It seemed an eternity before she spoke. “They don’t make me feel the way you do.”
Her words were like paraffin tossed onto flames. His desire flared, and he started forward, but then her words in Belinda’s drawing room came back to him, reminding him that what he wanted so badly to do was the one thing he could not do. It took all he had, but he stopped. He drew a deep breath, leashed his lust, and used his last question of the day. “How do I make you feel, Linnet?”
“You know,” she said, her voice almost indiscernible over the music. “What you said.”
“Not good enough. I want you to say it.”
“Aroused.” Her tongue touched her lips. “You make me feel aroused.”
Oh, God. The tension was becoming unbearable. He lowered his gaze along that splendid body and back up again, torturing himself, knowing that what he was about to do could backfire utterly. “I think that’s something you’ll have to prove.”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I’m aroused, too, Linnet. So aroused, I can barely think, I can barely breathe, and all I want in this world is to walk up those steps, haul you into my arms, and kiss you again. But I’ll be damned before I’ll give you cause to say I took your kiss against your will. So, that means you have two choices. The first choice is the proper one: Turn around, go back inside, and leave me alone.”
Her chin lifted a notch. “And the second one?”
“You can come down those steps, Lioness, walk over here, and kiss me.”
Chapter 13
Linnet’s heart slammed against her ribs, a jolt of pure panic. “I can’t do that,” she gasped.
“Why not?”
She cast a glance over her shoulder, then looked at him again. “If anyone came out on the terrace, we’d be seen.”
She watched in dismay as he backed up three paces, stepped between two of the enormous boxwood pillars that lined the wall of the house, and vanished from view.
She stared at the shadowy recess into which he had slipped, torn by the agony of a decision she shouldn’t even be trying to make. The obvious thing to do, the one thing a well-bred girl could do in these circumstances, was go back inside.
Linnet didn’t move.
He was the most provoking man, the most aggravating man she’d ever known. That kiss in the pagoda had seemed like the most shameful, ruinous thing that had ever happened to her, and yet, that wasn’t what she felt right now. That kiss had stained her reputation and wrecked her life, but for no reason that made any sense whatsoever, she wondered what it would be like to risk ruin again, to go down those steps, slide in between those boxwoods, and walk into his arms so that he could kiss her again. How would it feel?
Her body responded at once, before her mind could even consider. Arousal stirred, opening inside her—vibrant and quivering with life. Slowly, she walked down the steps and moved toward the recess where he’d vanished from view. With one last glance over her shoulder, she followed him.
The sharp scent of the boxwood and the mellower one of bay rum filled her nostrils, but she could see nothing at first. The darkness was almost total. She was a scant three feet away from him, but all she could make out was the glimmer of white from his shirt and waistcoat. She blinked, and after a moment, her eyes adjusted, enabling her to discern his tall form leaning against the brick wall behind him, and when she blinked again, she saw his face. His expression was grave, his eyes like pitch.
She waited, standing in front of him, her insides shaking, and she had no idea what to do next.
“Well, go on,” he said when she didn’t move. “We don’t have much time before someone comes out here looking for you.” His voice sounded amiable, almost friendly, and yet, she knew that wasn’t what he felt. She sensed the tension in him. It was palpable in the confined space and short distance between them. “Best if you kiss me quick.”
Her heart seemed to stop for a second, then it began to hammer in her chest. She moved closer, then closer still, until their bodies were almost touching. The quivering inside her intensified as she rose on her toes and brought her mouth up to his. By the time she was a hairsbreadth away, her anticipation was so acute, it felt like pain.
She pressed her lips to his, and pleasure pierced her at once, pleasure so sweet, so acute and unexpected, she groaned against his mouth.
He stiffened, straightening away from the wall, and for a moment, she thought he was going to embrace her or push her away, but he did neither. Instead, with her lips barely touching his, he stilled again, and she realized he was waiting for her to do something more.
She didn’t know quite what that something was, for this light brush of lips was where her experience with kissing ended, but she did know she wasn’t ready to pull back, so she moved her mouth experimentally against his. It was a tentative, exploring caress, and as she did, the arousal within her grew hotter. Her hand came up to touch his cheek.
His response was immediate, as if her touch was just what he’d been waiting for. He slid an arm around her, and his fingertips pressed the base of her spine, urging her even closer. She did, and when her breasts brushed his chest, the pleasure spread through all her limbs, bringing a strange, boneless sensation that made her knees go weak.
Without conscious direction, her arms came up to wrap around his neck. She wanted to be even closer, and he seemed to know it, for his arm tightened around her waist, and his other arm came around her shoulders, embracing her totally, just as he he’d done in Newport. Her head was spinning, her knees were weak, her body was on fire, just like in Newport. And yet, it all felt so different. Whether it was because this time she’d come willingly into his embrace, or because there were no witnesses, or because he was no longer a stranger to her, Linnet didn’t know, but she felt no shock, no shame, and no outrage. All she felt was a deepening excitement, and a need for even more.
He tilted his head, and his mouth opened over hers. His tongue touched her closed lips as if he wanted her to part them, and when she did, she tasted port. She had no time to savor it, however, for his tongue entered her mouth, and she jerked, jolted by the sudden, electrifying shock. A man’s tongue in her mouth? Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that.
