“You canna use that bluff on me twice, laddie.”
At this moment, Anthony wasn’t sure it had been a bluff. But that she was boldly calling it restored his reason, even if it didn’t completely cool his ardor. He had made a mess of the situation, and if she wasn’t angry, she had every right to be.
His smile came with devastating effect. It was his melting smile. “If now just won’t do, then I’ll come to your room later tonight.”
She pushed away from him, shaking her head. “You’ll no’ get past the door, I promise you that.”
“Leave it unlocked.”
“I’ll no’ do that either.”
“Your window, then.”
Her hazel eyes flared. “So you’ll make me suffocate in my room, locking every window? Why canna you just take no for an answer? Have I no’ made it plain enough for you?”
“It’s the wrong answer, sweetheart, and until it’s the right one. you don’t really expect me to give up, do you? I must think of my reputation, you know.”
She laughed at this, relieving some of her tension. God, but he was incorrigible, utterly lacking in morals, and oh, so tempting. She had never known a man could have such a powerful sexual allure, so strong that even in her saner moments, knowing full well that he was not the man for her, she could still be drawn to him. But whether he was serious or not in this bold pursuit of her, the only way she was going to survive this present encounter was not to take him seriously at all.
In control again, her eyes chiding him, Roslynn said, “Your reputation is precisely what I am thinking of, Sir Anthony.”
“Then I must see if I can’t chase such thoughts away—again.”
“No!”
She gasped as he reached for her, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the railing, her balance precarious at best, and he was grinning at her. She had thought he meant to kiss her again. This she didn’t find amusing at all. The drop behind her was at least eight or nine feet from the top of the railing where she sat to the ground, her feet were dangling off the floor, and she had nothing to grasp hold of if she should lose her balance—except him.
Scowling, she started to jump down, but Anthony stepped closer, and to Roslynn’s horror, he flicked her skirt up to her thighs. Now he moved even closer, forcing her legs to part to accommodate his hips, and he leaned his chest into her, pushing her back, back…
“Hold onto me, or you’re going to fall over.” His voice broke through her panic.
She did, because there was nothing else she could do at the moment. Only he didn’t straighten up so she could regain her balance. He kept her dangling half over the railing, his body her only anchor.
“You’ll have to do better that that, sweetheart. Wrap your arms around my neck.” With one arm he pressed her belly and chest to his. “Now hold tight, because I’m letting go.”
“No, dinna—”
“Shh, sweetheart.” His breath blew into her ear, sending delicious tremors down her back. “If you won’t give in, at least give me this. I need to touch you.”
She caught her breath as she felt a hand on each knee, slowly moving up the outside of her thighs, dragging her dress with them. “Stop! You’re a bloody…let me down!” And then, in a husky whisper, “Anthony.”
He shivered at the way she said his name. But before she could say any more, his hands reached her hips, and with a sharp pull he had their loins pressed tightly together.
Roslynn moaned softly, her head falling back, her limbs gone all buttery. He might as well have entered her, the feeling was that evocative. And now his lips burned a moist trail along the neck she had exposed to him, and Roslynn quite understandably forgot her precarious position.
“I don’t suppose you’ll thank me for intruding, Tony, but Lady Grenfell’s searching for your little Scot, and she’s bound to look in here at any moment.”
With a curse, Anthony glanced at James several feet away, to see him tactfully looking down at the fountain, rather than at them. He lifted Roslynn off the railing, his hands still supporting her hips, and for just a moment more held her like that, savoring the feeling of her in this position, with her legs nearly wrapped around his waist. She was once again in the throes of passion, lips parted, eyes closed, face flushed. He doubted she had even heard James.
“Oh, Christ,” he said as he let her slide slowly to her feet, frustrated now beyond measure. “We’ll have to continue this another time, sweetheart.”
She stepped back, her legs wobbly, and over several long moments he watched her eyes gradually focus, finally widen, and then promptly narrow. Fascinated, Anthony didn’t even see her hand coming, but the palm cracked solidly against his cheek.
“There’ll no’ be another time, mon, for what you’re wanting,” she said quietly, but with enough force that he couldn’t doubt her temper was boiling. “I dinna ken your rules, and you canna be trusted to play fair, so just stay away from me.”
She flounced off in the direction they had been taking, continuing around the room. Anthony didn’t try to follow her. He sat back on the railing, fingering his cheek, and watched her until she was gone from sight.
“I was wondering when that Scot’s temper would surface.” He grinned as James came up beside him.
“I’d say you were let off lightly.”
Anthony’s grin widened. “She didn’t even know you were here.”
“Bragging, brother?”
“Just feeling inordinately pleased, old man.”
“Well, now that you’ve left her in this raging mood, I don’t suppose you’ll mind if I try my luck?”
Anthony’s humor vanished instantly. “Stay away from her, James.”
A blond brow shot up. “Possessive, aren’t we? But I believe those words were hers—to you. And after all, dear boy, you haven’t won her yet.”
