“You may want to keep your cloak on until the room warms.”
Millie was startled by the troubled tenor to his voice. It was clear she was going to be staying here for at least a while—wherever here was. The tiara headpiece Madame Sasha insisted she wear had gone askew when Chase threw her over his shoulder. It was tearing into her scalp, but pride refused to let her remove it. Millie wrapped her burgundy cape more firmly around her and walked over to the front window to look outside. She refused to stand next to Charles despite the cold.
Minutes passed. Both declined to speak or look at the other. Chase could hear Millie rub her arms for warmth. Millie listened as Chase crouched to stoke the fire.
“It’s warmer over here, Millie.”
Millie squared her shoulders and jutted her chin. “I am fine right here, thank you.”
“Then I shall trouble you no more.”
Chase’s clipped words reignited Millie’s anger, which had only just begun to simmer down. She turned and confronted him. “Trouble me? When have my thoughts and feelings ever affected anything you do? You kiss me at your whim even though you have every intention on marrying someone else.” Millie was shaking and emotional and tired. Too much had happened and she could not keep her thoughts bottled up any longer. “Never once did you consider how your such a decision would affect me. You continue your advances, playing with my emotions, knowing full well how you disturb me. But the worst of it all, you are making me crazy. Do you know how hard it has been for me knowing that your life is in danger and not being allowed to even talk about it? Will you even discuss it with me? Tell me what those men are planning? What you are planning? And how my amulet is involved? Of course not. And now, for inexplicable reasons, I find myself in a dusty room, without servants or warmth, in the company of a man who loathes me, seeks to make me unhappy, and tries to humiliate me whenever possible. So explain to me, Charlie Wentworth, how exactly are you going to trouble me no more?”
For the first time that night, Chase realized Millie’s fury with him was very deep and very genuine. In other circumstances, he might have reacted differently, but the memory of seeing another man dare to place his lips against the softness of her skin was still fresh and very vivid. “Excuse me, madam. If you think so little of me, then why were you trying to make me jealous?”
Millie’s dainty jaw went rigid. “Jealous? You, jealous? First of all, my lord, I would have had to know you were in attendance tonight if my goal was to make you jealous. The first time I was aware of your presence was when your fist suddenly appeared over my shoulder and right into poor Mr. Eddington’s eye!”
Chase wanted to shake her. “Poor Mr. Eddington! If you say that one more time . . .” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Poor Mr. Eddington is a very lucky fellow. He should be praising God I did not call him out this evening.” Never would she understand the extraordinary act of will it took for him to walk away and not pull the man up by his cravat and hit him again.
Millie tried to adjust the excruciating headdress. The attempt just made the pain worse. “You insufferable . . . egotistical . . . maniacal . . .” she stammered, half in pain, half in anger.
“Would you just get to the insult, Millie? I am getting old waiting to hear it.”
“Typical Charlie Wentworth,” Millie responded, her voice trembling. “Whenever he is in error, he switches the focus of the argument.”
“Unlike you and your childish name-calling.” Chase’s fingers were clamped so fiercely on the mantel it was a miracle he had not cracked the marble. “Besides, I am not ready to admit I was even slightly in the wrong this evening. Do not try to spin some cork-brained story. Mr. Eddington’s eyes never left you. Never has a man made it more obvious that he wanted a woman.”
“I guess throwing a lady over your shoulder and marching her out the front door in the middle of a Society ball does not count.”
Chase moved so quickly Millie never even saw it coming. One moment he was at the hearth and the next his hand was clamped around her wrist, dragging her to his chest. His eyes glinted with raw possessiveness. “Understand this, Mildred Aldon. You are mine. And no man touches what is mine. If another man dares to kiss you again, he will die.”
