“You…you are?” She hadn’t expected quite that reaction.
Nor the way he was holding her now, leaning into her, his hand stroking her waist with a gossamer touch that made her blood race. His mouth brushed her ear. “Oh yes,” he whispered. “I’ve always desired you. Surely you know that.”
That he could say it despite her claim to be a wanton shot a thrill right through her.
Then he ruined it. “And now I need not marry you to have you. That is why you told me, is it not? To let me know you will allow me certain liberties?”
“Absolutely not!” The scoundrel, the cad—
“Care to be my mistress, Louisa?” With his heated mouth still hovering near her ear, he unbuttoned her spencer, then slid his hand inside to cup her breast through her gown. “It is not as if you have anything to lose. And I can be as discreet as any of your other lovers.”
A pox on him, this wasn’t going according to plan. She tried futilely to shove his hand down. “I wasn’t trying to suggest—”
“Of course, I might be wrong, and you might have invented this Banbury tale about your sordid past merely to put me off.”
She froze, then drew back to find amusement shining in his face.
The arrogant scoundrel was laughing at her! Oh, she should have known he wouldn’t believe her. He was always so dratted sure of himself, always so sure of her. She’d wipe that taunting smile off his lips if it killed her.
She forced her hand to press his more firmly against her breast. “Lie about it? No, indeed. I’m only giving you fair warning.” Looping her arms about his neck, she undulated against him as she’d seen some of the lewd females at Newgate do to male prisoners.
To her satisfaction, his smile vanished. Only then did she stretch up to kiss him, putting lips and tongue and teeth into it in a kiss as bold as she could make it.
But her triumph was short-lived. His hand moved against her breast, fondling, kneading, teasing. She felt it even through her muslin gown and linen chemise, even through the thin cotton of her stays. The firm caress sent a jolt of sensation right down to her toes, hardening the nipple into an aching knot, dragging a moan up from deep in her throat.
Then he took command of the kiss, too, and she was lost, drowning in the taste and scent of him. The twin assaults of his tongue and hand made her reel, especially when coupled with the rigid pressure of his thigh pressing into the softness between her legs, making her ache for something unknown. She was falling into that heady heaven where only the two of them dwelt.
Half-dazed, she felt him tug out her fichu, then slide his shameless hand inside her gown and chemise and stays to stroke her bare breast. How outrageous!
How delicious. She tore her lips from his in shock, but he didn’t even pause in his caresses. With his gaze settling warm as summer rain on her, he thumbed her nipple, wringing a gasp from her lips, making her yearn for more.
“Don’t you understand yet?” The stark hunger in his face was a wild complement to the hunger he roused in her breast. “I don’t care if you kissed the whole bloody army, if you took one man or ten into your bed. I want you. I have always wanted you. You’ve been a fever in my blood for years. So I mean to have you. Lie to yourself and lie to me all you like, but in the end, you will be mine.”
A thrill shot through her as powerful as it was alarming. “Your mistress, you mean?” she asked, her hands tangling in his hair.
“My wife.” He untied her bodice and chemise ribbons. “Although I am not averse to having the wedding night before the wedding, believe me.”
As she caught her breath, he trailed kisses down her jaw and throat to the exposed swell of her upper breast, then dragged down her layers of clothing just enough to expose one breast.
Her eyes went wide. “Simon—”
“I just want a taste of you. To hold me until we share a bed.”
“We are never going to—”
He closed his mouth hotly over her breast.
Heaven help her. What insanity was this? It was far more exciting than the secret fantasies that regularly troubled her nights, far more tantalizing than even her own furtive caresses at night. His tongue was doing things to her nipple that dragged a strangled cry from her throat.
Then his hand rubbed her lower down through her walking dress, in a most scandalous fashion. Sometimes she touched herself there, too, but it never felt like this…like she was tinder to his flame, sparking and burning so fiercely…
“You taste like nectar,” he breathed against her breast. “So damned sweet.”
