Captivated by His Kiss: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Seven Regency Romances

by Cheryl Bolen

  Abruptly, he drew back and moved to take one of the empty chairs by the fire. Sitting, he shifted uneasily in his seat and crossed his legs, silently cursing the hot blood that stirred in his loins. For the first time ever, he wished to disown his fierce arousal. He urgently needed to exercise more control.

  He’d not been prepared for her response to his nearness and it had almost been his undoing. Being alone with Sabine, in a bedchamber, was having a profound effect on his body. Worse, the blank daze of desire swirling in her beautiful sky blue eyes, in anticipation of his kiss, sent a shock of raw need through his every extremity.

  He refused to look at her until she took the chair next to his. He needed the time to compose himself. She too looked as if she was struggling to compose herself. Her face held a pink flush, as if they’d just made love. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to see Sabine in the throes of passion. He’d never had the privilege of having her beneath him and, by God he wanted it almost as much as the air he breathed.

  She thankfully interrupted his raging carnal thoughts.

  “I know you have no reason to help me…” she paused briefly and continued “after what I did to you, but I’m hoping you won’t hold that against my Father. He greatly admired you, you know.”

  Marcus tried to concentrate on her words as he sat, utterly fascinated. Sabine was everything he remembered and more. Her hair was still as fair as dried wheat in the heat of summer. The tight coil was softened by a few soft wispy tresses that flowed over her bare shoulders. His gaze wandered to her bosom. Her breasts seemed fuller and womanly compared to the young girl he remembered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to pull her into his lap and bury his face between their plump splendor, to slip his tongue into the valley between her breasts and stroke across her nipples…

  He shook his head to clear away the tempting images. He’d never known her in that way. A few kisses were all he’d allowed himself. What a fool he’d been. He castigated himself furiously. Why did she still have the power to make him want her so much? Was it simply because he’d been denied the delights of her inviting body?

  “Are you listening to me?” A flush crept up her neck as she noted where his gaze was lingering. He refocused his attention with a start.

  “Your father was a fine man, as were your brothers. How they must have turned in their graves over the way you treated me.”

  The flush fled her features and her face became deathly pale. “You’re right. I’m sure my brothers would have ensured my life turned out quite differently, but I cannot change the past.” Her eyes seemed to blur. “No matter how much I want to,” she whispered.

  “Humph! Change the past? It seems to have worked out very well for you, Lady Sabine Orsini.”

  Her soft voice held a wistful note. “Appearances can be deceptive.”

  “I know. You taught me that lesson very well.”

  She stiffened in her seat, upright like an alabaster statue, unable to meet his gaze.

  They sat in silence. The only sound the crackle of the fire.

  “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for hurting you.” Her voice shook, and her eyes when they met his were full of unshed tears. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  “Only if what you state is true.”

  She nodded, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

  Marcus exhaled in a rush. “Why? For god’s sake, why? You owe me that at least.”

  She bit her lip so hard he thought she’d make it bleed. Finally she shrugged, as if in defeat. “I was young and stupid and I made a mistake. A mistake life has severely punished me for. You don’t need to heap any more punishment upon me.”

  Need, no. Want, yes. Or did he? Sabine appeared to be genuine in her remorse. But then again, he’d thought her genuine in her feelings for him in the past.

  “What is it you want from me? Where you are concerned, I have little to give.”

  “It’s not for me, it’s for my father and mother. I want you to enter and win a card game–the card game.”

  Marcus found it difficult to control his surprised reaction. This was the last thing he’d expected. “You need money?”

  “No, not at all. What I want of you is to enter and then win the Gentleman’s Annual Whist Tournament that begins in three days’ time.”

  Now he was interested. He did not have a name as the most skillful of players. Did she in fact want to see him lose? He remained silent, his steely gaze fixed unwaveringly on her face. She licked her lips and yet again his balls tightened. God, how could he still want her so badly? His mind pictured all the things those luscious lips could do to pleasure him.

  She continued. “You have never entered this tournament before and therefore will be an unknown.”

  Marcus felt his shoulders bunch and ripple. “You want me to win the tournament? Why?”

  “I mean to destroy the man who ruined my father. His actions lead directly to the deaths of my parents. Women cannot enter this tournament. Therefore, I need your assistance. As well, I need you to give me that element of the unknown in my quest to trounce my enemy. I wish to entice a certain gentleman into betting against you. I will lure him to bet on the favorite, Lord Prendergast. He’s won the tournament for the last five years. When you win, this said gentleman will lose everything.”

  “I have always considered you devious after what happened but this…. I’m truly lost for words. Not very honorable is an understatement but, really, I shouldn’t be so surprised.”

  She took a deep breath. Her eyes glinted with anger and he saw her hands were shaking; her fury was glaringly obvious. They sat staring at each other for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, merely minutes.

  As he expected, she gave in. “This man is using my father’s money to stake his bets. He is using blood money to try and make a fortune. I won’t allow it to happen. It is pure and simple revenge. He left my parents to die in abject poverty….”

  Marcus watched her closely. Her face was deathly pale and it was clear she was not lying.