As if sensing her surprise, he eased back, but she pursued, duplicating his move, her tongue touching his. The move seemed to ignite something inside him, for his embrace tightened even more, lifting her almost off the ground, bringing her against him so fully that she could feel the hard length of his body everywhere he pressed against her. He seemed especially hard where his hips were pressed to hers, and the intimacy of it shocked her. She broke the kiss with a gasp, lowering her arms, flattening her palms against his shoulders.
He eased her to the ground at once and released her, his arms falling away and his body pulling back from hers to flatten against the wall behind him. She ought to have been relieved, for her body was in turmoil, her head spinning like a top, and her breathing hard and quick, but she didn’t feel relieved by his withdrawal. Quite the opposite. She felt bereft. She felt frustrated. She felt . . . incomplete.
His breathing was every bit as ragged as hers, stirring the hair at her temple. The satin lapels of his dinner jacket felt slick against her palms as she slid her hands down from his shoulders. His chest was like a wall against her palms, and even as she recalled how easily he had carried her across a meadow and up a hill, she knew as she had not known yesterday, that he wasn’t the only one with power.
It was a heady feeling.
After a few moments, she looked up, and in the darkened shadows, she watched a faint smile curve his mouth. “Damned if I’m not the luckiest chap in the world,” he murmured, his voice a bit unsteady. “How many men get struck by lightning twice?”
She didn’t have time to think of a response.
“Linnet?” Her mother’s voice floated to where they stood between the boxwoods.
She felt Jack’s hand tighten at her waist, and she watched him press a finger to
his lips. She nodded in understanding, and he lowered his hand, leaned out to peek at the terrace nearby, then straightened again to look at her. “She’s gone back in. Follow her, quick.”
Linnet felt a jolt of panic, and her hand flew to her mouth. “I can’t.”
For some reason, his smile widened. “Don’t worry,” he said as he pulled her hand down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You don’t look debauched. Good thing for both of us my valet shaved me just before dinner.”
She had no idea what shaving had to do with it, and she couldn’t seem to gather her dazed senses enough to figure it out. There wasn’t time for contemplations on the subject anyway, for Jack was already shoving her out from between the boxwoods. She turned toward the terrace, took a deep breath, and went up the steps, her heart still pounding, her pulses still racing, her lips still tingling. Despite his reassurance, she felt debauched, and she had no idea how to hide what seemed so obvious.
But unless she became a very good actress in very short order, being found out was a distinct possibility, so Linnet squared her shoulders, notched up her chin, and pasted on the most serene expression she could manage.
“Ah, so you’ve changed your mind and come back in after all.” Helen’s voice was light, but Linnet knew those words were for the benefit of anyone who might have noted the length of her absence from the drawing room.
“I like standing out on the terrace,” she replied, but she wasn’t quite able to meet her mother’s gaze as she sat down beside her on the settee. “It’s a beautiful evening.”
A glance around the drawing room told her the other ladies hadn’t seemed to notice her return, and conversation didn’t pause, but when her mother leaned close to her and spoke again, Linnet knew she wasn’t off the hook just yet. “Just where were you, young lady?”
Linnet turned, giving her mother what she hoped was a convincing enough expression of bewilderment as she prepared to tell the most blatant lie of her life. “I don’t know what you mean. I was right below you.”
“Were you, indeed?” Helen murmured.
Linnet felt a shimmer of guilt and looked away before her mother could see it. “Of course,” she lied again, her guilt deepening as she reminded herself that she wasn’t the only one affected by her ruined reputation. Her scandal reflected on her family, too.
“You shouldn’t go off the terrace,” Helen said after a moment.
Still, there was little Helen could do but accept her explanation. No one had seen her with Jack, no harm had been done, and though her pulses were still racing, and she still felt wild and wanton, Jack must have been right that there was no outward sign of what had just happened, for none of the women in the room were staring at her.
But that conclusion had just crossed her mind when her gaze paused at Lady Trubridge, and she felt a sudden jolt of apprehension. She didn’t know quite why, for the marchioness wasn’t even looking at her. She was talking with a group of ladies on the other side of the room. But then, as if she sensed Linnet’s gaze, she turned her head, and her shrewd and thoughtful gaze rested on Linnet. Not a flicker of emotion showed on her face, but Linnet’s apprehension deepened into fear.
Working to keep her expression as neutral as possible, she looked away, drew in a slow, deep, steadying breath, and reminded herself that not only her reputation, but her entire future was at stake.
This wasn’t Newport. Tonight, she had not been the innocent recipient of a man’s advances. Instead, she had chosen his kiss, she had welcomed it, she had reveled in it. And it had been glorious. But it couldn’t happen again, not unless she agreed to marry him. And two wild, wanton kisses or not, marrying Jack Featherstone was a choice Linnet just wasn’t ready to make.
UNLIKE LINNET, WHO’D had to go straight back to the drawing room, Jack had the luxury of taking a bit of time before rejoining the men. A good thing, too, for lust was thrumming through his body, and despite several minutes lingering by the side door into the house, he found it damned difficult to douse the flame. As he reentered the dining room, he could only pray he’d managed to don the nonchalant air of a man who’d been out for an innocent little walk.
