Strictly Forbidden

by Shayla Black

  Then there was his greatest fear: complete loss of self-control.

  He’d tried to refuse Kira tonight. God knows he had. He’d even managed to utter the word no once. But her nearness overpowered him, overcame his senses, his reason, his very restraint. She washed over him like an aphrodisiac until he knew nothing but the need to taste her, to have her.

  His inability to tether his baser urges with Kira made any possibility of self-discipline in the future seem bleak. Kira herself was already scandalous enough. But what would happen if—no, when—this lust caused him to fixate on even more improper subjects someday? Who knew how slippery the slope to becoming a voluptuary of the first order?

  Given that, it was unfair of him to remain near Kira, too tempted to resist when she came near, yet not wedding her, despite their intimacies. Darius had been right on that score.

  And Gavin did not want to court Kira’s eventual despair and hate any more than he already had.

  She rolled toward him and placed a gentle kiss on his mouth, interrupting the turmoil of his thoughts. She appeared both confused and afraid. He looked away, feeling like the lowest kind of heel.

  “You… do plan to marry me, don’t you?” she asked.

  Every note of her voice held her apprehension and her yearning to be with him. Something in his chest clenched. He would rather someone flog him than listen to that voice. It betrayed the fact he had hurt her. And worse, he would do it again before the night was through.

  Gavin rubbed a hand across his tired face and stared at the flat white ceiling. This was a bloody mess.

  Do you recall me telling you that love will drive a man to reckless acts in the name of claiming his lady? Gavin remembered Brock’s words. How desperately he wanted to believe that love, not a tradition of salaciousness, drove his urges to hold Kira. But his father had taught him better. Soon, another woman would make him need to bed her to the exclusion of reason and decency. Then another. Eventually, the total would be in the dozens or hundreds, his name—and the family’s would be in ruin—and the ton would gossip that he was his sire’s likeness in most every way. And God, what if there was a day the desire was no longer confined to that which most men considered acceptable. Bedding a woman, even a loose woman, was one thing, but a—

  No. He would not travel that path. The key to avoiding the journey was to avoid the first step.

  Kira.

  How could he do that when he wanted her with every breath he took, yearned to be with her so much that it ripped his guts in two?

  He must—somehow.

  “I—I…” Lord, could he even get the words out? He sighed, gazing up into her eyes, frustration and a pain he could not deny wracking him. “I cannot marry you.”

  Mouth agape, Kira sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “But—but James and I are no longer… My engagement is ended, and—and I thought after your dealings with Lord Vance that you meant to clear my name so that we might…”

  “No,” he forced himself to say. “I wanted him punished for what he did to you.”

  She backed away from him, betrayal twisting her features. “Then—then you never intended to marry me?”

  Gavin forced himself to be honest, though he would have given everything to spare her the pain. “No.”

  “But—but you said in Cornwall that you had something particular you wished to say about… that night. I—I thought…”

  “I meant to apologize and explain that I could not—” Lord, he did not want to say this. “That I could not marry you.”

  The pain on her face went straight to his heart. She turned to scramble from the bed, but he grabbed her hand.

  She paused, eyes filled with anguish. Lord, what could he say to make her understand, to ease her pain? Admitting his lack of control around her would be admitting his greatest weakness. It scared him, shamed him. Voicing it would only make it more real.

  “Is it the scandal?” she whispered, drawing her hand back. He noticed then that tears shimmered in her eyes. “With Lord Vance’s terrible activities exposed, I thought—”

  Wishing the truth would not cause her pain, he whispered, “You may have more sympathy now, but ruined is ruined, Kira. I’m no longer certain anything can fix that.”

  Kira drew her knees up to her chest. “Marriage would dim the scandal.”

  “Eventually, but my family has endured its fair share. I cannot, in good conscience, bring more to our doorstep and put them through difficulty so that I may be happy.”

  While that was true, it was hardly the whole truth. But that he could not share with her—with anyone.

