A soft moan escaped her at his tantalizing devil’s sorcery. At the sound, he left off tasting her nipple and took her mouth again, his kiss turning suddenly hot and hungry. The unexpected fierceness of it dredged a raw whimper from deep in her throat.
Involuntarily her hands rose to press against his shoulders. Then, suddenly, the spell between them shattered. Lord Sin abruptly seemed to recollect himself and inexplicably broke off his kiss.
Brusquely, he pressed his forehead against hers and gave a ragged laugh, as if straining for willpower. A wave of disappointment crushed Vanessa. She hadn’t wanted his embrace to end-nor had he, it seemed.
He drew a measured breath, but his husky voice held a raw edge when he spoke. “Forgive me. I momentarily forgot myself.”
His beautiful, chiseled face came into soft focus. Vanessa stared at him, torn between dismay and desire. Never had she had such a primal reaction to a mere kiss.
“I think you vastly underestimate your charms, sweeting. If you can inflame me without trying, I have no doubt you will make an apt pupil.”
Vanessa felt a surge of shame at the unnerving, inexplicable response he’d drawn from her. Only a wanton would desire such a man.
It was impossible to recover her dazed senses abruptly, but she made an effort to collect herself. She couldn’t look at Lord Sinclair as she fumbled with her disheveled bodice, or when he gently pushed her hands aside and solicitously aided her in covering her bare breasts.
Vanessa accepted his assistance grudgingly. She should be grateful he had ended his embrace before it went too far, for she’d been helpless to resist. She would have let him have his way with her, given him whatever he demanded.
He must have sensed her discomfort, however, for he rose from the chaise and moved an easy distance away.
“Perhaps we should discuss the particulars of our arrangement,” he said casually. “I hope to leave for the country within the week, just as soon as I can employ a companion for my sister. I should like you to accompany me.”
With effort, Vanessa dragged her attention back to the matter between them. She had agreed to be Lord Sinclair’s mistress.
“Where do you plan for me to live?” she asked in a low voice, although loath to contemplate such an irrevocable step.
“I can set you up in a house not an inconvenient distance from my estate.” When she hesitated, his mouth curved cynically. “I shall, of course, provide a carriage and horses for you and assume any other expenses.”
He thought she was bargaining for greater remuneration, Vanessa realized. “Having a carriage was not my concern, my lord.”
“No?”
“I was thinking of appearances. If you furnish me a house and carriage, the world will know I am your mistress.”
“I imagine so,” he murmured guardedly. “That is the usual way of things. But if you have a better suggestion, I am willing to listen.”
“It is not only my reputation I must consider, but my sisters’ as well. They will only suffer, perhaps irreparably, because of my… relationship with you.”
When he glanced at her, the gray eyes had lost warmth. “You wish to renege on our bargain already, angel? If so, it is still not too late to change your mind. You have only to walk out that door.”
“I have no intention of reneging, my lord. But I should like to repeat my original offer. I am willing to serve as companion to your sister. It will provide an excuse, however thin, for my presence in your district. And I believe I could truly be of help to her.”
Damien frowned, but he repressed his first inclination to dismiss her offer out of hand. He’d been urgently searching for a companion for Olivia, it was true. But he hoped to hush the scandal of her aborted elopement as much as possible. With that end in mind, he’d planned on hiring the strictest, most respectable governess he could find, one with an unimpeachable reputation. Yet a more worldly woman might be more sympathetic and accepting of Olivia’s circumstances. And Vanessa Wyndham was already privy to the sordid details.
“I’m not sure you comprehend the difficulties you would face,” he said skeptically. “Olivia is completely bedridden. She suffers from despondency as well as paralysis. To act as her companion would require the patience of a saint.”
“I understand, my lord, and I assure you, I’ve learned to cultivate patience over the years. As I said, I have experience caring for my invalid mother as well as my sisters. And,” she added quietly, “while it might prove little consolation to you, I should like to try to make amends for my brother’s vile actions.”