  “Why did your father not ask for help?”

  “He thought the law would help him. He also thought he could deal with this man himself. He was sorely mistaken. I don’t intend to make that mistake. By using you, by you putting up your stake for the game, this man will have no idea I am behind his impending demise. For who would believe you’d ever help me?”

  His conscience then came knocking loud and clear. He remembered her father’s letters. Had they been a cry for help? Guilt made him ask, “Who was the man?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want you involved. I simply want you to win the game.”

  His mouth firmed but her chin took on a stubborn tilt. She would not tell him. Well, he would not push at this moment, but he would learn his name.

  He let out a harsh laugh. “And what happens when I win?”

  “You’ll win a very large sum of money, plus I’ll give you a bonus of one-hundred thousand pounds. I’m a very wealthy woman and money is no object,” she said in a haughty voice.

  The bloody nerve of the woman—money! She thought money interested him! He had more money than he knew what to do with. Making sound investments was an innate talent of his and he’d more than prospered over the years. He managed his friends, Harlow and Henry’s, finances, as well as his own.

  No. Winning more money did not excite him. He knew exactly what would excite him. He wanted her, in every which way a man could take a woman, until he’d had his fill.

  God damn her to hell! He shouldn’t want her like this. He blamed her for re-entering his life unbidden, and his anger at how alluring she still was, grew until he felt white-hot fury that she still had the power to make him feel so much.

  His eyes drank her in thirstily. Sabine was no longer the innocent girl he’d fallen in love with, if indeed she ever had been innocent. He wanted her with a man’s relentless desire. Ten years ago his desire for her was mixed with tenderness. Now, he simply wanted her with a raw, na
ked hunger. How much he wanted her, frightened him and rendered him vulnerable.

  Agreeing to help her would be a mistake. Every honed instinct screamed for him to deny her and stand and leave. But part of him still wanted what had been ripped away from him all those years ago. He craved what she’d dangled before him so temptingly and then so callously cut away.

  This time, he would make her fall in love with him and then he’d be the one to walk away.

  “You’re obviously under some misconception that I care about money,” he finally proffered.

  “Then, if not money, what is it that you do care about?” she queried in a manner that was faintly taunting.

  “Pleasure-and then some more,” Marcus responded, observing with satisfaction her horrified expression. “Come, don’t act so surprised. If you have taken the time to learn about me, then you must have learned of all my favorite pursuits.”

  Involuntarily, she glanced at her hands and he saw her swallow nervously. “You are one of the most notorious rakehells in all of England. The minute I returned to England I could hardly avoid learning that.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Perhaps I had a lucky escape.”

  Calling on all his willpower, Marcus reined in his violent irritation at her provocative words. “I used to be exceedingly discriminating about the women I pursued. However, after you… after you taught me how ridiculous that sentiment was, I didn’t much care who I bedded. I simply buried my pain in pleasure.”

  Her lack of response at his proclamation needled him further.

  “Fucking, in another word. Actually, I have become rather good at it. I’m sure, given your lack of particularity about who shares your bed, that you’ve become quite the expert too.”

  Some emotion flickered in her eyes in response, something vulnerable and too fleeting for him to identify. Then she lowered her eyelids as if to shield the secrets she hid within.

  He leaned forward in his chair. “In fact, you can take the blame for turning me into, as you so succinctly put it, a notorious rakehell.”

  Finally, a reaction! With her mouth turned down in sharp disapproval and her eyes darkened with anger, she ferociously defended herself. “I’m sure you were already well on the path to depravity and wickedness before I met you. You certainly didn’t behave like a proper gentleman, especially with me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You think what we did was wicked? Hop on that bed and I’ll show you the true definition of wicked!”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary”-

  -”And why not? Unless, of course, you still enjoy teasing the men in your life. Do you dangle your body temptingly like a piece of heaven before them and then watch them writhe in pain when you deprive them of the physical satisfaction you so falsely promised them?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sabine hissed at him through clenched teeth, trying to protect herself from his cruel taunt. “That, I believe, is none of your concern.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, siren. If you wish me to help you with your distasteful plan, then whom you may be bedding is very much my concern. I won’t be cuckolded again.”

  “I don’t understand? How can I have ever cuckolded you? We were never lovers, nor are we likely to be.” She gasped in sudden comprehension and a shudder ripped through her. Oh, no! Absolutely not.”

  He laughed, a rich sound that skittered down her spine, reminding her of a more pleasant time, long ago.

  “Haven’t you ever thought about us and how it would have been in my bed? I’m considered quite the expert. I must admit”- he ran his eyes insolently over her until she felt as if she were naked under his gaze,- “I’ve often fantasized about what I’d do to you—with you—if you were ever mine.”

  “I haven’t thought of you much at all,” she retorted, praying he’d believe the lie. She’d thought about him almost every lonely day over the past ten years.

  “Well, my lovely, if you want my help that is all about to change. I want you thinking about me every second of the day and night, and only me, if you can manage that?”

  Hearing his bitterness, Sabine stared down at the carpet. Tension constricted her throat. Marcus would never forgive her that much was obvious. Her plan to avenge her father—as well as herself, would fall apart without Marcus’s support.

