charlotte will love me in spite of what I am. I’ll give you all the money you need, more than the agreed amount. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Why bloody not? You’ve certainly earned it fair and square.” The Duke cringed as soon as the words came out. He had not meant to sound crass in the slightest, but now the remark hung heavy in the air like an insult. “Isabel, that’s not what I meant…”
She recoiled when he reached for her. “I hope that horse does throw you. I hope you crack your head wide open. You’re the one who deserves to be broken, not me.”
With those parting words, she left the stables. Numbly, Trevor began to saddle his horse. He would have to ride hard to get her out of his system. Much like his father’s prized stallion, this rare little pony would burn bright in his mind forever.
Chapter Nineteen
A servant had informed Izzy that the Duke expected her at dinner—but she wasn’t about to stick around for that freak show. Instead, she drowned her sorrows at the local pub.
“What’s in this stuff,” she muttered into the bottom of the mug. “Beer isn’t this strong back home.”
“Are you sure you should be here, Miss?” Bryce asked. “If anyone should recognize you…”
“I’m not spending my last night here with him—he friggin’ fired me. I’m on the first flight out of here tomorrow and I wanna have fun. Come on, let’s dance.”
She dragged the attractive gardener onto the dance floor and moved with the reckless abandon of a woman scorned. She knew the Duke would find out that she had gone into the village alone. If she was lucky, the butler would inform him that Bryce had tagged along too.
Let him stew in it.
Izzy spun on the dance floor with loud men and gave into the drunkenness of the rich ale. She laughed as a big bearded man twirled her. “Faster!” she ordered the man. He was overweight and clumsy so she leapt back into Bryce’s arms. “I want to dance all night!”
The confused gardener did his best to steady the whirling dervish, but she was in a frenzied state. “I don’t know, Miss. I think I should take you back...”
“I’m your duchess,” she teased him with a heedless laugh. “I commaaaand you.”
She twined her arms around his neck and spread her fingers wide across his shoulders. He did not feel nearly as good as the Duke. He was skinny instead of broad and muscular. He didn’t smell as good either—sort of like cheap soap. She longed for the Duke’s subtle fragrance—the feel of cashmere and fine cotton against her cheek. How would she ever forget him if every other man paled in comparison?
An iron grip bit down on her arm and she was hauled up against a hard wall. She slammed face first into the Duke’s chest. Even with the room spinning around her, she knew it was him. The tip of her nose was buried deep in expensive fabric and his wonderful scent filled her nostrils.
The gardener’s voice was laced with terror. “Your Grace.”
Izzy squinted up at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take you back.”
He stood stiff and straight, his attire immaculate as usual. His features were drawn but those eyes of his were a bold, electric blue. Izzy knew what that meant, either rage or lust and she knew it wasn’t the latter.
She raised her chin. “I’m not leaving.”
“Your Grace, it is an honor to have you in our humble establishment.” The barkeep called from across the room. “Will you have a drink on us?”
Ever the gentleman, the Duke nodded and hauled Izzy over to the bar. “Perhaps one for the road, it seems my young wife has already had one too many, however.”
The bartender chortled. “Whiskey, isn’t it, Your Grace?”
“You are correct, sir.”
The pub went still. All eyes were fixed on the Duke. He raised his glass to the bartender and then to the crowd. The crowd went wild, cheering and hooting.
The Duke nodded to the barkeep and set the shot glass down on the bar. “Carry on.” His grip tightened on Izzy’s arm. “It’s time to leave.”
“I told you I don’t want to go.”
He loomed over her, virile and menacing. “Do not test me. If you make a scene you will sorely regret it.”
“Are you gonna spank me in front of all these people, Your Grace?”
His nostrils flared and a muscle flexed in his jaw. “You cannot act however you please—they’re all watching us.”
“All you care about is your precious reputation, isn’t it?”
“How dare you use that boy again to provoke me? This is your last night here. Can’t you bloody behave for once?” He dragged her through the crowd and pushed her out onto the cobblestone street. The Bentley was parked curbside, engine running. “Get in the car,” he ordered furiously. “You kept us waiting like fools at the dinner table. Don’t you care about my daughter’s feelings?”
“I’ve already said goodbye to Charlotte. She knows I love her. You’re the reason I have to go in the first place. You got caaaaarrrrried away, remember?”
“Get in the bloody car now, Isabel. Do you really want photos of us arguing in the streets to be released to the public?”
“Fine,” she said between her teeth. Stiffly, she allowed him to hand her into the back seat. When he crawled in next to her, she scooted all the way to the opposite side and crossed her arms protectively over her chest.
The Duke tapped the privacy window and the car sped off into the night. His eyes raked over her. She wore an exceedingly short skirt with pleats running down the front. This one was even shorter than the last. She had topped off the daring look with a pair of tall motorcycle boots and wore a good amount of black eyeliner along with a dark shade of lipstick. It was a sacrilege to cover such sweet features with all that filth. She did not look like herself at all. Had he ruined her—spoiled her youth with his wicked ways?
“You look like a harlot. I’ve never seen you wear makeup before.”
“Young people wear makeup when they go out. Why did you have to drag me out of there, anyway? I was having fun.”
“You certainly were having bloody fun, weren’t you? Your hands were all over him.”
Izzy gave him a triumphant sneer. “Yeah, so? I was planning on showing him some of the things I learned in Professor Barrington’s Sex Manual.”
“Shut your bloody mouth!” he roared.
The Duke was surprised by his own outburst. He had never
known jealousy before. Many women had attempted to inspire the green-eyed monster in him, but he had always been indifferent to their schemes. At best, he found it tedious when his lovers flirted with other men. Rage boiled in the pit of his stomach as she smirked at him with those painted lips. Even as his mind tried to cool his emotions, he could not seem to control his actions. He lunged out of his seat and gripped her around the shoulders. He shook her so hard her teeth rattled.
“In what capacity have you known this boy—this gardener? Has he touched you, as I have touched you?”
He wanted to smack her silly when she laughed at him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weirdo pervert.”
Trevor shoved his hand up her inconsequential skirt, jamming it between her legs. He seized the moist heat of her in his palm. “Has he touched you here?”
Isabel squirmed, clawing at his hand. “Quit it, you sicko freak.”
His fingers pushed past the thin fabric of her panties, searching out the guilty flesh behind the veil. “Tell me, damn you.”
She strained against him, twisting her face away when he dove for her throat. He held her down as she thrashed, opening his mouth against her racing pulse. He suppressed the urge to bite down hard and break the tender skin there. He had never done violence to a woman, and she was the last woman on Earth he would ever wish to hurt. Still, no one had pushed him this far before and now he wondered what sort of damage he was capable of. He had not known (until now) that his temper could soar to such hazardous levels. With a strangled curse he pushed her away, as disgusted with himself as he was with her.
He clenched his eyes shut and massaged his knitted brow. “I’ll fire that boy and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”
She yanked her skirt down. “Well, that’s friggin’ big of you, Your Grace.”
The Duke saw a fresh wave of red as the car pulled up in front of the house. His fingers itched to wipe that twisted smile off her face.
“So, it’s true then,” he seethed. “You went to bed with him?”
“To bed? No—we did it in the green house.”