Chapter Eleven
Justin Warton proved such delightful company that Roslynn’s temper was able to subside completely in less time than she could have hoped for, considering what a foul temper she had when it was fully aroused. And she had been furious, the more so when Frances found her just coming out of the conservatory and promptly whisked her upstairs to repair her coiffure, which she hadn’t even realized had fallen into such a telling state of disarray. Horrid man to leave her looking as if she had just been manhandled, which she had been, which forced her to suffer through a stern lecture from Frances, albeit deserved.
She knew she had been foolish, knew she had taken a terrible risk. She didn’t need to be told so with such sterling clarity. But she couldn’t take exception to Frances’ anger in her behalf, since it was based on love and concern. She could only be more furious with herself, for upsetting Frances and for knowing better in the first place.
After a long harangue about Sir Anthony’s sordid reputation, Frances had concluded with, “You simply must never find yourself alone with him again, Ros, especially since you are so obviously attracted to him.”
“I never said that, Frances.”
“You didn’t have to. I saw it the moment Regina brought Sir Anthony forward to be introduced to us. And I saw the way he looked at you too. Kissing you in the conservatory was one thing, but you know it would’t have stopped there if you had been in a less conspicuous place.”
Roslynn didn’t volunteer that it had gone a step beyond kissing, even in that public place, or that she wasn’t at all sure that it might not have gone much, much further if Anthony hadn’t fortunately come to his senses and released her. She certainly hadn’t been the one to break away, nor had she even tried, once she was held firmly in his embrace.
“You should have told me you had met him at the Crandal ball.” Frances’ tone suddenly turned hurtful. “I could have warned you sooner, for it’s obvious he’s marked you for his next conquest.”
“Frances, Frances, you didn’t have to warn me. I’d already heard the gossip about him at the ball. I knew what a disreputable rake he is.”
“And yet you sti
ll let him lead you off.”
“I told you, he tricked me!” Roslynn cried in exasperation, then promptly regretted her tone. “I’m sorry, but you must stop worrying. I’ve told him to stay away from me.”
Frances pursed her lips, her finely arched brows drawn tightly together. “Do you think your wishes will make the least bit of difference to him? Men like him don’t accept rejection, Ros. For some absurd reason, they only become more intrigued the harder the chase. And that one, Sir Anthony, is the worst of the lot, simply because he’s the handsomest, the most sought after, and the most confirmed bachelor in the Realm. He’ll never marry, Ros. He’ll never settle for one woman. And why should he when hundreds scheme and plot to win his favor?”
“Frances, you’re forgetting how unique my circumstances are. I’m not just another hopeful debutante on the marriage mart. I’ve got a goal to accomplish, and I’m not going to let anything upset it. The consequences are too abhorrent to me, not to mention dangerous, if I should fail to quickly secure a marriage.”
Frances sighed and gave a little apologetic smile. “You’re right, I was forgetting that. But you will be careful, Ros? A man like Malory, with his experience, could have you seduced before you even know it. I suppose we can just be grateful that that brother of his, just as unprincipled, hasn’t set his eye on you too.”
Roslynn was to remember those words later, but when they returned downstairs and Justin Warton was quick to invite them to share the buffet with him, she was still simmering over her own naiveté with Anthony Malory to give his brother a single thought. And then Justin took her mind off her near catastrophe and she enjoyed herself for a while. He was so charming, his lovely indigo eyes so admiring, that she seriously found herself considering him as a likely candidate to add to her list, despite his young age. At least he was older than she, and he certainly made no attempt to conceal his interest in her, which was gratifying, especially after she had had to be so bold as to seek out her other candidates. And still had to, it seemed, since Sir Artemus had yet to approach her tonight, even though she knew he had seen her.
Unfortunately, Lady Warton broke up their threesome soon after they had eaten, complaining of a headache, and Justin was forced to see her home, though he extracted a promise from Roslynn that she would ride with him in the hunt planned for the next morning.
“Well, that was an easy conquest,” Frances remarked after Justin had left with his mother.
“Do you think so?” Roslynn grinned. “He is rather nice, isn’t he?”
“And so very upstanding. I’ve heard nothing but good things—”
“Frances, you needn’t laud his sterling qualities. If you’ve noticed, Sir Anthony appears to have left. You can stop worrying.”
Frances squeezed her hand. “Very well. I know you’ve got the sense to distinguish the good from the bad. And as long as Lord Warton has quit for the evening, shouldn’t you be furthering your acquaintance with Sir Artemus while you have the opportunity?”
“Indeed.” Roslynn sighed. “And I also need to find Lady Eden for the information she promised me. The sooner my list is narrowed down, the better.”
But Regina Eden was having a lively conversation with several of her neighbors that Roslynn was loath to interrupt, and she found Sir Artemus embroiled in a game of whist, several such games having started up after dinner.
Roslynn moved near one of the open French doors to wait until she could catch Regina’s attention, taking advantage of what little breeze wafted in off the vast parkland. As uncomfortably warm as the drawing room had become, she would have loved to step outside but didn’t dare, not after the last time she had thought to escape to a garden had precipitated her first meeting with Sir Anthony. And just because she hadn’t seen him since she left him in the conservatory didn’t mean he wasn’t still on the premises somewhere.
She almost thought to go and drag Frances outside with her just so she could cool off a bit when she was startled by a movement behind her.
