Julie Garwood

by Rebellious Desire

  Milford’s eyes widened and he almost laughed. “And why is that?”

  “Well,” Caroline returned, “there is a possibility that you might be injured. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m not sure but I believe you have just insulted me,” Milford announced.

  He didn’t look like he was upset over that possibility and was now grinning at Caroline. “Ah, we are home at last. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Caroline.”

  “Why?” Caroline asked. “I have just explained that you should stay away from me.”

  Milford rolled his eyes heavenward, deposited Caroline inside the house, and took his leave.

  It took over an hour to locate Bradford. Milford could hardly contain himself when he burst into the gambling hall and spotted his friend sitting at one of the tables with a large sum of money in front of him. Bradford looked bored with the game and with the men who surrounded him.

  Milford made his way over to the table and leaned down to say a few words that no one other than Bradford was able to hear. Bradford’s bored expression vanished. To everyone’s astonishment, he let out a roar of fury, stood up with such quickness that he overturned both his chair and the table, and then, without a word of explanation or a moment’s pause to collect his winnings, followed Milford out the door.

  He listened to Milford recount Caroline’s story and then stated that he was going to see her. “It’s past midnight, Brad. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” Milford argued.

  Bradford shook his head. “Now,” he stated. “Drop me off at Caroline’s and go on home.”

  Milford knew when it was pointless to argue. He agreed, and promised that he would send his carriage back to take Bradford home.

  Deighton opened the door to Bradford’s insistent banging. “It’s good to see you again, your Grace,” the butler announced with a formal bow.

  “Tell Caroline that I wish to speak with her,” Bradford returned.

  Deighton opened his mouth, about to protest that Lady Caroline was probably sound asleep, but the look on the duke’s face changed his mind.

  He nodded and quickly went up the steps.

  Caroline was in bed but was still wide awake. When Deighton announced who was waiting for her downstairs, Caroline immediately guessed why. Milford! He had obviously gone directly to Bradford and told him the confidence she had shared. “Please inform his Grace that I don’t wish to see him,” Caroline told Deighton. “Deighton?” she called as he started down the hall. “Is Father home yet?”

  “Yes,” Deighton answered. “He retired over an hour ago. Did you wish me to wake him?”

  “Heavens no,” Caroline said. “No matter what, Deighton, Father is not to be disturbed.”

  Deighton nodded and continued on his way.

  Caroline shut the door and slowly walked over to the window. The hardwood floor felt cold against her bare feet. She knew that Deighton wouldn’t have an easy time of it getting rid of Bradford, and she fully expected that he would force the butler to try and coax her from her bedroom at least one more time.

  When the knock sounded on her door, Caroline was ready for it. “Tell him to go away, Deighton.”

  The door opened and Bradford filled the space. “I’m not going anywhere.” He stood there, looking so incredibly handsome, and Caroline felt an instant reaction. Her legs began to tremble and she had trouble catching her breath. Her eyes filled with tears and she told herself it was only because she was so exhausted.

  Bradford stared at the vision of loveliness before him while he fought the urge to slam the door shut and take her into his arms.

  Caroline finally found her voice. “You mustn’t be here, Bradford. It isn’t proper.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  Bradford smiled. “You’re going to have to accept that I’m never proper,” he said. His voice sounded like a tender caress. Caroline was hypnotized by it and by his gaze, burning a path from her toes all the way to her head.

  Bradford slowly walked into the room. He closed the door and Caroline heard the click. He had locked them both inside. Caroline’s heart skipped a beat and she tried to summon up some anger and outrage. She couldn’t do either and stood there as still as a statue, waiting for Bradford’s next move.

  “This is either a nightmare or you have completely lost your mind,” Caroline finally said. “Unlock that door and leave, Bradford.”

  “Not yet, my love.” His voice was filled with tenderness. He started toward her and Caroline immediately backed up. Bradford watched her grab her robe and put it on.

  He was mildly surprised that she wasn’t screaming at him. He had treated her poorly and although his motives had been quite respectable, Caroline couldn’t be aware of that. He had publicly scorned her. Why wasn’t she throwing things?

  Caroline continued to stare at him. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind but she wasn’t able to catch a single one. She was, for the first time in her life, completely overwhelmed.

  Bradford stopped his advance when he was directly in front of Caroline. He reached out and gently caressed the side of her face with his hand.

  “Don’t.” It was a whisper of pain. Bradford noticed that his hand shook when he let it drop back to his side.

  She took another step back while Bradford searched his mind for a way to make her react to him. “I’ve missed you, Caroline.”

  Caroline couldn’t believe what she had just heard. She shook her head and started to cry. Bradford took hold of Caroline and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, love. God, I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over against the top of her head. His hands couldn’t quit touching her, stroking and petting and hugging her against him. Caroline continued to cry, accepting the comfort he offered.

  Bradford lifted her chin and used his handkerchief to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. “It’s been hard on me, too,” he admitted in a whisper.

  He placed soft kisses on her forehead and then her nose and finally settled on her mouth. Caroline finally gathered her wits and pulled away.