  “I suppose my—my mother prevents you from offering for me.”

  Gavin didn’t like the dimming note in her voice, the silent tears that quivered in her lashes.

  He caressed her shoulder. She bristled and leaned away, rebuffing him. Though he deserved her response, he did not like it. Without further comment, he dropped his hand to his side.

  “I cannot deny that such a heritage would make any man of consequence think twice.” Though personally, he cared much less than he once had. Her exotic, whimsical ways were a part of her charm—and his downfall.

  “Of course.” She nodded. Tears began to fall.

  “Kira, marriage to me would only make you unhappy. As a mere miss, you’re often the subject of unpleasant gossip because of your Persian mother. As a duchess, you would be talked about more often, likely in ways that only hurt you further.”

  Kira looked stunned by his words. “With you by my side, I could endure—”

  “You say that now. But what happens when someone like Lady Westland or Mrs. Baycliffe malign you or your mother or both? You cannot confront everyone in the ton nor leave each social gathering in tears.”

  “You are unfair!”

  “I am right.”

  Wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hand, Kira avoided his gaze. She looked stiff and fragile…and defeated.

  In that moment, Gavin resented his father and all his libidinous ancestors. If not for their legacy of lust, he might risk casting aside convention and marry Kira. He wanted to so badly. He would even be willing to slay the social dragons of London if he thought they could be truly happy. But if he did wed her and his affliction grew into a terrible beast, he would only hurt and humiliate her in the end, as his father had his mother.

  So he must refuse her now. His only contentment was the knowledge that Kira, beneath her soft exterior, was a strong woman. She would go on to make a new life without him.

  “Clearly, you never cared for me.”

  Gavin sat up beside her, drilling his gaze into her. “That is not true. I do feel more for you than any other,” he confessed, voice hoarse. “I care for you. I wish—” No, he could not tell his wishes. They would never come to pass.

  He shook his head. “I do care. It is simply not enough.”

  Confusion and disillusionment shaped her features as tears ran in silent silver paths down her face. “What is more important than love?”

  Explaining his reasons would be impossible, for she would never understand, even if he weren’t too ashamed to tell her.

  He sighed. “In this case, almost everything.”

  Kira reared back, sitting up so stiffly Gavin thought her spine might shatter. “Well, that sums up everything, I suppose.”

  She extracted a blanket from his bed and retrieved her nightdress, turning away to don it. Gavin saw only the smooth expanse of her bare, golden back and a hint of her buttocks. He didn’t need to see more to want her again, though. Damnation!

  “I shall leave as soon as my brother returns.”

  Reluctantly, he nodded. “I hope it eases you to know that I wish things could be different.”

  In silence, she wound her hair atop her head in a knot. “It tells me you’re not the man I thought you were if you cannot heed your heart, and I am better off without you.”

  Before he could protest—though how he could defend himself, Gavin did not kno
w—Kira tossed the blanket back to his bed and exited the room.

  He wanted to call her back, wanted to promise her anything to stay.

  Anything except marriage.

  Kira left, the soft click of the latch deafening in its finality.

  It was over, and it was for the best. Gavin wondered why it bloody didn’t feel that way.

  Equally distressing, Kira would remain beneath his roof, a constant temptation, until Darius returned from Cornwall. How the hell could he manage to stay away from her?

  Gavin stood. He paced to a window and opened it, glad for the brisk air that barreled through, clearing his head.

  Soon, an idea tumbled through his head. Maybe he would not have to resist Kira. Maybe he could distract himself. Yes. And almost certainly the notion taking shape in his head would ensure she wanted nothing more to do with him.

  And he need only ask one simple question…

  * * * *

  Gavin felt like hell when he called upon Cordelia the following afternoon. If he’d had more than ten minutes of sleep last night, none of them had made him feel rested today.

  Still, he knew what he must do.