When he’d dared her to come down those steps and kiss him, he hadn’t expected her to do it. He’d hoped she might, for Linnet wasn’t any more inclined to back down from challenges than he was. But he’d also known what she was risking to take up a dare like the one he’d thrown down, so he’d stood in that shadowy recess, hardly willing to hope or even breathe. When she’d appeared in front of him, her gold hair and white dress glinting in the dim light, exhilaration and excitement had risen in him at once, like fireworks shooting skyward, and it had taken all the will he had to stand there and wait for her to close that last bit of distance. The wait had been agony.
When at last, she’d pressed her lips to his so sweetly, so innocently, he’d nearly gone to his knees, and the carnal sound of her moan against his mouth had been almost more than he could bear. But when she’d touched him, that had brought the lightning down, sending the lust he was working so hard to contain coursing through every cell and nerve of his body, and he’d been unable to hold back another second.
He might have ravished her then and there if she hadn’t brought him back to earth. Appreciating that fact, however, didn’t have quite the dampening effect it ought to have. Rather, it started his mind thinking of ravishment rather than self-control.
Jack’s imagination wasn’t allowed to go too far down that particular road, however, before Nick stood up, indicating it was time to rejoin the ladies, and he supposed he ought to be grateful for that. As he followed the others out of the dining room, he reminded himself of what was at stake. He had to keep his head, for if he didn’t, Linnet would be the one to pay the price.
Fate, however, didn’t seem willing to trust Linnet’s welfare solely to Jack’s willpower, for the moment they walked into the drawing room, he saw Belinda’s gaze hone in on him, and he was reminded of an alert cat sitting outside a mousehole, ready to pounce. A moment later, when he saw her walk over to her husband, he suspected his absence from the dining room was the topic of their discussion, and when she started in his direction a moment later, he knew it for certain.
“Jack,” she said as she passed him. “A word.”
She made for an unoccupied part of the room, and he followed, glad that where she was leading him was where the liquor cabinet was located, for if she brought up the topic he feared she was about to bring up, he was going to need a second glass of port.
She denied his offer to pour her a sherry, and he reached for the port decanter instead, but he’d barely removed the crystal stopper before she spoke.
“Did you approach Miss Holland when she was alone on the terrace?”
He paused a second before answering. “Not exactly.”
“She was out of the drawing room ten minutes, about the same amount of time you were out of the dining room. What happened?”
He could not allow Belinda to think any of this was Linnet’s fault. “Nothing happened,” he said, but he didn’t look at her as he said it. Instead, he kept his attention on his task, but he could feel her gaze boring into him as he poured his port, and her next words told him that though Linnet might be cleared of any wrongdoing, he was not going to escape tonight’s events unscathed.
“I’ve always known you were wild, Jack, wild, daring, and a bit of a hellion,” she said, her voice low beside him. “But in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never known you to lie to me.”
Jack inhaled a sharp breath, feeling the pain of her words like a knife in his chest. “Are you saying I’m like Charles?” he asked, setting aside the decanter and forcing himself to look at her.
“If you’re not, then don’t lie to me. When Miss Holland was outside, did you speak to her?”
“Yes.”
“Her mother went out on the terrace to fetch her, but came back in without her. The girl wasn’t on the terrace, was she? She was with you.”
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br /> “It wasn’t some sort of planned rendezvous, if that’s what you’re implying. I’d gone outside for a bit of fresh air, and so had she, and we just happened to . . . encounter each other.”
“Jack!” She glanced around, then back at him. “You cannot detain a young woman when she’s unaccompanied, especially at night, and I shouldn’t even have to tell you that. What happened with Sir Roger? His sudden departure had something to do with you, didn’t it?”
The abrupt shift in the subject was a bit of a relief. “I daresay it did.”
“What happened?”
He told her, and she stared at him in horror. “You carried off a girl—an unmarried girl—over your shoulder in front of two witnesses?” she whispered. “And made her have a picnic with you alone in the countryside? Are you mad?”
He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “That’s quite possible.”
“Did you force your attentions on her as you did in Newport?”
He grimaced, but the question, though brutal, was a fair one. “No.” He swallowed his port in one draught and looked into her eyes. “Neither yesterday, nor tonight.”
“Well, we can be grateful for that, at least. And let us hope Sir Roger and his sister haven’t told all their friends what they witnessed. As for you, this sort of behavior is beyond the pale. It must stop.”
“You’re right, of course. And I take full responsibility for everything that’s happened.”
“As you should. You are a man of the world. She is a young lady and far more innocent than you.”
“I know, I know. It’s just—” He paused, staring helplessly at his sister-in-law. “I want her, Belinda.”
“Your lust,” she said in withering accents, “is not relevant. We are not talking about a cancan dancer or an actress.”
He shook his head, impatient. “No, I know. That’s not what I mean. I mean, I really want her. This isn’t just about doing the honorable thing. It’s much more than that.”
Catch a Falling Heiress: An American Heiress in London Page 22