  “Why has it been hard on you?” she asked.

  Bradford sighed, wishing he could just continue kissing her instead of explaining. He spotted the rocking chair and walked over to it, pulling Caroline with him. When he was settled and comfortable, with Caroline firmly held on his lap, he smiled with contentment and then began, “Promise me that you’ll not interrupt until I have finished.”

  Caroline nodded, her expression solemn. “I thought that someone was after me. When the carriage overturned and I saw that the wheel had been tampered with, I realized that whoever wanted me dead didn’t care who else he took along. I therefore decided to—”

  “Why did you believe that someone was after you?” Caroline interrupted.

  “You promised to wait until I was finished,” Bradford reminded her. “It was my carriage that was tampered with, Caroline, and my coachman who was hit over the head. It was a logical conclusion.”

  “It was an egotistical conclusion,” Caroline interjected.

  Bradford shrugged, thinking to himself that she was probably right. “Regardless, I decided to pretend to end the relationship so that everyone would think I had lost interest in you. That way,” he said, raising his voice when Caroline opened her mouth to protest, “I could be sure that you wouldn’t be used or harmed.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me?” Caroline demanded. She had finally found her temper. Just thinking about the agony he had put her through made her furious.

  Bradford saw the change overtake Caroline and braced himself for her wrath.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Caroline stated in an angry whisper. “I know the reason. It was because you didn’t trust me.” She removed herself from his lap and stood in front of him. “Admit it, Bradford.”

  “Caroline, I only wanted to protect you. If I had confided in you, then you might have told someone and put yourself right in the middle.” Bradford thought he sounded very logical. His argument made perfect se
nse to him.

  Caroline obviously didn’t agree. She glanced about the room, and Bradford thought she might be looking for a weapon.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might have kept the information to myself?” Caroline argued.

  “No,” Bradford admitted. “And even if I had trusted you in the matter, it wouldn’t have worked. You wear your feelings on your face, love, and everyone would have known that you weren’t a woman rejected.”

  Bradford reached out and tried to pull Caroline back into his lap. She eluded his grasp. “Caroline, I only had your best interests at heart.”

  “You mistake my anger, Bradford.” Caroline’s voice had a chill to it. “When will you learn that I’m not like other women? And when will you decide that you can trust me? You can’t possibly form a lasting attachment without trust.”

  She stood before him, a look of disgust on her face. “You are forever grouping me with the ladies of your past. And I am good and sick of it.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re yelling.” Bradford’s mild comment infuriated Caroline. “And if you wake your father and he finds me in here, he’ll demand that I marry you immediately.”

  Caroline let out a gasp and Bradford nodded. “Good,” Bradford remarked. “I have no desire to be wed tomorrow. Saturday is soon enough, what with all the arrangements to be made.”

  Caroline couldn’t hide her astonishment. “Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said?”

  “I have,” Bradford answered. “And I imagine that the entire household is also hearing every word. Now be a good girl and give me the letter. The bed is too close and you are too much of a temptation.”

  “Lord, I trusted Milford,” Caroline muttered in a furious whisper. “I should have known better. If he calls himself your friend, then he’s no better than you are.”

  “The letter, Caroline,” Bradford insisted. He stood up and stretched and then started toward her. “Give me the letter and let me decide what is to be done about it.”

  “You aren’t going to decide anything,” Caroline announced. “And I’m not going to marry you this Saturday or a year from Saturday. You don’t know the meaning of the word love,” she declared. “If you did, you would consider my feelings. And you would trust me.”

  “Caroline, if you say the word trust one more time, I believe I’ll strangle you.”

  The look in Bradford’s eyes told Caroline he was more than capable of doing just that. She backed away from him. “Please leave now. We’ve said enough to each other.”

  “I agree,” Bradford returned. He was frowning now and Caroline thought he really was going to leave. Until he sat down on the edge of the bed and calmly, methodically removed his jacket and then his boots. Then Caroline had to revise her conclusions.

  “What are you doing?” Caroline rushed over to the bed and tried to stop him from removing his socks. “You must leave.”

  “I’m through talking,” Bradford told her. He dropped the second boot and grabbed Caroline. She was suddenly on her back, with Bradford looming over her. “I’ve missed kissing you, Caroline.” And then his lips were clinging to hers, forcing her mouth open. Caroline tried to get him to stop, and her struggle became more insistent when his hips settled against hers and she felt the hardness of him against her.

  Bradford continued to plunder her mouth, draining her of her resistance. She felt so soft against him, so incredibly good. His hand caressed her breast beneath the thin material and he let out a groan of sheer pleasure.

  Caroline wasn’t sure just how it happened, but she was divested of her robe and the buttons of her nightgown were opened before she could summon up enough strength to try and stop Bradford.

  She pushed against him with her hips, heard his moan, and realized that she was probably giving him pleasure instead of pain. Bradford trapped her legs by using his heavy thigh to restrain her and then lazily kissed a path down the column of her throat.