  “Back from Birmingham?” she asked, greeting him as she reclined on a little blue settee in her parlor. He sat in a plump yellow and white striped chair opposite Cordelia.

  The golden arch of her brow over glittering azure eyes told him she did not believe a word of the story he had circulated before leaving for Cornwall with Kira.

  Blast it all, he could not afford to have Cordelia angry with him—not today. Too much was at risk.

  “I did not go to Birmingham, as you well know. James did his best to assist another needy soul and became lost. Aunt Caroline sent me to fetch him. I simply did not say so because I did not want to embarrass him.”

  It was a lie, and Gavin felt it all the way to his toes. But he swore to himself this one would be the last he ever told Cordelia.

  “I see. How odd that Miss Melbourne chose that same time to go away. Back home, was it?”

  Splendid. Now what? If he told the truth, no telling how this appointment would end.

  “Miss Melbourne will not be wedding my cousin, and is therefore no longer my family’s concern.”

  That got her attention. “Really?”

  “Indeed. She expressed just yesterday”—or rather, last night in bed— “that she had every intention of returning home.”

  “Did your cousin finally recognize her for the wanton commoner she is?”

  Gavin gritted his teeth. “Kira Melbourne is a gentle, good person, innocent of Vance’s lies.”

  Cordelia leaned closer and frowned. “And how do you know—”

  “Do you wish to talk about my cousin’s former fiancée or hear what I’ve come to say?”

  Pausing, Cordelia clearly mulled the situation. Then she nodded. “I will listen.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a sigh, Gavin stared at Cordelia. He knew he should kneel down, but he could not bring himself to do it. He sat and regarded her with a direct gaze.

  “For some years now, we have been…friends.”

  “Indeed,” she drawled.

  “I respect you a great deal. You are a woman of social grace, good breeding, and superior judgment. We move in the same circles, even share some common investment in the T and S Railroad. I feel comfortable with your companionship.”

  “I see.”

  She appeared completely collected, even slightly bored. But Gavin saw the hint of a smile playing at her mouth.

  “I realize you receive offers of marriage regularly.”

  “I do.”

  Gavin nodded, exhaled, then pressed on. “Are you, perhaps, amenable to discussing a—a marriage between us?”

  The smile he only sensed earlier emerged, brightening her pale countenance. The sun slanted in thorough the windows, and with her smile he also noticed a smattering of pale freckles across her nose. He did not like freckles. Kira had not a one.

  Damn it, he had to stop thinking about her.

  “I am not only amenable,” Cordelia said. “I am willing to accept. You represent everything I wish in a husband, now that I am in a position to choose my own.”

  That was quick. Much quicker, in fact, than Gavin expected. And he had not had to ask, really. Or kneel. Or profess undying love. Kira would have wanted all three. Truly, he was better off here. And soon, whatever melancholy had gripped him would dissipate so that he could rejoice in his good fortune.

  “Splendid. Shall we plan to commence our… union on June fourteen, Tuesday next? Will that give you adequate time to prepare?”

  “Indeed. I hope to be the most gracious Duchess of Cropthorne ever.”

  Gavin forced himself to smile. Marriage to Cordelia wouldn’t be so terrible. He did enjoy her company, her wit. And she would, indeed, make a most gracious duchess. She would bring a great deal of respectability to the family while helping him to repress his unreasonable lust, thereby avoiding scandal.

  “I believe you will.” He nodded, wishing he could be more enthusiastic. “Because I’ve had no time to discuss my intentions with my family, I ask you to wait a few days before speaking to anyone of our engagement. I should like them to hear the news from me, not party gossip.”

  Her mouth tightened for a moment. “As you wish.”

  “Thank you.”

  Now that his future was settled, he rose to depart, conscious of the fact his palms had been sweating. Why did he feel as if he’d just made a move he would regret?

  “Leaving already?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I must see to some business, then I should like to find my family and inform them—” and Kira— “of our upcoming nuptials.”