Damien walked over to the window, where he stood staring down at the elegant thoroughfare that ran in front of his London mansion. His sister was the one truly good thing in his jaded world. Yet he had failed her, leaving her upbringing to the tender mercies of servants. He intended to try to make up for the years of neglect. And he would do anything-anything-to help her recover from her paralyzing accident.
Perhaps the lovely Lady Wyndham was right. Perhaps she might actually be able to help Olivia. And if she managed to salvage her reputation in the process, all the better. He couldn’t blame her for wishing to protect her sisters. If he were honest with himself, her willingness to shield her family, even at the cost of great personal sacrifice, was a prime reason he was drawn to her.
“I suppose,” he said slowly, “that we could put it to the test. You could stay at Rosewood as companion to Olivia for a trial period, a week or two, perhaps. We can always change the arrangement if we find it doesn’t serve.”
Vanessa let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. If she could conceal a shameful liaison with Lord Sin behind the decorous guise of companion, she might at least retain a shred of reputation.
“Naturally,” he added after a moment’s thought, “it would be best to conceal the fact that you’re Rutherford’s sister. Olivia most definitely doesn’t need to be reminded of him.”
“Of course. But I doubt she knows of my relationship to him. Aubrey says they never discussed his family in any detail, and my married name is different from his. Some of your neighbors, however, might make the connection and tell her.”
“They wouldn’t have the opportunity,” Sinclair responded. “Olivia is bedridden and refuses to receive anyone.”
“Perhaps then you could simply say that as a widow of limited means, I’m required to seek a position.”
She saw Sinclair glance at the ormolu clock on the mantel. “That reminds me… I’m late for an appointment with the employment agency. They have several candidates for me to interview. I was about to set out when you arrived.”
She eyed him with a frown. “I thought you said you had an appointment with your tailor.”
“I prevaricated, I admit.”
“Do you do that frequently?”
He flashed a wry smile that was edged with effortless male charm. “I didn’t wish to tarnish your staunch opinion of me as a libertine.”
Unwilling to let herself be charmed any further by this man, Vanessa realized it was time to take her leave. “Pray don’t let me keep you any longer then,” she said, rising to her feet.
“I will ring for a servant to show you out,” he offered.
“I can manage to show myself out, my lord.”
“Under the circumstances, I think we may safely dispense with the titles, don’t you? My name is Damien.”
“Very well… Damien.”
“I like the sound of that on your lips.”
At his provocative tone, she sent him a sharp glance. He was deliberately reminding her of their recent intimacy.
Vanessa gave herself a fierce mental shake, not wanting to remember the taste of his kiss or the sensation of his hot mouth on her breasts. Such lascivious behavior was so unlike her. She’d never been aroused by her husband, not once in their endless year of marriage. Carnal relations had been a duty, an extremely unpleasant one. And she felt sure she would find it just as unpleasant to surrender to a dissolute rake like Lord Si
n, no matter how skilled he was at lovemaking and charming the fair sex.
Her thoughts were thus preoccupied as she moved to fetch her pelisse, so that when he came up behind her, she flinched.
“Easy, sweeting,” he murmured in a tone he might use to soothe a frightened mare.
With great reluctance, she accepted his aid in donning her pelisse, and when he turned her to face him, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, she stood tensely before him.
She wanted to flee, to escape his overwhelming nearness, but he would not let her draw away. Instead he stood looking down at her, holding her captive with his penetrating gaze.
“Be assured, I don’t intend to harm you, Vanessa,” he vowed softly. “I am merely going to seduce you.”
Vanessa felt herself flush. Harming her and seducing her would be one and the same, she had little doubt. Lord Sinclair was a boldly sensuous man, dangerous, fascinating.
He would prove her ruin, she feared.
She wondered if he would demand another kiss, or worse, but thankfully he released her. Without replying, she made her escape.
