“I saw the two of you huddled together earlier. You know St. Giles’s tastes in women. You said something to him to make him think Bliss would welcome him in bed, didn’t you?”
“Good Lord, no! Why would I do such a thing?”
“Because you enjoy manipulating people and don’t give a damn about the consequences.”
Her abrupt laugh was mirthless. “This, coming from you? A man who drifts through life without feeling a single thing?”
“I don’t send others to do my dirty work.”
“You’re a man; you don’t have to. We women have to employ whatever means are at our disposal.”
“Deceit, treachery, and pretense?”
“If necessary.” She canted her head to the side to give him a view of the faint bruise on her neck. St. Giles’s mark. “I’m simply making things a bit more interesting.”
Caine’s jaw knotted. “That wasn’t part of the bargain.”
“No one said there wouldn’t be any competition. I couldn’t make this too easy for you, could I?”
“You go too far. You know St. Giles’s reputation.”
“Firsthand.” A baiting smile curled up the corners of her lips. “Jealous?” When he didn’t answer, she grew sullen. “So he’s a little rough—some of us like it rough.”
“Bliss isn’t like you.”
Anger sparked in her eyes. “The chit’s so bloody self-righteous. All her sanctimonious preaching of that women’s equality nonsense. There’s only one way to be a man’s equal: conquer him in bed.”
“She has opinions. Maybe you should form a few that deal with matters above the waist.”
“Oh my, now there’s a laugh. The conscienceless Earl of Hartland cares about women’s issues. What’s next, I wonder? Will you grow a heart, too?”
“Don’t count on it. All I care about is you keeping the hell out of my way so I can get this farce over with.”
She toyed with the sash on her dressing gown. “You were in the lady’s boudoir, I suppose, and that’s how you came about being her knight errant?”
The image of him as a protector of a woman’s virtue, and that woman being Exmoor’s daughter, churned acid in Caine’s stomach. “I was in her room. And if you hadn’t interfered, I might have begun to lay the foundation for her downfall.”
“By bedding her, you mean?”
“Precisely.”
“You’ve already ascertained that she’s a virgin?”
“Yes.”
She eyed him with begrudging admiration. “You work fast, my lord.”
“I have ample motivation.”
“Indeed.” She gazed up at him through her lashes, her expression blatantly sexual. “Well, now that you have been thwarted and you find me to blame, I would be willing to take the lady’s place as punishment.”
“Ask St. Giles,” he told her as he pivoted on his heel and headed for the door. “He enjoys dirty work.”
The sound of a vase crashing against the closed door echoed through the hall.
Nine
Man is an embodied paradox,
A bundle of contradictions.
Charles Caleb Colton
Bliss followed the path that wound along the edge of the cliff, feeling as though she dangled high above the sea, the perception of overhanging the water a frightening but oddly thrilling sensation.
Below, the turquoise water sparkled like a glittering gem in the late morning sun, foam splashing against the jagged rocks as headland after headland rose to the east, creating long shadows that shifted in alien shapes amid the rugged landscape, harsh edges softened by a transparent gray haze, earth and sea and sky all veiled in a flush of pale rose pink, clouds of foliage blurring the craggy peaks of distant promontories.
She breathed the sea-scented air deeply, the cool wind like silk against her skin, stirring her senses, life gradually seeping back into her hazy brain and leaden limbs, the punishment for her overindulgence.
What had come over her last night, that she imbibed so much?
A single word answered the question: Caine.
His unwavering regard had set her nerves on edge. No matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to force him from her mind.
Even in her dreams, she garnered no peace. She had vivid images of him touching her, a hand on her cheek, a large, warm palm resting against her thigh, her body craving more, wanting to arch up against him, but unable to because her limbs were unresponsive.
The lone cry of a solitary falcon pierced the stillness around her, the bird an obsidian speck against the pale blue sky, hanging suspended on invisible gusts of air, its long, curved wings buffeted against the breeze.
The western side of the valley beckoned her—its steep inclines covered with short grass, sea-pinks and thyme, and crowned by a great mass of boulders—to the inland where barren ridges gave way to a profusion of copses and thickets, several deeply cleft combes brimming with trees and purple-crimson flowers.
And in the middle of all this emerged a church spire, reaching a long, tapered finger toward the flawless heavens. Bliss headed in that direction, perhaps thinking to find answers to the questions plaguing her.
A slight movement over the top of the rise caught her eye. A lone figure stood perilously close to the rim of the precipice, wholly absorbed in staring down at the churning fury below.
Bliss slowed her pace as she neared Caine, afraid a sudden movement would startle him and send him over the side. He seemed oblivious, distant. Perhaps it was the desolation of his pose, or the solitude of his surrounding, but something about him was different.
His profile, limned by the morning sun, was bleak, anguished. He was jacketless, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his fawn-colored breeches molding his thighs, his dark brown riding boots scuffed.
His ebony hair was whipped by the breeze and painted with fiery streaks. A virile man in every way, yet never had she seen him look more like a boy, lost and alone.