  “Capital notion.” She nodded, her pale curls tickling her temples. “But might I persuade you to sit beside me for a spell?”

  What did she want? Gavin tensed. “Of course.”

  Slowly, he made his way to her side. Stiffly, he lowered himself beside her, peering at her with a question in his gaze.

  Could he be married to Cordelia for the rest of his days? Could he sire children on her? Lord, he had never even kissed her, never had the urge to.

  Kira had roused his interest—and more—instantly.

  Bloody hell, he must stop thinking about her.

  Cordelia laughed. “You need not be nervous now. I accepted.”

  Gavin forced a smile in return. “Yes, you did.”

  And what would become of them? He pushed the question aside. He would wed her. Together, they would be the toast of London. Kira would return to Suffolk—

  Lord, there she was again. Why could he not get her out of his mind?

  “Do you plan to leave without kissing me?”

  The question could not have stunned Gavin more if she had hit him between the eyes with her fan. He looked at her mouth. It was pink and plump. It could be deemed pleasing. Certainly Cordelia did not lack beauty.

  Close your eyes and kiss her, he told himself. How difficult could it be?

  “I’m not certain that is proper,” he said instead.

  Her soft, trickling laughter filled the room all the way to the ceiling. “Gavin, really. We are engaged. I am a widow, a woman of some…experience. Though you’ve never chosen to tie the knot in the past, I doubt very much that you are an innocent.”

  Not in the least. “You—you’re right.”

  In fact, he could lay her out on the settee and kiss her senseless without raising too many brows at this point. But the idea seemed oddly unsettling.

  He looked at her again. She truly was a beauty, and calm-headed, collected, regal—everything to admire in a woman. She would never ask him where his heart was.

  Besides, how could he know if he would like kissing her before he even tried?

  Taking a deep breath, Gavin leaned toward her and anchored a hand upon her shoulder, more to steady himself than her. He watched as she closed her eyes and leaned toward him. Just before their lips met
, he saw a hint of a blue vein running beneath her left eyelid. He shook off the observation as they began to kiss.

  The first touch of her mouth brought…nothing. She smelled faintly of tooth powder and summer breezes and raspberries. He detected no hint of delicious vanilla—

  Stop it! Gavin ordered himself.

  He rededicated his efforts to kissing Cordelia. This time, closing his eyes. Ah, that was better. No blond hair to distract him from the image of jet curls coiling around his hands—

  No, this was Cordelia. No one else.

  Her lips were firm, slightly moist and parted. Then she sighed and brushed her mouth over his.

  She was by no means bad at kissing, but Gavin could not deny that he wished himself elsewhere. And wished it violently. Perhaps he should think of Norfield or—or the races at Ascot. Yes, that would get the blood pumping.

  But he was only conscious of the fact Cordelia parted her lips beneath his, inviting him inside.

  The last place he wanted to be.

  Then she laid her hand upon his thigh.

  Gavin all but jumped off the settee. Surely he had someplace he must go.

  “Time to dash off. Family obligations and whatnot. We’ll discuss jointure and pin money and all that another time.”

  “But—”

  “Good to see you,” he said.

  Then he dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek and nearly ran out the door.

  Outside, Gavin took a deep breath and mounted his horse slowly. He was sweating, despite the gentle June breeze.

  Well, that went swimmingly. He sighed in disgust as he rode away. Cordelia was a perfectly wonderful, attractive woman. Why could he not enjoy her kiss?

  Well, he had not thought of Cordelia and sex in the same breath before. His respect for her was so great that imagining her as a lover was a shock. And a proper woman like her did not display unseemly passions.

  Gavin discarded each excuse as feeble. The fact was, Cordelia did not attract him in that way. He certainly would not worry about Cordelia inflaming the cursed Daggett blood that ran through his veins, for she had not inflamed him in the least. And perhaps that was good. No man should want his wife too much. Marriage was business, after all.