Chase let go and Millie took several steps back. Hot, furious tears burned her eyes. “Well, calm yourself. For while you are correct that jealousy was the topic of tonight’s adventure, you were not its object. If you could expand your pea-sized view of this evening’s events just slightly, you would have realized the only reason Mr. Eddington was staring at me was because I commanded it. The fool almost ruined everything, and would have if he had not finally managed to control his constant need to search for his true love, Lily Moreland. Thank goodness the charade is finally over and he and his intended are together.”
“You are telling me that everything I saw tonight was to make Miss Lily Moreland jealous?”
“Partly, but a good deal more was focused on getting her parents to realize that a successful merchant could be welcomed by higher Society.”
Silence filled the room for several seconds before Chase found his voice. “Are you telling me my mother set you up with a merchant?”
Chase’s voice filled the room, causing Millie to take several more steps back until she bumped into a large settee situated in the middle of the room.
Millie was shocked at his outrage. “Do not claim social superiority above working men. I know you think differently, Charlie Wentworth, especially as you are a working man yourself!” Regaining her confidence, Millie came forward several steps. “Indeed I do! I know you and Reece have started your own specialized shipping company. I also know that you are beginning to turn a tidy profit from your endeavors. So do not expect me to believe you are upset that a man of trade pretended to be interested in me.”
Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Who else have you told, Millie?”
Millie sensed his sudden change and realized her instincts to remain silent had been correct. “No one,” she whispered. “I saw the documents one morning when writing regrets to would-be suitors. I moved them to a drawer so as not to disturb them. They were out where anyone could see them, Chase. I did not think them private, but I never spoke of them to Aimee or Jennelle. I thought Aimee might read something into it and get her hopes up regarding Mr. Hamilton.”
Chase’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly before he turned and roughly raked his fingers through his hair, trying to get his scalp to relax. Nothing tonight was going as planned. “Ah, Millie. How is it that, no matter how hard I try to keep you safe, you come within an arm’s length of danger? Please, say nothing of the shipping company. It’s very important, love.”
His whispered plea affected Millie more than anything else could. She walked over and placed a hand on his back. “Aimee will be vexed when she finds out, but she will not learn about your trade endeavors from me.”
Several moments passed, and Millie determined the agony she was enduring mattered more to her than her pride. “Chase, I know you are extremely angry with me, but can you please help me take this blasted headpiece off? I can no longer live with the pain.”
Chase turned and inclined his head to look down at the intricate headdress. “Lord, Millie, whatever inspired you to wear such a thing?”
Millie gave him a scathing look. “I was trying to make someone jealous, if you recall.”
“Bloody hell, how many pins do you women use to keep your hair in these crazy loops all over your head? I could build a bridge with the amount of wire buried in here.”
Minutes later, Millie felt the weight of her mane fall down her back to her waist. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I cannot tell you how much better that feels.”
Chase watched as Millie shook loose her long, dark locks. He felt his abdomen tighten and all his muscles become tense. He wanted her, but even more, he wanted her to want him. Badly.
The heated look in the depths of Chase’s amber eyes rattled Millie’s nerves all the way to her t
oes. There was something mesmerizing about his gaze. It would continue to break her heart if she let it. She closed her eyes and reminded herself he was going to marry another.
“Millie . . .” Chase took a step forward.
Millie’s eyes popped open. She quickly avoided his embrace and moved to put the settee between them. “M-my lord, I do not know why you and I affect each other so, or why I cannot stop myself... when around you.” Millie knew she was babbling. Nerves prompted her to continue. “Jennelle says it is common for a man to physically desire one woman while interested in marrying another.”
“She says all that, does she?”
Millie unconsciously bobbed her head up and down. “Ah, yes. Men are often attracted to those they cannot have,” she said, frozen and unable to move as she watched Chase go around the velveteen couch.
Chase softly clucked his tongue. “I cannot have you, Millie? Did you not just hear me moments ago vow that you are forever mine?”
Millie gulped. “I just a . . . assumed it was your pride talking. That . . . that you were upset.”
