“Ah,” she cried as she hurriedly pushed the log back in, a few sparks landing on her bare toes.
“Isabella,” a deep voice rumbled from the other side of the door.
Her head snapped up as longing coursed through her. Bash. He was standing outside her door.
For a split second she wondered if he’d heard her but that was silly. She hadn’t actually said any of those thoughts aloud…had she?
“What?” she asked, straightening as she stared at the closed door.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, placing the poker back in the rack of tools. “Just stoking the fire.”
“Cold?”
“I’m fine,” she called back. A bit too loud. “I’m going to bed now.” Stop being concerned, she wanted to say. His worry only made it harder to hold her feelings in. What was he even doing here? Didn’t he know he just made it more difficult to resist her feelings every time he showed concern?
“Do you need—”
“Bash,” she said, her hands coming to her hips. Then she realized she was acting like Abigail and dropped them again. How could she be frustrated with the man who’d helped her so much? “I don’t need a thing. Thank you. Good night.”
“Well, I need something,” he returned.
Her heart throbbed in her ears. She moved closer to the door. “What is it?”
“I need,” he paused. “I need to talk to you.”
“Bash,” the name came out as a whisper, filled with longing and a bit of agony. “Now?”
“Yes,” he said. “Please.”
She sighed as she shook her head. She’d broken nearly every rule that society had set forth for a lady of her standing. But letting a single man into her chamber in the dead of night must be the final one she hadn’t flaunted. “This is a mistake.”
“It isn’t,” he replied.
She opened the door, only sliding it open wide enough to look at him. She was in her night-rail, her hair in a simple braid. She looked…indecent.
But as she gazed out, she realized he was shirtless and only in his breeches. If she were indecent, he was downright…scandalous. “You must be freezing.”
“I’m not. Though to be fair, I’ve had a few glasses of whisky.”
Any thoughts of leaving him in the hall vanished. Without heat, the halls were cool at best. “Come in and stand by the fire, you foolish man.” She tried to ignore the way the sight of his rippling abs did funny things to the butterflies in her stomach. “What’s wrong that you need to talk so late?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He grimaced. “That’s not true. Something’s been wrong my entire life.”
He stopped just in front of her as she softly closed the door. “Your entire life? What do you mean?”
“Earlier when I said I wouldn’t marry you. It’s not you. It’s him.”
Him? Him who? Was this the piece she’d been missing? “All right,” she said, searching her face. “What did he do?”
“He was my father. The Demon Duke.”
Even the name made her shiver.
Chapter Fifteen
Bash rubbed the back of his neck. He was actually going to tell her about his past? The idea brought fear to his heart, but he couldn’t allow Isabella to think that there was something wrong with her.
“The Demon Duke?” she repeated stepping closer. “What kind of name is that?”
He shook his head even as he reached out a hand and hooked her waist, drawing her closer. “You should ask yourself what kind of man gets that name.”
She touched his biceps, her fingers light as they gently stroked his arms. “What kind of man?”
“The kind that beats his son for every small transgression. Spilled your milk, smack in the head, you stupid boy. Broke a vase, lashes across the back. He was relentless and nothing but perfection seemed to satisfy his temper.”
She gasped and then pressed to his front, her body fitting into his as her warmth seeped into his very soul. “How awful. Bash…no boy should grow up like that.”
“He was worse to Mason, I think. Told him regularly that he should be dead. That it would be better if he’d never lived.”
She winced even as her hands tightened on his arms. “He said that to a child?”
Bash closed his eyes even as he tightened his grip around her middle. “The worst part, Mason believed him.”
Her fingers danced up his arms and over his neck, sliding into his hair. “That is terrible.”
“Mason joined the army and practically threw himself in front of a bayonet. Nearly died. It wasn’t until he met Clarissa that he saw the value of his own life.”
“Clarissa?” she asked her fingers massaging his scalp.
Funny. These memories should hurt far more than they did. But with her fingers on his skin all he could feel was a dull ache. The sharp pain of the past had muted under her touch. “Clarissa’s his wife.”
“I’m glad for him, then. That’s how it was for my parents too. My mother’s family was awful. And both her sisters married terrible men. But my mother fell in love, defied her father’s match, and married my father instead. For twenty-two years they were wonderfully happy.”
Bash opened his eyes. “I don’t think that’s how it will be for me.”
“Why not?” Her fingers had slid around to his face and they slid across his cheek, stroking his stubbly skin.
“Because, unlike Mason, my father passed the darkness of his temper on to me. I try to keep it down but…”
Her brows drew together even as her fingers continued dancing. “Really? I’ve never seen you—”
“Isabella,” he cut her off. “It’s there. I just keep it carefully under control. When I was a youth, however, I let that beast out and it was ugly.”
She nodded as her fingers combed through his hair again. “Tell me.”