When he was alone, Damien returned to the window to watch thoughtfully. A moment later he saw Lady Wyndham emerge from the house and descend the front steps, her hood drawn around her face to protect her anonymity.
The driver handed her into the hackney, then climbed aboard and set the team in motion. Yet long after the carriage had faded from sight, Damien remained where he was, staring down pensively, his thoughts in a strange turmoil.
What the devil had he gotten himself into? He hadn’t meant for events to unfold as they had. The last thing he needed just now was a mistress to complicate his life. Certainly not the determined, defensive elder sister of the man he’d sworn to destroy.
He had given the lady every chance to refuse his offer, expecting her to back down from his outrageous proposal. Yet he had to confess pleasure at the prospect of her fulfilling the wager. Intense pleasure.
Damien shook his head in bemusement. When was the last time he had felt such anticipation? The last time his pulse raced at the mere thought of having a woman in his arms, the way it did with Vanessa Wyndham?
“Forever,” he murmured to himself.
It had been an eternity since anyone had made such an impression on him, if indeed ever. He had tasted the charms of Europe’s most beautiful women, and no one had intrigued him quite the way Vanessa Wyndham did, with her stunning combination of defiance and vulnerability and beauty. It was remarkable, the hunger she roused in him so effortlessly.
Briefly he shut his eyes, remembering the taste of her, the delicious feel of her ripe breasts straining for his touch… and his own wild reaction. A simple embrace had inflamed him beyond reason. He’d nearly lost his head, his blood surging thick and hot. Even now the memory affected him.
Damien stiffened as heated images of her flickered before his mind’s eye. He envisioned her naked in his bed, lush and wanton, arching against him as he explored the mysteries of her silken body…
The sensual image set him on fire.
“Have a care, man,” he muttered under his breath. Roughly he locked his jaw against the sudden, painful swelling in his loins.
But then his unexpected arousal had a likely explanation. It had been weeks since he’d enjoyed a woman- weeks spent at his country estate in Warwickshire keeping his injured sister company. He wasn’t accustomed to abstinence. The exquisite Silver Swann had been the last warm body in his bed, in a long line of warm bodies, and he’d been forced to abandon her abruptly when he learned the news of his sister’s crippling fall.
In apology, he’d instructed his secretary to send the actress an emerald necklace to match the bracelet he’d already given her, with a charming note implying that she should find herself another protector. He hadn’t had the opportunity-or, frankly, the desire-to touch another woman until his lovely visitor this morning…
His thoughts again claimed by Vanessa Wyndham, Damien abruptly turned away from the window and gave the bellpull a sharp tug to summon his secretary.
What the devil is so special about her? Why he should find the lady so provocative, so enticing, particularly considering her obvious dislike-perhaps even fear-of him was beyond rationalization.
But he wanted her. And he intended to have her.
His motives were not particularly noble, he admitted. His first base impulse had been to ruin Rutherford’s sister the way his own had been ruined. Forcing Lady Wyndham to serve as his mistress would be a fitting-if incomplete- vengeance.
But that was before he’d kissed her, tasted her…
Damien frowned, wondering why his conscience should suddenly stab him. Was there really any need for him to feel contrition? At her pleading, he’d given up a fortune and the chance to destroy his sister’s seducer. And despite her reluctance, Vanessa Wyndham had bargained herself like any courtesan, traded her body for the chance to save her family.
His concession was more than generous.
And while he was more than willing to seduce her, he had no intention of forcing her to share his bed. In the first place, the appearance of her ruin in her brother’s eyes was far more important than her actual ruination. No matter how dissolute and reckless young Rutherford was, he wouldn’t relish the thought of his sister in the role of mistress.
In the second, Damien reflected, he’d never had to force his attentions on any female. He felt certain he would manage to turn her aversion to enchantment, her reticence to willing surrender.
And that had suddenly become of prime importance to him.