Chase gave a single swift shake of his head. “I was not upset, my dear. I was furious. Another man had his lips on your cheek. That is a particular experience only one man shall ever know—me.”
The weight of his words suddenly hit her, and a sense of self-worth flooded back into Millie. “And do you honestly expect me to be your chère amie while you go off and marry Mrs. Brinson?”
Shock momentarily stopped Chase’s advance. His eyes held hers. There was no mistaking their dark look. Every nerve ending immediately responded to their unspoken message. Millie had to force herself to maintain a respectable distance.
“Millie, what the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Indignation rose in Millie and she waved a finger at him. “I told you. We saw you. We saw you with Mrs. Brinson. You become highly agitated with a mere peck on my cheek. Well, what do you think I felt, seeing you embrace her on the street!”
Chase’s eyes flashed with anger. “You should have realized there was more to what you were seeing! Do you actually think I am so ungentlemanly as to do that to you?”
“But you told Sir Edward you were getting married!”
“Blast it, Millie! What type of man do you take me for? Can you be so naïve as to think that we wouldn’t be married after what we shared in Sefton’s gardens?”
Tears began to flow freely from Millie’s eyes. “But you never said anything. No words of love, no promises, nothing!”
“Bloody hell, Millie. You know I am dealing with some very dangerous people at the moment. Considering a life with you, right now, would be most unconscionable of me. These men would use you to get to me, and it would work. You should have known how much you meant to me!”
Millie thought she could actually hear her heart beating in her chest. Chase was saying words she had secretly longed to hear. Perhaps not the way she had imagined, but nonetheless, the reasons—ones that explained away all the hurt and pain, were suddenly real. Chase wanted to marry her. She was going to get married!
As soon as the idea took hold, Millie knew she would have to let it go. Eight years ago, she had begged her friends to join in a marriage pact. Never had she broken a vow made to them, and she was not going to do so now. She would not leave Jennelle and Aimee alone. That was the whole reason behind the promise in the first place.
Chase watched as tears filled Millie’s beautiful lavender eyes. “Millie, whatever is going through that crazy mind of yours?” His voice was deep, husky, caressing.
Millie felt miserable. Guilt and hurt and anger and uncertainty and just plain misery, she answered silently. “I cannot marry you, Chase. I made a promise a long time ago. I cannot break it now.”
Suddenly Chase understood the full import behind Jennelle’s missive. “I understand.”
“No, I do not think you do,” Millie murmured softly, staring at the carpet. A tear fell and splashed near her feet.
Chase lifted her chin and compelled her to look at him. “At least let me try. You, my sister, and Jennelle made a promise never to get married. However, being wise youthful girls, you each included a single exception to your promise.”
“How did you know . . . ?”
Chase placed a gentle finger on her lips. “Your exception was actually a set of prerequisites. Was it not?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“The first set is a little odd, but we must remember your age and unusual inclinations at the time of the pledge. You must be allowed to ride astride, climb trees, and hunt. If I remember correctly, I have never objected to your riding astride; in fact I encouraged it because you have a penchant for riding somewhat aggressively. As for climbing trees and hunting, do so at your pleasure whenever we are at our country estate. I only ask you to refrain while in Town.”
Millie narrowed her eyes as she realized one of her friends had obviously disclosed the details of her exception to the pact. “What about your propensity for following rules?”
“You forgot dull and my lack of passion for adventures.”
“I do not consider you dull.”
Chase gathered her into his arms and looked down into her eyes. He was drowning, completely lost in Millie’s warmth and softness. “Mildred Aldon, I want you more than I have wanted anything or anyone else my entire life.”
A tremor went through Millie, and she snuggled against his chest. Chase smelled wonderful, and it felt so good to be this close to him. More than anything, she wanted to be his just as he claimed. “I love you, Charlie.”
Chase was not ready for the impact of her whispered words. She was the most beautiful, most desirable woman he had ever seen in his life. And she loved him.
