Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “If you will excuse me, I see someone I must speak to.”

  “Coward,” he heard Mikala call just loud enough that only he could hear.

  Mack had seen his prey sneak out of the ballroom. More than likely to refresh herself. He watched her disappear up the stairs. Mack patiently waited, tucked away in a hidden alcove beneath the stairs. Almost a quarter of an hour passed before she came back down. Mack deftly moved from his hidden position, took her hand, and pulled her into a room, firmly shutting the door behind them.

  ***

  Cassie looked around the room in appreciation. A massive desk stood sentinel on one end, a fireplace on the other, and bookshelves everywhere else. Regardless of the beauty and richness of the room, Cassie was irritated that Mack had ramrodded her in here.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded of her abductor.

  “I needed to speak with you.”

  “And it could not have been done out there?” She waved in the general direction of the ballroom. “Mikala will be looking for me.”

  “Mikala is playing hostess and will not even realize you are missing for a while longer.”

  “Still, I should be out there. I am the guest of honor,” she threw in his face.

  “And how do you think everyone out there would react when they find out the guest of honor is none other than C. E. Jones?”

  Cassie paused for only a moment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Director.”

  “No?” he asked, moving towards her like a jungle cat would its prey. “Tell me why you attend all those rallies and meetings?” Silence. “Why did an editorial appear in The Times regarding the government’s lack of care of soldiers’ widows and orphans shortly after you met Lady Thompson?”

  “Coincidence,” she shrugged, refusing to look away from him.

  “Is it also coincidence that your mother’s maiden name was Jones? Or that your earnings from the pieces you write go into an account at the Bank of England under the name C. E. Jones-Graham?”

  “Since you seem to already know everything, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to throw you a lavish party so you can preen in front of all your friends that you have figured out the latest great London mystery?”

  “I want you to stop writing the damn articles,” he said with deadly calm.

  “I believe I misheard you. Would you care to repeat yourself, Director McKenzie?”

  “Stop writing the articles,” he ordered.

  “You are not my father, and I have neither a brother nor husband to attempt to dictate to me.”

  “Perhaps that is the problem,” Mack growled and began to stalk her across the room.

  “You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do,” Cassie said, backing up. “As long as people need a voice to be heard, I will continue to write those articles.”

  “Do you understand that people are threatening your life? They are willing to commit murder to get you to stop writing those articles. Do you understand that?”

  “What I understand is that I am bringing notice to things that people do not want to face. I am glad that people are beginning to feel guilty as to how they treat their fellow man.”

  “Are you willing to pay the price to continue on?”

  He had her pinned between the wall and his body. She could see the anger radiating from him and could feel the heat that emanated from his body. Her stomach felt like butterflies had taken up residence. His breath caressed her lips. Cassie looked into his silver blue eyes, fringed in their dark lashes. The scrape she had given him along his cheek had almost healed and disappeared. Her breathing came in spurts. Her heart raced.

  “Are you, Cassie?”

  “Wha…what?” she asked, trying to remember what he had asked her.

  “Are you willing to pay the price?”

  “Yes, Mack,” she whispered, licking her dry lips.

  “Damn you,” he said before brushing her lips with his.

  His lips felt firm against hers. She felt her arms rising, and forced them back down by her side, fisting her hands. He began to nibble at her lips as one might a delicate dessert. She opened her mouth to question him only to find him invading her. His tongue was doing erotic things to the cavern of her mouth. Cassie felt the need to mimic his movements, to counter his every thrust.

  She felt his hands move up and cup her face, tilting her head ever so slightly, allowing him deeper access. Her blood stirred and pounded in her ears. This time when her hands lifted, she did not stop them. She found herself gripping the lapels of his superfine, anchoring herself to his solid form. Cassie stood on her toes to better reach Mack, hooking her right arm about his neck. The next thing she knew, she was floating in the air.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded breaking off the kiss.

  “Getting comfortable,” he muttered before kissing her once more.

  Soft cushions were under her back and legs. Mack sat on the edge trailing kisses down her neck. His large hand rested on her stomach. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Cassie murmured, trying to be the voice of reason in a world gone suddenly mad.

  “Aye, but you are just so bloody irritating.”

  “Do you treat all the women you find irritating like this?”

  “No, just beautiful blondes who seem to get themselves into trouble.”

  “How dare you!” She tried to push up and dislodge him. Instead, he used his leverage to keep her pinned.

  “You see, I’ve learned some lessons from you. Keep your enemy distracted,” Mack said, kissing her deeply once more. “Allow them no opportunity. You see, you just sink deeper into this divan the more you struggle, giving me the upper-hand,” he whispered in her ear, before nibbling at her lobe. “And…”

  “Yes?”

  “I forget,” Mack said with a shrug. “Do you know how long I have wanted to kiss you like this? To see you dressed in finery? I knew beneath those plain frocks you were a beauty,” he boasted.

  “Is that the only reason you’re seducing me? That is what you’re doing isn’t it?” Cassie demanded.