He shook his head. “I’d hit any man who even looked at me cross-eyed, I nearly died in two fights. I—”
These memories pained him more and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Her thumbs brushed along his brows. “Bash,” she whispered as stroked circles along his temple. “Are we discussing the same man who has rescued my family? Gone out of his way to help a woman he didn’t even know a month ago?”
“I know what you’re thinking. But there is this other man who lives inside me and I have to be careful not to let him out.”
He dropped his forehead to hers. Their noses brushed and then he tilted his chin to kiss her lips. She was achingly perfect in his arms as she kissed him back. She didn’t really understand, not yet. And before he told her, he wanted to capture the sweetness of this moment.
He’d need it to remember her by.
Her mouth clung to his and he deepened the kiss. He could feel the curve of her back underneath her night-rail and he traced his hand up and down her spine, mapping the gentle shape of her.
Then his hands slid to her hips and up her waist. So perfect.
Slanting her mouth open, their tongues danced together. Her arms had wound about his neck and he slid his hands back down, finally getting to trace the curve of her backside. It filled his hands and he felt desire course through him.
In turn, she gasped into his mouth, her hips pressing to his.
Holding her like this, it was so easy to forget the turmoil in his heart. The worry of what he’d become if he succumbed to his feelings for her. He lifted her, just a bit, and one of her legs wrapped about him, opening her apex to him and pressing them even closer together.
He nearly came undone.
Bash lifted her even higher, supporting her weight as her other leg wrapped about him. Without thought, he began to carry her to the bed.
He shouldn’t. This wasn’t why he’d brought them here.
But with her in his arms, he couldn’t think. Didn’t want to.
As he lay her down, his weight settled on hers and they both groaned as his member settled between her legs.
He
r hands had been fluttering over his skin in comfort but now her fingers wound into his hair, pulling on the strands in the most satisfying way.
He pushed deeper against her apex, his breeches and her night rail between them still but the pressure made her shiver in pleasure in his arms.
Damn, he wanted to feel her come undone.
He knew he shouldn’t. He’d come here to explain why he’d not offered for her hand. Instead, he was coming apart in her arms.
She always stripped him of control.
He eased back just to push forward again. She made a little moaning noise next to his ear and he knew it was too late. Perhaps it was too late to untangle himself at all.
Would she hate him if he married her? Not at first of course, but later when she realized that she’d married a beast?
He couldn’t care now. That was a problem for later. Right now, she was tensing in his arms, pushing against him even as she twined her legs tighter about his.
He kissed her again, deeper and fuller and, with a cry, she shattered in his arms.
It was beautiful.
Isabella blinked several times trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind. What had they been discussing?
Why did the weight of his body make her mind stop working?
She wanted him to stay on top of her like this forever. She could fall into a deep sleep curled into his warmth.
“This is why they tell you not to allow men into your room,” she murmured, her voice even sounding heavy and sleepy.
He chuckled, grazing a kiss along a temple. “I want to marry you, Isabella.” But he didn’t sound happy.
That made her eyes pop wide open as her gut began to churn. “I am sensing that a proposal isn’t going to follow those words.”
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “You break down all the emotional barriers I’ve so carefully built. That might work for some men, but for me, I’m afraid it will unleash the temper I’ve so carefully caged.”
She gasped, her hands tightening on his broad shoulders. “But I’ve known you for a month and I’ve never seen you lose your temper.”
“It’s a daily battle,” he whispered, dropping his head to hers again. “What if, one day, I lose?”
Tears pricked at her eyes. She wanted to dismiss his words. To say she didn’t care, or she didn’t believe him, but he believed himself. Deeply. She drew in a breath. “You must decide if you can marry me or not. But for my part, if I had to choose, I would choose you over the alternative.”
“The alternative?” he asked, quirking a brow. “What’s that?”
“Well.” She twisted her mouth. “Currently that involves homelessness and potential starvation but even still…”
His eyes widened. “I would never allow either of those things to happen.”
She let out a long sigh. “I come to you without a dowry, a family name, and a whole passel of problems. If you can accept my flaws, I can accept yours.”
She saw his face shudder and she knew he’d say no. That he would not accept her or give himself.
Giving a push, Isabella scurried out from under him.
“Try to understand. I don’t want to be another one of your problems.”
She let out a short laugh that held no humor. “You must understand that you are. One of my problems.”
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He still lay partially on the bed, his torso lifted up on his arms. He looked beautiful like that. So strong, she wished she could crawl under his weight again.
“It means.” She curled her knees up into her chest. “That you put me in increasing danger each and every time we are alone together. That mystery man that arrived at the club…”
“Don’t call him that,” Bash bit out. “It makes him sound exciting rather than just annoying.”
“He could ruin me. He knows my secret. My uncle, he’s going to strike back in some way. You’re giving them fodder.”