She bent her head to bury a kiss in his golden hair. “You feel like…oh…heavens…” Now his other hand worked her other breast through her layers of clothing, and the flames blazed brighter in her belly, coursing through her like wildfire, consuming her. If he didn’t stop—“Simon…Simon…don’t…”
“Ache for you?” He scattered rough kisses from her breast to her throat. “Need you? Have you any idea what you do to me?”
He angled his hips against the place he’d just been rubbing, and she felt something unmistakably hard bulging against her. “This, sweetheart, is what you rouse in me every time I see you.” His lips brushed her ear. “I want to be inside you. I want to prove that passion between us is never a mistake. And I can, if you will just give me the chance.”
He bent his mouth to her other breast and laved it so deftly, teased it so expertly with his teeth, that she arched against him, lured by the promise of him driving inside her to satisfy her hot, aching urges—
A furry ball dropped onto Simon’s head, chattering and jerking his hair and shocking them both out of their sensual haze.
Simon sprang back, eyes alight with frustration as he grabbed for his pet. “Damn it, Raji, you have the worst bloody timing!”
“Or the best timing, depending on how you look at it,” she whispered. She’d just ventured close enough to the inferno to feel its flames licking at her. Thank heaven Raji had jerked her back.
While Simon wrestled with his angry monkey, she frantically tried to restore her clothing. How could she have allowed Simon…what sort of hussy was she, consumed by desires and fires and sweet, heady—
Raji leapt to her shoulder, then turned to snarl at Simon. Judging from Simon’s startled expression, his pet had never done that before. “What the deuce are you—” The monkey chattered at Simon so furiously that Simon scowled. “Oh, for God’s sake, you can’t possibly think I was hurting her.”
When Raji threw his arms about Louisa’s neck, Louisa clung to him. “I do believe that Raji is staking his claim on me,” she said shakily, afraid she could never be serene again after this.
“The devil he is.” Simon reached for Raji, only to have his pet slap his hand. Simon glared at Raji. “Now see here, you little scamp—”
“Don’t chastise him!” she said as she soothed the agitated monkey. “At least he has sense enough to know that we shouldn’t be doing…these things.”
Simon’s gaze shot to her, his blue eyes dark as midnight in the dusk. “You’re right, of course.” A shuddering breath escaped him. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. But I can control myself, I swear. You have to give me the chance—”
“To seduce me? To ruin me?”
“No!” He thrust one hand through his hair. “Of course not. To court you.”
“But I don’t want you to court me!”
His conqueror’s gaze fell hotly upon her. “Yet you melt in my arms whenever we kiss. Don’t try to deny that you desire me, when I can feel—”
“Yes, I do,” she said hastily, before his words further tempted her. She hadn’t yet recovered from his startling assertion—You’ve been a fever in my blood for years.
Just because he desired her didn’t mean she could trust him…with her heart or her dreams. He hadn’t been on the side of reform before—could his sojourn in India really have changed him that much?
She doubted it. And she dared not risk finding out that it hadn’t. Last tim
e he’d betrayed her, it had nearly destroyed her. “I’ll admit that you tempt me. And you’re right—I still feel…a connection to you.” She stroked Raji’s fur, her voice lowering. “But it changes nothing. I’m still determined not to marry. Which is why I’ve…I’ve made my decision.”
He stiffened. “About what?”
“If you’re serious about helping us, then you can observe Mrs. Harris’s committee. But that is all. Because you and I are never going to work together.”
“Damn it, Louisa—” he began and stepped nearer, but Raji started caterwauling.
Clenching his hands, Simon glowered at her. “Take some time to think about it. You are only alarmed right now because of what we nearly did.”
“I don’t need time. I know what I want.” I know what I have to do to keep myself safe. To stay the course.
The fury on his face chilled her to her bones. “For God’s sake—”
“That’s my final decision, Simon.” Scooping up her hat and fichu, she took off at a run through the woods, with Raji clinging to her bodice. She had to get back to the road, where the tiger was, where Simon would be forced to behave like a gentleman and she could retreat into the solace of her ladylike reserve again.