“Enjoying yourself, Lady Roslynn?”
She turned around warily, recognizing James Malory’s voice and afraid that Anthony would be with him, as before. She relaxed, however, to see he was alone, his golden hair slightly ruffled, obviously having just come in from outside. But her respite lasted only a few seconds, for the way he was pointedly staring at her, waiting for her answer, reminded her that this was the brother she had decided could be dangerous in his dealings, and nothing about him tonight changed that opinion, though she was now inclined to feel that Anthony was the more dangerous, at least to her.
She nodded slightly. “Yes, your niece has made me feel right at home, though I must say I was surprised to learn that she was your niece. She would be the daughter of one of your older brothers, I suppose?”
“Our only sister, Melissa,” he corrected. “But she died when Regan was just a baby still, so my brothers and I had the pleasure of raising her.”
Roslynn had the distinct impression that four young men really had found it a pleasure to raise their only sister’s child, which made this particular Malory seem less threatening in her mind until he suggested, “Care for a stroll down to the lake?”
It was unexpected and instantly put her on guard. “No, thank you.”
“Then just outside? You look like you could use a breath of fresh air.”
“Actually, I’m rather chilled and was just thinking of fetching a shawl.”
James chuckled at such a lame excuse. “My dear girl, that fine film of moisture on your brow says otherwise. Come along. You needn’t be afraid of me, you know. I’m quite harmless in all respects.”
When his hand gripped her elbow to escort her outside, Roslynn felt strangely as if this had happened before, earlier, that she was being rushed along the exact same course, leading to disaster. Only she had no chance to drag James to a halt as she had done with Anthony when he tried to escort her from the room. Just two steps and they were outside, and it was accomplished before she could even think to yank away, nor did he give her a chance to. Instead of walking on, he pulled her to the side of the door and pressed her back against the wall, and his mouth smothered her small cry of alarm.
It was done so swiftly, so cleverly, that Roslynn had had no opportunity to anticipate the trap or get out of it. Nor did she dare make any loud protests now, or she would draw the attention of the occupants inside, only several feet away on the other side of the wall, and she couldn’t afford the gossip that that would entail. The most she could do was try to push him away from her, but it was as if she were squeezed in between two walls, his big, solid chest was so unmovable. And then she no longer tried. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears, because of the danger of discovery, she told herself, but actually, she found James Malory’s kiss so reminiscent of his brother’s that it could have been Anthony kissing her instead. Only it wasn’t, and she held onto that thought for dear life.
“You and your brother must take lessons from each other,” she hissed the moment he lifted his head.
James laughed despite his disappointment. “Do you think so, little Scot? Now why would you say that?”
She blushed furiously to have as much as admitted that Anthony had also kissed her. Defensively, she snapped, “Was that your idea of being harmless?”
“I lied,” he said with a blatant lack of contrition.
“Indeed! Now let me pass, Lord Malory.”
He moved back only enough to separate their bodies, not enough to allow her to slip by him. “Don’t be angry, sweet. You can’t blame a man for trying, though I now concede that Tony has bested me this time. It’s devilish unfair that you happened to meet him first.”
“What the devil are you blathering about?” But she gasped, afraid she knew. “If you two have placed wagers on me—”
“Never think so, dear girl. It’s no more than sibling rivalry, and the simple fact that we share the same tastes, he and I.” A finger came up to brush back the damp curls at her temple, and fo
r a moment, Roslynn was mesmerized by intense green eyes. “You are incredibly lovely, you know incredibly. Which makes it bloody difficult to accept defeat.” His voice lowered to a husky pitch suddenly. “I could have made your blood sing, sweet lass. Are you quite certain you prefer Tony?”
Roslynn shook herself mentally, fighting off the potent spell he was weaving with little effort, yet with such ruthless success. Good God, these Malorys were devastating at their craft of seduction.
Stiffly, praying he would take her words to heart, she insisted, “I never said I preferred your brother, but that doesn’t mean I prefer you to him either. The fact is, Lord Malory, I don’t want either of you. Now will you let me pass, or must I throw caution to the winds and call for help?”
He stepped back, bowing slightly, a thoroughly maddening grin turning up his sensual lips. “I can’t let you do that, dear lady. Being found out here alone with me would quite ruin you.”
“Which you should have considered before you dragged me out here!” she retorted and promptly deserted him with all speed.
And as Anthony had done earlier, James watched her flounce away, only he didn’t have Anthony’s sense of eventual success to buoy his spirits. Quite the contrary. As much as he would have liked to win this particular lady, and no doubt could if he really set his mind to it, her reaction to his kiss was only a muted echo of her reaction to Anthony’s. He hadn’t left her in a state of bemusement, as his brother so obviously had. Her choice was clear, even if she was not yet aware she had made it. But if it were anyone else but Tony…
Damn, but she was a fine piece. His sense of humor returned, laced with irony. She had managed to stir him, and now he was sorely in need of a wench, which meant he would have to take himself off to the nearest village or else annoy Regan by seducing one of her neighbors. So there was nothing for it but to take himself off when he would rather not. Hell and fire, and a bloody pox on love at first sight!
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