  She fought him with her hands but Bradford wasn’t deterred. His mouth continued the gentle torment with burning insistence. He reached her breast and didn’t hesitate, taking the erect nipple completely into his mouth.

  Caroline again moved her hips against him but the reaction was a sensual, primitive motion she was hardly aware of. She sighed in surrender and arched her back for more.

  His mouth continued to worship one breast as his hand caressed the other. “Bradford!” Caroline whispered, so lost in the erotic feelings he was causing that she could barely speak at all.

  Her nightgown was around her knees and Bradford pushed it farther up as he stroked the sensitive skin. When his hand slid between her legs, Caroline instinctively tried to block his advance. Bradford used his knee to force her legs apart and silenced her protests with another passionate kiss.

  His fingers found her then and Caroline thought she would die from the pleasure he forced on her. His breathing was harsh with desire. “I’ll never get you out of my blood, Caroline. I can feel you tremble, love.” He kissed her again while his fingers stroked the moist softness that beckoned him.

  He sought only to give her pleasure, to show her a portion of the excitement and passion they would share together, and knew he had to stop. He was losing his control.

  Bradford groaned and rolled over onto his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and took several deep breaths and tried to think of something other than the warm body next to him. “We will be married this Saturday.” His voice was harsh but he couldn’t control it. He was angry, but only with himself.

  Caroline felt like she had just been thrown into a snowbank. She only wanted to wrap her arms around Bradford and beg him to continue his lovemaking.

  She knew she had to remove herself from the temptation and quickly scooted off the bed. Her legs were trembling and she had to hold on to the poster. “I don’t understand how you are able to do this to me,” she admitted. Her voice sounded weak. Bradford watched her, saw the confusion in her gaze, and smiled.

  “Your passion matches mine,” he told her. His voice was soft and gruff. “And you aren’t sophisticated enough to control it or use it against me.”

  “Like your other women?” Caroline’s voice was deceptively calm. Bradford wasn’t fooled by it, saw the fire in her eyes. She was thinking about killing him again, he surmised with a sigh. He sat up just in time to catch the boots Caroline threw at him, and tried once more to placate her, thinking to himself that the damnedest things upset her.

  “I haven’t had any other women,” Bradford stated. He meant to continue, to tell her he hadn’t touched any other female since their fateful encounter on the isolated country road. But Caroline turned her back on him while she put on her robe.

  “The letter, please,” he asked again.

  She walked over to her wardrobe and took the letter from its hiding place. Then she slowly walked back over to Bradford and handed it to him.

  There was a knock on the door. Caroline’s eyes widened. “Get off my bed,” she whispered a little frantically. She brushed her hair back from her face and hurried over to the door, her trembling fingers giving her trouble with the lock. She finally managed to open the door to find the Earl of Braxton, dressed in his nightshirt, robe, and slippers, standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

  “Oh, Papa, did we wake you?” Caroline’s voice shook and she thought she was going to faint from embarrassment. She turned and found Bradford right behind her. Both his boots and his jacket were back in place and Caroline said a prayer of thanksgiving for that.

  “Good evening,” Bradford said to her father. His expression was bland, and Caroline realized he wasn’t at all concerned over being found in her bedroom. The man must certainly be used to this sort of thing, she thought with building fury.

  “Good evening?” Caroline echoed with disbelief. “Bradford, is that all you can say?” She gave him a fierce look and then turned back to her father. “Papa, it isn’t at all what it appears. You see, I wouldn’t go downstairs and he”—she
paused to give Bradford a quick glare—“was so stubbornly insistent that—”

  Bradford interrupted her comments by taking hold of her and dragging her to his side. “I will handle this,” he remarked in an arrogant tone. Caroline looked up at him and then back to her father. Poor Papa! His expression had gone from bewildered to furious and was now decidedly confused again.

  “I would appreciate a few minutes of your time, Braxton, if it isn’t an inconvenience at this late hour.”

  The earl gave a curt nod. “Give me a minute to dress,” he stated. “I’ll meet you downstairs directly.”

  “That would be fine, sir,” Bradford said when Caroline’s father continued to stand there. He waited, applying gentle pressure on Caroline’s shoulder, a subtle hint for her to keep silent. The earl started down the hall and Bradford closed the door.

  Caroline was so upset over her father’s reaction, his look of disappointment, that she only wanted to cry. “Bradford!” She sounded like a screeching hen.

  “What the hell have you done to your hair?” Bradford took Caroline into his arms and kissed her.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Caroline said as she pushed against his chest. “You’re getting me off balance again and I won’t have it. We still haven’t settled anything! I haven’t told you how despicable you are. We are completely unsuited to each other. You are—”

  He kissed her again and her puny struggles didn’t deter him at all. Only when her struggles ceased did he soften his mouth, his hold on her. “Caroline, you look terrible. Haven’t you been sleeping? Get into bed now, you need your rest.”

  “Not on your life,” Caroline replied. He had her firmly anchored against his chest and she was speaking into his jacket. “I’m going downstairs with you. God only knows what you’ll say to placate my father. I have to be there to defend myself.”