Stones skittered at her feet, alerting him to her presence.
His head jerked, his gaze slashing in her direction. “What the hell do you want?” His expression was unwelcoming, an edge of desperation sharpening his features.
She returned his gaze steadily, her heart beating an erratic tattoo. He was a man of breathtaking beauty, as wild in this untamed and dangerous place as he was frightening. He seemed to balance on the edge of destruction. It was there in his eyes, as tumultuous as the crashing waves against the shoreline.
He didn’t want her there. And in that moment, Bliss could truly believe he hated her. She knew she should go, leave him to whatever thoughts were troubling him, but the torment etched on his face held her immobile.
“I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He turned away from her, staring back out over the turbulent water. The sea mirrored his mood, imperiling anyone foolish enough to get too close. But what was truly foolish was for her to believe he was capable of any emotions besides those that were self-serving. He had proven countless times that he acted only in his own interest, and would do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted.
Still she moved toward him.
“What is it you want?” he growled when she stepped up beside him.
Bliss looked out over the horizon. The faint glow of early morning light gave way to the sizzling hue of a warm, lemony sun that spread across the landscape like molten gold. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“You fancy the view, do you?” His words were sharp as ice picks. “Perhaps the real reason you’re here is for a repeat performance of yesterday’s skirmish in the grass. Is that it, my lady? Have you decided you like the feel of my mouth on your—”
“Stop it.” She whirled to face him. “Why must you make everything sexual? Not all women desire that you bed them.”
“Oh?” He raised a sardonic brow. “And what is it that you desire? Friendship? Companionship? A man who wouldn’t think of laying a finger on you? Who wouldn’t dare defile the holy vessel you are by shovin
g his rod between your virginal thighs? Do you even have any desires? Or have you always been frigid?”
The barb stung as had been his intention, but it seemed as though he was purposely trying to push her away, hating the fact that anyone, but her most especially, had come upon him at a vulnerable moment.
“There are many things I desire, my lord,” Bliss replied in a hushed voice. “Perhaps if you took a moment to actually speak to me, rather than abuse me, you would know.”
“I know more than you think.”
“And what is it that you think you know? That I’m a frigid, horse-hating witch out to crucify any male who doesn’t subscribe to my way of thinking?”
“No. That you’re opinionated, troublesome, and bloody brazen.” He gritted his teeth, adding, “Strong, self-confident, and brave,” as though the words were torn from him.
The unexpected compliment warmed her. Then he turned abruptly from her. “Get the hell out of here, will you?”
Bliss hesitated and wondered why. He had made his wishes plain enough. She would be foolish to believe Caine needed anyone, especially her.
She turned to leave, but he reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her back. “What are you—”
“Stay.” Frustration glinted in his eyes, and something else. Something dark and speculative. Bliss told herself to refuse him, that he could not be trusted. Yet he compelled her.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you always so difficult?”
“Yes.”
His honest answer softened her, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, but for the first time, no ulterior designs marred his handsome face, but rather an expression that was almost…yearning.
“Do I frighten you?” he asked, searching her eyes for the truth.
“Sometimes.”
He paused, then said, “Perhaps you should be more wary.”
“Are you warning me away, my lord?”
“Are you warned?”
“No.”
That response garnered her a slight, begrudging grin. “You really aren’t like other women, are you?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, wondering if the truth repelled him as it did most men. “My father despairs over that fact. He tries, but he just can’t figure me out. He often regards me as though I’m a baffling problem for which no solution is forthcoming.”
Caine’s face suddenly clouded over, his eyes growing sharp again, angry. “Let’s go,” he said brusquely, taking hold of her hand and pulling her along.
“Where?”
He gave no response, just kept walking, his stride eating up the ground, forcing her to take two steps to his one. Bliss had to dig in her heels to get his attention.
“Stop. Please.”
That penetrating stare settled on her in its usual disconcerting fashion. “What is it?”
Her heart was pounding wildly, but it had little to do with their rapid pace. “Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?”
At that moment, Bliss wasn’t sure it did. She liked the way Caine’s hand felt in hers, and the possessive glint in his eyes. And she liked his rugged, unapologetic ways, how he held nothing back. Much like her.
She knew spending time with him was wrong. There was another woman to consider, and Bliss had never been one who shared well. Perhaps it was due to being an only child. When something was hers, it was hers alone.
But Caine would never belong to any woman. It wasn’t in him to be faithful. Even when a man of his sort married, usually only to beget an heir, he kept a mistress on the side.
But it didn’t matter. She had a full life and didn’t expect that being a wife and mother would ever be a part of it. She existed outside the boundaries, which intimidated most men. Yet a small voice inside her head told her that Caine was not a man who was easily intimidated, if ever.
“I think it’s best if I go on alone from here.” She tried to tug her hand from his, but he held firm, refusing to let go.
“You’re hot.”
“Excuse me?”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and closed the distance between them. Her heart sputtered to a halt as she stared up into his eyes. “You’re perspiring,” he murmured.