Chase’s groin throbbed with a sudden fierce need to possess her. A strange fear gripped him, that if he did not claim her now, he might lose her. He caught Millie’s face between his hands, and he kissed her slowly, fighting the desperate urge to yank off her dress and sink himself into her softness. “Marry me, Millie. Marry me and make me the luckiest man ever to live.”
As he pulled back, Millie saw the raw need shimmering in his eyes. She swallowed at the enormity of need in those golden pools. Chase genuinely desired her. “Charlie, I . . .”
“Millie . . .” Her name was a soft growl as swiftly mounting desire consumed him. Chase buried his face in the dark waves of sweet-smelling hair, nibbling her neck, trailing his lips to the base of her throat and below.
Millie had never felt more alive, more desired. Tonight it was different from before. Tonight, every mental and emotional barrier between them was gone. Millie heard someone moaning and realized the primal sounds were coming from her. Chase brought his mouth back down on hers in a lingering kiss that scorched her from head to toe.
“Lord, Millie, what you do to me. I must have you, love. I must. I have never needed anything as I need you. I cannot wait. Please forgive me.” His forehead came into contact with hers. His breath was ragged and his hands trembled both with need and fear she might say no.
Millie untied his cravat and stood on tiptoe to kiss the small indentation in his neck as she had dreamed of doing every night before she slept. Her tongue swirled against his warm skin, tasting him, loving him. It was far better than she had imagined.
Drowning in her sweet caresses, Chase knew if he didn’t have Millie, and soon, Bedlam was soon going to receive a new patient. He reached out and pulled her back to retake her mouth. Just before his lips came down on hers, he vowed, “I love you, Mildred Aldon. Say you will marry me.”
Millie stroked his dark hair, realizing that nothing in her life had ever felt so right. “Yes, Charles Wentworth. I will marry you. For you, too, are mine.”
Chase looked into Millie’s dark violet pools of love and squeezed her tightly before reclaiming her mouth with a deep, tender possessiveness. No longer would he be concerned with her names for him. For no matter what name she used, what emotion was coursing through her veins, her he
art beat for him. She loved him.
Chase wanted tonight to last forever and slowed their pace. Before the evening was over, Millie would be undeniably his. He softened the kiss and urged her mouth to open, seeking a response to match his own. Slowly Millie parted her lips and invited him to taste her. A sweet, soft moan erupted from her, and Chase swallowed the beautiful sound. It had been too long since he last enjoyed her sweet lips.
Millie felt the sleeves of the gem-covered material fall from her shoulders. Only the shimmering silver material underneath remained. Strong hands cupped her breasts through the thin cloth, but never once did Chase break from his foray of her heavenly mouth. Millie suddenly wanted to feel him, to actually touch his broad chest and entwine her fingers in his crisp, curling dark hair. She unfastened his waistcoat and tugged on his linen shirt. Emboldened, she pulled her mouth away from his and trailed a line of kisses across his chest. He was so different from her. Hard, powerful, and extremely masculine. She could live a thousand years and never get tired of touching him.
Without warning, Millie stopped and looked at Chase, wide-eyed. Parts of his body were getting very hard. “Charlie, I think something is wrong with you.”
When Millie had begun her assault on his senses, it had taken everything in him not to throw her on the floor and attack her. Chase took her fingertips in his hands and kissed them softly. Letting them go, he walked over to a chair, grabbed the large, thick plaid blanket that was strewn haphazardly across it, and laid it on the floor in front of the hearth. Turning, he asked, “Do you trust me, love?”
“With all that I am,” she whispered.
Chase stared at the vision walking toward him. She was slim and delicate, incredibly female. He did not think it possible, but he grew even harder as the white satin chemise played over her sweetly curved buttocks. His fingers flexed in anticipation of what was to come. He vowed not to rush anything with her. He wanted her first time to be as powerful and incredible for her as it was going to be for him.
A Woman Made for Pleasure Page 27