The Seduction n-1

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The Seduction n-1 Page 17

by Nicole Jordan


  The girl didn’t reply at once. “Why did you come here?”

  Vanessa looked away. She preferred not to tell Olivia the sordid truth, to reveal Damien’s threat to her family or their shocking liaison, to explain that she had been forced to become his mistress in order to save her mother and sisters from stark penury. Olivia was still too young, too innocent, to be exposed to such bald facts.

  “Because I wanted to help you,” she said finally; at least that was completely true. “I was horrified to learn what my brother had done, and I wanted to make amends.”

  “Then… all along you knew what happened?”

  “Yes. Aubrey told me himself, weeks ago.” Vanessa leaned forward. “If you can’t bring yourself to forgive me for concealing the truth, I will understand.”

  It was Olivia’s turn to look away. “I don’t know,” she said, gazing blindly out the window. “I need time to think about all this.”

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Olivia shut herself in her room, while Vanessa despaired and wondered whether to pack her bags. When she received a summons to join Olivia just before dinnertime, she complied with uncertainty.

  The girl was sitting in her chair, gazing out the window, her expression a little sad.

  “I do understand why you hid the truth from me,” Olivia said, looking up. “If I had known Lord Rutherford was your brother, I never would have spoken to you, let alone allowed you to become my friend.”

  “I am your friend, Olivia,” Vanessa replied earnestly.

  “I know. And I don’t want you to go.”

  The relief Vanessa felt was overwhelming. Before she could respond, however, Olivia spoke again.

  “Did he mean it, do you think?” she asked quietly.

  “Mean what?”

  “He said he fell in love with me. Can I believe him?”

  Troubled, Vanessa hesitated. Aubrey’s declaration of love had startled and shocked her, but while it seemed to have come honestly, from the heart, she found it hard to credit that her reckless, devil-may-care brother would truly have fallen in love. More likely he was acting out of guilt. Still she couldn’t be entirely sure…

  “I don’t know,” Vanessa answered truthfully. “I’m certain Aubrey deeply regrets his actions, but I don’t know if he is really in love. I don’t think he would be so cruel as to fabricate such a lie-but then six months ago I never would have thought him heartless enough to make that despicable wager, either.”

  Olivia’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Do you know the worst part? I want to believe he loves me. Am I ten kinds of fool?”

  Vanessa didn’t know how to answer, but she wasn’t required to. Olivia’s chin rose defiantly, and for a moment she was the imperious baron’s daughter, instead of an innocent young girl betrayed by her lover.

  “If he thinks he can fool me again,” she said fiercely, “he is greatly mistaken.”

  Olivia was quiet that night at dinner, so quiet that her brother asked if she was feeling well.

  The girl’s eyes flickered to Vanessa. “I’m well enough, though perhaps I exerted myself a little too much shopping today.”

  “Would you rather I postpone my trip?” Damien asked seriously. “It isn’t absolutely necessary that I leave tomorrow.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, of course not. You needn’t worry about me. Vanessa will be here to look after me.”

  Vanessa was grateful for her answer. Thankfully she’d made no mention of Aubrey to her brother. Vanessa shuddered to think what Damien might do if he learned of Aubrey’s presence in the district.

  She only hoped Aubrey would have the sense to go home now that he’d had the opportunity to unburden his conscience. He was tempting fate to remain.

  At least Damien would be leaving in the morning, for the better part of a week. She would be vastly relieved, Vanessa acknowledged, by his absence. Perhaps then she would be able to conquer the yearning ache he aroused in her with merely his nearness. To forget the burning enchantment she had known in his arms. To crush her foolish emotions.

  She retired early, but to her dismay, she remained awake, nerves on edge, unable to sleep. After Damien’s avoidance of her these past few days, she didn’t expect him to come to her room that night, although she had prepared for him as on every other night, making use of the sponges he’d provided. Infuriatingly she found herself torn by conflicting desires-half praying he wouldn’t come, half hoping he would. She was determined to give him a cool reception if he did.

  Her heart took up a rapid rhythm when she heard the whisper of the secret panel from across the room.

  She lay unmoving, with her back to him, yet she was palpably aware of Damien’s presence. Moments later she felt the mattress shift as he sat beside her, felt the sensual brush of his hand beneath the veil of her hair, against her nape.

  “I came to say farewell,” he murmured, somehow knowing she was feigning sleep.

  Reluctantly, Vanessa turned over to gaze up at him. In the moonlit darkness she could just make out his hard, virile features. “I wondered what brought you after all these nights.”