“Oh.” She flushed. “Well, I had to practically run—”
“Ssh.” He stepped closer and began to gently dab at her face, which only grew hotter under his scrutiny, the small scrap of material no barrier to the touch of his hand, the warmth of his fingers, the heat of his palm.
All of which slid down to her throat.
Then to her chest.
There he lingered, his gaze almost studious in his observation of her, his ministrations a caress, making breathing difficult.
Finally, she took a shaky step back. “I had best be going.”
His arm slowly lowered. “Why? Do you dislike me that much?”
She should say yes; perhaps that would ward him off. But the words would not come. “This isn’t right.”
“We’re simply taking a walk.” He paused, then said, “Do you think I would force you to do something you didn’t want to do?”
Bliss wished she could honestly say yes. Tell him he was despicable enough to force himself on her. But when he had touched her before, she had instantly responded, her body blossoming under his lips, every fiber of her being desiring more. He had by no means coerced her into doing anything she didn’t want to do.
“No,” she replied softly.
“Then what is there to worry about?”
More things than she could even begin to name. “Perhaps I just wish to be alone.” To salvage whatever pride and virtue she had left before he demolished both.
“I see.” His jaw tightened. “Well, I feel it’s my duty to make sure you arrive at your destination unscathed. These cliffs are dangerous. One slip and you would be fodder for the sharks. I would certainly be stricken were that to happen.”
His sarcasm in the face of her honesty incited her temper. “Really? One would think you’d hasten my departure from this earth.”
“How little you think of me.”
“Forgive my impertinence. I had forgotten you were to be canonized. Caine Ballinger, Patron Saint of the Boorish and Misguided.”
The amused smile that touched the corners of his mouth did not reach his eyes. “You should be a man, my girl. You hold grudges as well as any of us.”
“Not grudges, my lord. Observations.”
“You have plenty of those, too. Was your purpose last night to skin Lynford alive with your tongue? If so, you did an admirable job.”
“I’m surprised you noticed, considering how preoccupied you were.” Blast her rash tongue! Now he would think she cared that he had leered at Lady Fairfax.
He slanted an eyebrow, devilish provocation in the twist of his sensuous lips. “Paying attention, were you? Why is that, I wonder?”
“Perhaps because you were sitting directly across from me. One tends to notice a man with his eyes down a woman’s bodice. One would think you’d be more circumspect.”
“Truly? And why is that?”
“Respect, perhaps?”
“Ah, so now begins my lecture on the rights of women. I was wondering when I would be treated to a lengthy dissertation on the subject. Well, I’m prepared. Slay me, my lady.”
“If I thought it might make a difference, perhaps I’d attempt such a Herculean endeavor.”
“Oh, but it will make a difference. I’m thoroughly infatuated with your brain, you see. It works in such intriguing ways. I specifically enjoy your views on prostitution.” The glint in his dark eyes mocked her as he said, “So tell me, love, would you spread your thighs for me were I to pay you?”
The cutting remark came out of nowhere, and before Bliss could think, she raised her hand to slap him. Caine gripped her wrist, stopping her just short of his face and yanking her up hard against his body, her brea
sts crushed against the muscled planes of his chest.
“I’ve already been treated to that particular remedy. I’d prefer something more original this time around.”
Bliss’s body thrummed with fury even as a curious thrill shot through her at being so close to him. How could she dislike him and yet want to be held by him?
She wrenched her hand from his. “Whatever made me think you had a redeemable bone in your body?”
Something sparked in his eyes before the emotion was banked. “Redeemable, am I? I think I should be flattered you find me worthy. I’m not, however.” Before Bliss could summon a retort, he said, “Now enlighten me, if you will, about what riles you so about men. I find myself reluctantly fascinated by you. Under the spell of this strange infatuation, I’m experiencing an unexpected desire to get to know you better.” He grazed her cheek with his thumb, the gesture feeling like a mark of impending possession, and a fleeting impulse to lean into the warmth of his palm coursed through her.
“I’m a challenge to you. Nothing more.”
“You are a challenge, that’s true. As to being nothing more, you assume too much.” The heat reflected in his gaze scored her. “So tell me, how do you feel about marriage?”
Bliss made no reply, certain he was merely amusing himself at her expense.
“Come now,” he coaxed. “You must have an opinion on this particular subject. You are so outspoken, after all.”
“If you must know,” she said, lifting of her chin, “I find the concept flawed, the institution biased, and the expectations suffocating.”
“Already we are seeing eye to eye. Go on.”
It was an invitation Bliss could not resist. “Marriage has no benefits for women, as long as men are governed by the idea of subservience as a supreme value. Their wives’ very existence is made useless as they are encouraged to spend their days being decoratively futile. Women are expected to live under a glass dome rather than lead any sort of meaningful life.”
Caine’s lips formed into a semblance of a smile. “An impressive recital.” Then he quoted, “‘Women are to be either drudges or toys beneath man, or a sort of angel above him.’ Thomas Henry Huxley, I believe.”
The Pleasure Seekers Page 10