  “Yes. I mean, no,” he tried to say when he saw the look on her face.

  “Well, which is it, director?”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a busy man and I don’t have time for this type of thing.”

  “Then why did you start it tonight? Why did you pull me out of the ballroom?”

  “Because I needed to get this business about you being C. E. Jones taken care of. We needed to talk, and this seemed to be the best opportunity.”

  “I don’t believe you, because we have done very little talking thus far.”

  “Damn,” he said and seized her lips once more, cutting off her tirade.

  Cassie found herself becoming lost in his touch once more. She knew she should fight him off, but she couldn’t help but enjoy this first foray into intimacy, the way his hands were lightly skimming her body. She found it difficult to classify this as a “mere” kiss. This connection of lips and tongues and teeth was life-altering. How could she go a day and not experience this? How would she describe this if she were to put pen to paper?

  The butterfly feeling began tracking lower. That secret place between her thighs was becoming warm and dewy. She found herself pressing her thighs tightly together in an attempt to ease the ache that had begun to form there. Cassie felt Mack’s hand track upwards, while he continued to place kisses along the side of her neck. She inhaled a shocked breath when he gently, but firmly cupped her right breast. He brushed kisses across her upper chest, causing gooseflesh to appear on her skin. Cassie found herself wanting him to do anything with that hand that lay passively against her silk-covered skin.

  He returned his lips to hers, before gently squeezing her supple mound. She gave a squeak that echoed into his mouth, and her back arched, pushing herself more fully into his hand. She felt his thumb moving back and forth over her beaded nipple, making it even more erect, if possible. Cassie was so lost in the
feel of his mouth on hers, and his hand on her breast, that she did not feel him remove her fichu. She also did not realize his intentions until it was too late.

  Mack tugged her dress just enough so that the bounty of her breasts sprang free, the neckline of the gown holding them up for him. “You’re so damn beautiful,” Mack whispered before dropping a kiss on her honeyed globe.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered.

  “Worshipping your body,” Mack replied, lost in the moment.

  “This isn’t normal,” Cassie whispered, referencing the sensations he made her feel, before he kissed her once more.

  “Stop talking. Stop arguing. Stop thinking. Just feel.”

  “But…”

  “What did I say?” He chuckled at the mutinous stare she gave him. “Trust me, Cassiopeia.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I can make you feel things you have never before imagined,” Mack practically purred.

  Cassie could not repress the shiver that ran up her spine.

  “You have five minutes,” she said.

  “I don’t work on deadlines, love.”

  “You do tonight,” she challenged before lifting up and kissing him. This time both his hands covered her breasts. He worked them as a sculptor would work clay. Then he focused on the tips, gently rubbing them between thumb and finger, pinching, and tugging until she could not keep from squirming. He broke off the kiss and all she could do was bite her lip to keep from crying out. Then his tongue and lips were there, where his fingers had been just moments before.

  She scooted up slightly, only to allow him to push her to recline over the arm of the divan. Cassie knew if she were to look down from the ceiling, she would look like a virginal pagan sacrifice. Then he did the most marvelous thing. He laved one erect peak with his tongue before taking it fully in his mouth and sucking. A moan escaped into the room, and Cassie was shocked to realize it had come from her. Then he turned his attention to the other, giving it the same treatment.

  Cassie was enchanted. She felt as if she were enveloped in a fog. Her hands were fisted into the cushions of the divan, and she gripped them harder as she felt a quickening happening within her body. That place between her legs was causing her serious issues. She had read enough scientific texts to know what was supposed to happen. The texts spoke nothing of the feelings that Mack created within her. She felt as if any moment she might explode, she only needed something to free her, to allow her to fly.

  She felt Mack’s hand slip beneath her skirts and begin to glide up her leg. He stopped to caress the back of her calf, then her knee, and finally the outside of her thigh. All she wanted to do was scream for him to not stop. To just do something that would ease the ache. Just when he was moving to where she wanted him most, there was a loud bang.

  Mack threw his body over hers, but this sounded different from the gunshot in the park. In fact, this sounded far worse. This sounded like a door hitting a wall.

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  Chapter 16

  Cassie pushed Mack up and then peeked over the back of the settee. There, in the doorway, stood her father, the Duke and Duchess of Hawkescliffe, and of all people, the Prince Regent. She turned red with mortification.

  “Make them go away,” she muttered to the man beside her.

  “What?”

  “Make. Them. Go. Away,” she repeated, slowly, as if she were speaking to a dimwit.

  “Oh, yes. If you will give us just a moment, we will join you shortly.”

  “You expect me to just blindly turn my back on the two of you?” Sir Graham questioned. “I think that is highly unlikely. You will come out from hiding now. Do you understand? Did you hear me Cassiopeia?”