Avoiding the groom’s curious glances, she set Raji on the seat, then stuffed in her fichu, buttoned her spencer, and donned her hat. By the time she climbed into the rig, she’d hidden the evidence of her shameless encounter with Simon. She could only pray that his groom would be discreet.
She heard thundering hooves coming from the direction of London and in case it was someone she knew, she bent her head to hide her face.
That proved useless when the carriage halted a scant few feet away. Too late, she recognized the crest and silver livery of her brother’s equipage.
Marcus leapt out, followed closely by Regina. “Why are you sitting out here by the side of the road?”
“I’m sorry, Louisa,” Regina said hastily, “but you know your brother. When he heard that I let you go alone with Simon to Lady Trusbut’s, he was furious.”
Thank heaven Louisa had returned to the phaeton before Marcus showed up, or he would be pummeling Simon into a bloody pulp right now.
“Deuce take it!” exclaimed Simon’s voice from the woods. “Why didn’t you—”
Louisa tensed. Leave it to him to choose the wrong moment to make his appearance. Her heart in her throat, she glanced at him, and let out a sigh of relief to find him fully dressed now.
Her brother whirled on the duke with a vicious scowl. “What the hell is going on here, Foxmoor?”
“His Grace’s pet ran off into the woods,” Louisa said before Simon could answer, “and the duke went to look for him.”
That drew her brother’s anger back to her. “Oh? Then why is the monkey sitting in your lap?”
She thrust out her chin, well-accustomed to dealing with her bear of a brother. “Because he found his way back while the duke was out searching.” She shot Simon a glance as she took Raji into her arms. “You see, Your Grace? Raji is safe.” Please don’t make trouble for me, she begged him silently.
Simon sucked in a breath, and for an instant she feared he’d pronounce her a liar. She wouldn’t put it past him—compromising her would probably seem like a good way to force her to the altar. But he was in for a surprise if he tried it, because she would never let Marcus browbeat her into marrying anyone.
Simon let out a breath, then approached them with an expression as unruffled as she hoped hers was. “Typical Raji behavior, I’m afraid. The scamp took a notion to swing through the trees, and I half feared I wouldn’t find him.” He smiled coldly at her brother. “But he has a fondness for your sister. I should have known he would circle back to her.”
“Yes, and he’s fine now,” she put in.
Though her brother looked suspicious, his stance softened. “Well, neither of you should be out here after dark. The roads can be dangerous.”
“Yes.” Simon shifted his gaze to Louisa, a wealth of emotion glittering in the steely depths. “We were talking about the dangers of a lonely road earlier, weren’t we, Miss North?”
Impudent scoundrel—him and his “dangers of a lonely road.” What did he know about it? He’d never had to bear a child in blood and horror, never had to risk trusting someone who could easily turn into a tyrant after marrying her. Men had all the power in England. And if you couldn’t be sure you trusted the man—
She smiled sweetly. “Speaking of dangerous roads, I might as well ride back the rest of the way with Marcus. You’ll be home quicker if you don’t have to take me to the town house, Your Grace.”
“I don’t mind,” Simon bit out, his jaw taut with anger.
“I know.” She set Raji on the seat, then leapt down from the phaeton before anyone could stop her. “But this will be easier.”
Indeed, now that she no longer feared being caught in a passionate embrace with Simon, she wanted to kiss her overprotective brother for coming after her.
As she walked toward Marcus’s carriage, she told Simon, “I do hope you enjoy observing Mrs. Harris’s committee, sir. And thank you for helping with the Trusbuts. It was most kind of you.”
“We’ll see you Tuesday, won’t we, Simon?” Regina chirped behind her.
Louisa stifled a groan. She’d forgotten that she’d asked him to join them. She could hardly get out of it now.
The cursed rogue knew it, too, for a sudden smile split his face. “Oh, I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to it.”