Bash’s eyes closed as his head dipped lower. “Isabella…”
“I think you should leave,” she whispered. She didn’t want him to see her cry, but she could feel the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Because this whole month had been wonderful and terrible, and she didn’t know how much worse it could be. Or better. It was all confusing.
“You’re right, of course. You are in danger. I shouldn’t have—”
“Bash,” his name caught in her throat. “Please leave me be.”
He rose up off the bed. “If that’s what you want. But I think we need to discuss this further tomorrow.”
Isabella shook her head. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She’d made up her mind. As much as Bash was helping her, he was hurting her too. He’d leave her just as mother had and her father.
Unless she left him first.
Chapter Sixteen
Bash sat at his desk in his study once again. Pennington was nearly an hour late. The man wasn’t coming.
Irritation rumbled deep in his throat. The girls needed their home back. How else was he going to get them married?
He rubbed his temples. He’d have to buy a townhouse. Isabella could live there once her sisters married.
He stopped rubbing. He couldn’t do that. Everyone would assume she was his mistress. Besides, he supported her family, he’d forbid her to see other men, he was going to buy her a home. How much more ingrained in her life could he get?
Perhaps Mason was right. He should just marry her.
He’d find a way to keep from becoming the next Demon Duke.
Because as much as he hated the idea of ever hurting her the way he’d been hurt, she needed his protection.
And so did her sisters.
He scrubbed his scalp, and then scraped his fingers down his face. He could marry her and then keep his hands to himself. If he didn’t touch her, he wouldn’t lose control. Ridiculous to think of marrying a woman he wanted this much and then not actually be with her. But it was the only solution he could think of.
The more the idea sat in his head, the better he liked it. She’d be safe, no other man could have her. She’d have his complete protection.
He’d be miserable but that was beside the point.
Getting up, he made his decision. He’d visit the Archbishop of Canterbury. He nearly smiled. He’d not have to purchase a townhome after all. The Carrington sisters would be moving in with him.
It wasn’t as though he lacked room.
On his way out the door, his butler appeared. “Your Grace. Lord Pennington is here to see you.”
He swore under his breath and he stopped in the middle of the room. “By all means, see him in.”
He didn’t bother to retreat behind the desk. He stood exactly where he was, arms crossed over his chest.
Lord Pennington entered, a snarl already on his lips. At least they were about to have an honest conversation. No formalities necessary.
The other man lifted his cane, giving it a shake in Bash’s direction. “You brought them here, didn’t you?”
“Who?” he asked, though he already knew.
Pennington stopped a few feet away, still near the door. “My nieces. You can’t just move girls like that into your home. There are consequences.”
Bash lifted a brow. Isabella had foreseen this. The man was about to threaten ruination. He should have seen it too, but he was done being on his back foot. It was time to take charge of the situation with Lord Pennington. “There is no reason a man can’t move his wife and her sisters into his home.” A lie he’d correct very quickly.
The snarl on Pennington’ss face turned black. “You didn’t.”
He’d not tell the man they weren’t married yet. “I did. And I want that townhouse. It belongs to my wife by right.”
Pennington raised a fist. “You’re lying. And I won’t sell the house to you. The deal is already done. I’ve sold the property to another duke, no less, so not even you can undo it.”
“A duke bought that
property?” It was a nice enough house, but it was located in Cheapside. Not exactly ideal for the most elite in their ranks. Why would a duke want it?
“He did,” the other man sneered. “So it’s gone, and I’ll find a way to exact my price from the rest of the estate. Mark my words. Your supposed marriage won’t protect them.”
Bash shook his head. With startling clarity he knew that this man was Isabella’s tormentor the way his father had been his. He’d never been able to ask his father this question, but he found himself asking Pennington. “Why?”
“Why?” The other man reared back. “I already told you. They didn’t deserve all that and what they had they could have shared with their own family. But my brother-in-law had to cut me out. Treated me worse than a stray dog.”
Bash’s mouth dropped open. He thought of Isabella’s insistence that she give as much as she gave in every bargain. This man had no shame. “They don’t owe you anything.”
The man thumped his cane on the floor. “I married the eldest daughter. The business should have been mine and it damn well will not be yours.” He raised his cane again. “You’re about to pay, duke. Get ready.” Then the man spun and left without a word of goodbye.
Not that Bash cared.
And he didn’t care about the business either. But there was no way, he’d allow Pennington to hurt Isabella or her sisters. Ever.
Isabella woke with a sick feeling that settled deep in her stomach. She’d experienced a fantastic rush last evening followed by a crushing low. She’d also come to a decision.
She had to end her relationship with Bash. He had too much power to hurt her. But how? He was literally the only thing that stood between her sisters and the streets.
Perhaps one of the other men at the club would protect them?
With a wave of her hand she dismissed that idea. They’d want her to go back to dealing at the club.
The mystery man?
But she had no idea who he even was let alone what his motives might be.
Their best bet was to get one of the sisters married quickly.
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