  “Yes, Papa,” she muttered, defeated. “Get off me, you oaf,” she growled, pushing against his chest and forcing him backwards. She tugged her dress back in place, smoothed her hair, and stood to greet the quartet that had entered the room. She studied the looks on all their faces. Mikala looked as if she could commiserate with her, as if she had lived out this same scenario, and crossed the room, placing a comforting arm around her. Hawkescliffe looked as if he wanted to take Mack outside and throttle him. He would have to stand in line. The Prince looked gleeful, as if he were watching a play unfold before his very eyes. And her father, was that a slight smirk she saw on his face?

  “Director McKenzie and I have business to discuss. Wait outside, Cassiopeia.” Her father’s eyes glinted like when he used to tease her mother, or when he was excited about a new invention.

  “No.”

  “Do as your father says,” Mack seconded.

  “I will not stand aside while the two of you think to decide my future. I am a human, not a piece of livestock to be bartered over.”

  “Cassie,” Mikala tried to intervene.

  “No. They can say whatever they wish in front of me. Better yet, allow me to begin. Nothing happened. Since nothing happened, there is nothing to discuss. Now, I suggest we return to the party.”

  “You are not going anywhere, young lady,” Sir Graham instructed. “Since you refuse to leave the room, Director McKenzie and I shall adjourn to another room, if I am not being too presumptuous Hawkescliffe.”

  “Not at all. In fact, I will join you,” the man said and led the other two out the door. Mack was the last one to leave the room. He glared at Cassie before slamming the door shut.

  “Oh, this is too much,” the Prince said, clapping his hands together.

  “Your Highness, perhaps you would be more comfortable with the other guests, in the ballroom,” Mikala urged.

  “And miss seeing the mighty Stuart McKenzie felled like a giant oak? I think not.”

  “They cannot force me into anything I do not want,” Cassie said, beginning to pace the room. “I will not marry that…that…”

  “Scoundrel, rake, rogue,” the Prince supplied.

  “Yes, Your Highness, all of those. Thank you,” she curtsied before she continued pacing. “He is overbearing, demanding, and irritating. I will not allow him or my father to dictate my future.”

  The door opened and two very solemn men re-entered the room. A third, Cassie’s father, also returned, but he did not look as imposing as the other two. In fact, if Cassie looked hard enough, she could see that smirk once more. Cassie felt Mikala’s arm around her once more, holding her tightly.

  “It has been settled, Cassie. You and McKenzie will be married in three week’s time. That will allow time for the banns to be read.”

  “Nonsense,” the Prince said.

  “Thank you, Your Highness, at least someone is seeing reason. I will not marry that man.”

  “Since this is all very sudden, we can apply to the archbishop for a special license. Mack and Miss Graham can be married before the week is out. Feel free to drop my name.”

  “What?” Cassie’s head snapped around to ogle the Prince Regent as if he were mad. “I thought you were on my side, Your Highness.”

  “You were caught in a situation of sorts, my dear. These types of things must be dealt with before talk spreads.”

  “Who will talk, Your Highness? There are only the six of us present.” Cassie looked horrified when she saw the twinkle in the prince’s eye. “You wouldn’t, Your Highness.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear. Mack, this one is going to lead you on a merry chase.” The Prince chuckled. “Now, I believe I will return to the dancing.” He winked at Cassie.

  “Bloody damn owl,” Cassie muttered.

  “What was that?” the Prince queried, a scowl on his face.

  “I saw an owl this afternoon before the sun had set.” The man roared with laughter. “Your Highness, I do not see how that is in the least funny.”

  “Oh, my dear girl, I don’t know if it is funnier that you bring it up, or that you believe in such silly superstition with scientists as parents.”

  “I have to blame someone or something, and he,�
� she pointed a finger at Mack, “argues back, whereas an owl cannot.” At that moment, the hoot of an owl could be heard faintly in the room. “I want a gun, now!”

  “I must return to the ball,” Prinny said, still chuckling. “You are quite an original, Miss Graham. Don’t ever change.” The Prince paused at the door and looked back into the room. “By the way, I expect to be named as godfather to your first child.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Cassie asked the royal, completely befuddled by this announcement.

  “Oh, I am completely serious,” he said before leaving the room.

  “He is going to go and announce this to the entire group, isn’t he?” Anger roiled through Cassie’s blood. “His Highness is going to go in there,” she pointed towards the ballroom, “and tell the group at large that we were caught in an intimate situation, and now we will be married. Do you know how much I hate you, right now, Director McKenzie? Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? And you!” She turned on her father. “I have always been there for you, why have you chosen to turn on me like this? What did I do that was so wrong?”

  “Gentlemen, could you leave us alone?” Mikala asked the men. Hawkescliffe left willingly, knowing that his wife could calm the other woman down. Her father looked hurt and unsure for the first time since opening the study door. Mack looked like a man about to explode, but he did as requested. There would be time enough for arguments later.

  “Mikala, nothing you can say will convince me to marry him.”

  “I don’t have to convince you. It is going to happen regardless of your wishes.”

  “You don’t understand. I have dreams that I want to fulfill. I enjoy not having to answer to anyone, being independent.”