Jerking her gaze from his gloating expression, Louisa stepped up to her brother’s carriage, but before Marcus could help her inside, Simon added, “Aren’t you forgetting something, Miss North?”
She turned toward him, her heart nearly stopping when she saw what he held out to her. Her gloves. The ones he’d tucked in his pockets.
Ignoring her brother’s scowl, she walked over to take them from Simon. How she wished she could use them to slap the mocking smile off his face. “Thank you.” Hastily, she slipped them on her hands. “I forgot I’d removed them to feed Raji at Lady Trusbut’s. I’m so glad you remembered that I’d given them to you.”
It was a creaky tale at best, which was why his low laugh made her want to kick him. But at least he didn’t try to sabotage her claim. “You’re welcome, Miss North. I am always happy to be of service to you.”
His eyes drifted down to her crooked fichu, and she thanked the heavens that she blocked Marcus’s view of his knowing gaze.
Simon’s voice was a rough rumble that stopped the breath in her throat. “Next time we’re alone, I’ll be sure to leave my pesky monkey at home.”
She couldn’t mistake his meaning, or the firmness of purpose that darkened his handsome face.
“There will be no next time,” she murmured. “I promise you that.”
As she headed for Marcus’s carriage, she felt Simon’s hot gaze scorching her. If he ever got her alone again, the fever in his blood was liable to ignite the fever in hers, and they’d erupt in flames together, burning everything to ash before them—everything she’d planned, everything she’d worked for.
As she, Marcus, and Regina set off in the carriage, she didn’t look out the window to see if Simon stood watching them leave. With Regina and Marcus there, she didn’t dare.
When she caught her brother scowling, she met his gaze coolly. “Do you have something to say, Marcus?”
“Take care, angel. Foxmoor is still a dangerous man.”
“Marcus!” Regina cried. “My brother is not the ogre you paint him.”
“No? Have you forgotten how he manipulated even you—”
“That was years ago,” Regina said. “He’s not the same man he was then.”
“I’m not so sure,” Marcus said. “He’s still toying with my sister’s heart.”
“Fiddlesticks.” Louisa forced lightness into her tone. “My heart has been boarded up against the duke for years. You needn’t worry about me with him.”
Marcus lifted an eyebrow. “Then why did he have your gloves? I’m no fool, Louisa. I know how a man like him works.”
“Probably much the way you worked on the many occasions when you and Regina got into trouble before you married her.”
Regina’s smothered laugh merely made Marcus’s scowl deepen. “That was different. Regina and I were in love.”
Louisa sighed. She certainly couldn’t claim that for her and Simon. Just because they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other didn’t mean they were in love. Reckless, perhaps. Insane, most definitely. But not in love.
“Simon and I aren’t taking up with each other again. He has agreed to help the London Ladies Society, but that’s all.” She flashed her brother a blithe smile.
Marcus snorted. “I saw how he looked at you, like you were a plump partridge he ached to pluck. Has it occurred to you that his sudden interest might be part of a scheme for enacting his revenge on you for what you did to him?”
The chill that coursed through her banished her smile. That had never occurred to her; she’d been too busy looking for some political reason for his behavior. She’d never once thought his motive might be as simple as revenge.
Because he’d said he’d put the past behind him. Because he’d claimed to have recognized that what he’d done to her was wrong.
Because he’d kissed her like a man who meant it.
But his kisses could lie—they had before. Oh, she was such an idiot, not to consider the most obvious reason for distrusting him.
“Ignore Marcus,” Regina said. “Simon would never be so diabolical—”
“That’s what you claimed seven years ago,” Marcus snapped.
“He was a brash young idiot then. Since that time, he has done much good for his country. He learned from his mistakes. I’m sure of it.” She glared at her husband. “Even you once admitted that his tenure as Governor-General was above reproach.”
A muscle ticked in Marcus’s jaw. “That was before he started pursuing my sister again. And before I got wind of—”
When he broke off, Louisa’s stomach knotted. “Of what?”
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