He wanted her willing, wanted her pale, perfect body hot and wanton beneath him. He wanted to hear his name tremble on her lips. He wanted her…
There would be difficulties, of course, in the unusual arrangement they’d agreed upon, with her living in his ancestral home alongside his young, innocent, invalid sister. Certainly he couldn’t advertise that she was his mistress. In fact, his seduction of the lady would be more complex than any affair he had ever embarked upon. But every primal instinct told him the effort would be worthwhile.
“Indeed, a prize worth winning, my angel.”
Damien’s mouth curved in a half-smile. It would be a war of wills between them, he had no doubt. But he looked forward to the challenge of penetrating the lovely Vanessa’s defensive armor.
He would find great pleasure in teaching her about satisfying a man’s desires-and about satisfying her own.
Chapter Four
Lulled by the sway of the well-sprung traveling coach, Vanessa allowed herself to relax against the velvet squabs. Seven hours of enforced intimacy with Damien Sinclair had taken a toll on her nerves.
They had spoken little on the journey north from London. Upon joining him in the carriage this morning, she had sensed his need for silence and readily complied. Now, however, Vanessa turned her head to observe her traveling companion. He was staring out the window at the passing Warwickshire landscape, engaged in his own private thoughts.
It was a mistake to regard him too closely, she realized. His handsome, noble profile still had the power to make her heart flutter, reminding her once again that she was out of her element in dealing with him.
For the hundredth time, Vanessa wondered what madness had led her to strike a wanton’s bargain with such a man. She had no illusions that he truly wanted her for his mistress. Far more likely, he wanted her as a pawn in his game of revenge.
She could understand his desire for vengeance, certainly. He wanted to strike back at the man who had seduced his sister, Vanessa knew, and she was a convenient tool. But she would make him regret forcing her to pay for her brother’s sins, she promised. He would not find her the submissive puppet he thought her.
His mood had seemed to darken as they drew closer to his country estate. But they were nearing their destination now, and she still knew little about the situation to which she had committed herself.
For a moment her own gaze lingered on the
enchanting pastoral scene outside the carriage. The rolling English countryside was a patchwork quilt of crop fields and emerald green meadows, embroidered with hedgerows and copses of woodland. In the distance, draft horses lumbered along narrow lanes, past peacefully grazing sheep and cattle.
Finally, however, she summoned the courage to speak.
“If I am to be a companion to your sister,” Vanessa said quietly, “perhaps you should tell me something about her.”
Damien stirred, as if suddenly recalling her presence, and shifted his gaze to regard her with storm-gray eyes. “What do you wish to know?”
“What is she like in character and manner? What precisely is the present condition of her health? Anything that will allow me to better deal with her.”
His mouth curved with a hint of bitterness. “Her health? She is presently a cripple. She has no sensation in her lower limbs and will not make an attempt to leave her darkened room, or to use the invalid chair I had built for her. As for her character and manner…” His demeanor softened, as did his voice. “She was always the sweetest child in nature, and she grew into a lovely young lady, generous and unspoiled as one could wish.” He shook his head sardonically. “How that was possible with the Sinclair lineage is beyond me. She must be a changeling.”
Hearing the rough emotion in his voice, Vanessa felt an odd constriction in her throat. Perhaps she’d been mistaken to believe Lord Sin deplored being burdened by his crippled sister. The gentleness in his tone suggested he cared very deeply about her welfare.
It was strange to think of this notorious lord caring deeply for anything but his own pleasure.
He bent his head, rubbing one temple with elegant fingers, as if to ease the pain. “I bear part of the blame for her current misery. I should have been more vigilant in protecting her.”
He was silent for a moment. “I neglected her far too much, I realize that now. Our parents perished in a carriage accident when Olivia was ten years of age, and I took over the raising of her.” Sinclair grimaced. “What the devil do I know about rearing innocent young girls? I saw that she received an excellent education befitting a lady of wealth and rank, but other than the occasional visit home, I rarely saw her. I spent most of my time in town.”
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