  Worse, she didn’t deserve his derision or his hatred. She’d suffered more than he knew. But if Marcus learned the truth, he’d be more than eager for revenge. That had been why she’d done what she’d done all those years ago. She knew what revenge he’d insist upon taking and that would put his very life in danger. She couldn’t live with the guilt should something happen to him.

  “I’m not asking you to do this for me. I’m asking you to help me extract revenge for my father and mother.”

  His face softened slightly at the mention of her parents. “Tell me what happened.”

  “My father was a proud man. As he got older, his work began to dry up and he looked around for an investment which would keep them both in their old age. He was introduced to a man who had a sure fire investment.”

  Marcus interrupted. “Let me guess, Gower suggested investing in Northern Mining.”

  Blast! She hadn’t wished to reveal her target quite so soon. Reluctantly, she confirmed his guess. “Yes, yes.” She opened her palms wide, willing the tears not to come. “They lost everything. They died of malnutrition and disease in a poorhouse.” She held back a sob at the memory of the letter that had arrived too late in Milan. Her father had written informing her of their plight. By the time she’d returned to England, they were both dead. “I’ve done some investigating. Northern Mining was a paper company with no assets. Gower knew what he was doing, yet the law won’t touch him.”

  Marcus nodded his head, understanding. “The men behind the investment were clever. It all looks legitimate on paper.” He looked grim. “You are proposing your own brand of punishment. You’ve learned of Gower’s weakness—gambling. I’ve heard he’s in dun territory.”

  “Yes, I’ve learned a lot about Lord Gower. He is not a very good card player. He doesn’t ever enter the Gentleman’s Annual Whist Tournament but he wagers on the outcome. I believe he’s placed a very large bet on Lord Prendergast with the field. He’s positive the bet is a sure thing. The odds are in his favor, Prendergast has won the last five years.”

  “Gower thinks he’ll clear his debts from this one tournament. Everyone at Whites has heard of his exorbitant wager.”

  She lifted her gaze to Marcus, and as their eyes locked, the painful past was a chasm between them. “Will you help me?”

  It was all the pleading she’d do. Pain lashed her at the cold expression on his handsome face. Having met with Marcus, even after ten years, Sabine realized that time had not mitigated the raw hurt of her necessary betrayal. She was mud under his boot.

  “If you want my help, I have a wager of my own.”

  The hairs on her arms rose and her stomach began to churn. What was coming could not be good.

  He continued. “If I win, I want more than money. I want flesh and blood. If I help you obtain your revenge, then you must help me gain mine.”

  She wasn’t stupid. There was no point in pretending she didn’t know exactly what he was implying. He wanted his revenge against her.

  He spoke huskily but firmly. “We shall have our own wager, you and I. If I win the tournament for you, you must become my paramour for as long as I desire.” He glanced at her with his glinting amber eyes, the dark lashes shielding his true thoughts. “And I have ferocious desires.”

  Even though Sabine had known what he was going to demand, the shock made her give a choked cry. “I thought you many things once, but never petty.”

  “I’m a changed man. You changed me when you used me to capture another’s affections, hopping from one bed to another…”

  She couldn’t resist her own taunt. “We never shared a bed.”

  Her words made his mouth snap shut in remembe
red pain. He tried not to clench his fists. He let his hands lay flat against his thighs. He’d never let on how much her words cut him to the quick. Sabine had taken great pains to keep his passions subdued, nothing more than a few dizzying kisses. He’d behaved like a gentleman, while all along she was playing him false and for a fool.

  “Were you sharing his bed while teasing me? Did you laugh at my chasing after you like a whipped puppy?”

  Sabine’s eyes narrowed on his. “I did not share a bed until I married”-

  -”So Orsini was the man you eloped with. Your father would not tell me his name.”

  Sabine looked at the floor. She brushed her brow with delicate gloved fingers and sighed. She slowly raised her head and looked directly at him. “What good does it do to rake over the past? I cannot change it, nor can you.” She looked up at him, the blue of her eyes flashing dark as if a storm was approaching. “I can’t make up for the hurt I caused you, but I can avenge my father with your help. Will you do it? If you cannot do it for me, then at least for him”

  He couldn’t look away from the appeal in her eyes. Tension gripped him. For some reason, he knew this decision would be a turning point in his life. He should say no and deny her what she so badly wanted, just as she had denied him all those years ago. But he was a man who wasn’t used to denying himself anything. And right now, he desperately wanted her.

  Keeping his voice even he said, “I’ve explained the terms of my wager. Did you think I was joking? If I win the tournament, you must agree to become my lover for as long as I desire it of you.”

  Before she could bat it away, a rush of excitement flared and skittered through her body. His lover! Something she’d forever longed to become. Her heart thudding, Sabine swallowed the urge to willingly agree to his request. She had others to think of, her son for one. One of the reasons she had sought out Marcus was she’d thought he’d not want anything from her. She had hoped he’d agree to help her because of her father. However, she’d never dreamed he’d want her in his bed. He had no trouble finding willing lovers.