  He must have heard the chill in her voice, yet he didn’t reply directly, or give an explanation for why he had stayed away. “Did you miss me, sweeting?”

  Vanessa drew back, stung by his blitheness. “I think you flatter yourself, my lord. I didn’t miss you in the least.”

  He went still, his expression unreadable. “I gather you are piqued at my neglecting you of late.”

  “Hardly,” she lied. “I was glad to be given a respite from your lust.”

  Damien’s smile was ironic. “I suppose I owe you an explanation. I thought perhaps our… association was becoming too heated for my peace of mind.”

  She stared at him, as if wondering whether she could believe him.

  His fingers found her lips and stroked languidly over the sensitive surface. “You are dangerous to my control, Vanessa. I find myself wanting you a dozen times a day.”

  “Fortunately you will soon be able to satisfy your carnal urges with someone more willing. Your Hellfire gathering should provide you ample opportunity for carousing and debauchery.”

  Hearing the accusation in her tone, Damien held her defiant gaze. He had no intention of revealing how terribly vulnerable he was to her.

  Vanessa might be startled to know he had no desire to attend Clune’s house party. He was forcing himself to leave Rosewood in an attempt to distance himself from her.

  Yet he couldn’t go away without being with her just once more, without touching her, holding her. It had shocked him to realize just how powerful his need for her was. He had fought it-fiercely-but he had lost the battle.

  He regarded her silently for a long moment. “Do you wish me to leave you?”

  “And if I said yes?”

  “Then I would try to persuade you to change your mind.”

  Vanessa gazed up at him, mesmerized by the cool fire in his eyes, aware of an undeniable sexual tension between them. She was his mistress, bought and paid for. That had always been the ugly truth between them.

  But it was not her obligation to Damien that made her heart sink with a feeling akin to despair. It was the knowledge of her own defenselessness. He had only to touch her and she melted.

  Just as now. The subtle brush of his fingers on her flesh riveted her, made her tremble. His caress moved lower, down her throat, along the line of her collarbone, dipping beneath the bodice of her nightdress to follow the rising swell of her breast. Vanessa shivered.

  “What must I do to mollify you, sweeting?” he murmured as he softly stroked her skin.

  The tempo of her breathing quickened. She had meant to resist him, but it was futile to think of escaping Lord Sin. In truth, she didn’t want to escape.

  When his knuckles brushed her nipples beneath her nightdress, heat rose to inflame her. She could feel the feverish ache starting deep inside her.

  He knew precisely what his skilled caresses did to her, devil take him.
His gaze locked with hers as deliberately he drew down the covers and rested his hand on her hip, only inches from the center of her desire.

  She began to throb there, a vibrant, urgent pulsating. He was using the pleasures of her own body against her.

  “Shall I go or stay?” he asked.

  She returned his gaze, unable to look away. “Stay,” she whispered involuntarily.

  She saw the fire that leapt in his eyes, saw the determination in his expression, even though he didn’t move a muscle. He meant to turn her reluctance to welcome invitation, she knew.

  With unwilling fascination she watched as he shrugged out of his dressing gown. He was fully aroused, and the magnificence of his nude body took her breath away. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled as he joined her on the bed.

  His face was hard, his eyes burning with intensity as he bent over her. “I want you, Vanessa. Now.” Raw desire darkened his husky voice. “I want your softness clenching and shivering around my hardness.”

  He lowered his head, his fingers threading through her hair. His mouth hovered above hers, its beautiful lines stark and sensual.

  Vanessa fought back a moan as his lips began to caress hers. She could feel her will weakening, feel the uneven beat of her heart.

  “Don’t deny me, angel. Don’t deny yourself…” His whisper filled her mind and stirred a quickening deep within her. His touch felt so right…

  She didn’t protest when he drew up the hem of her nightdress to her waist or when she felt his thick, velvet-smooth shaft pressing against her thigh. Her lips burned beneath his deep, penetrating kiss, while her body quivered at the promise of that hot, rigid flesh giving her pleasure.

  He kept up his sensual assault, stealing her will from her, until she warmed and softened and surrendered to the dark magic he commanded. Unable to disguise how desperately she wanted him, Vanessa threaded her arms around his neck and whimpered, needing him to ease the inexplicable hunger.

  Damien felt her fiery response to his kiss and moved over her, covering her luscious form with his hard one. For a moment he braced himself above her, steeling his body against his raging need.

  “Tell me you don’t want this,” he demanded softly, giving her the choice. “Tell me you don’t want me inside you.”

  She couldn’t say such a thing. She did want him, far too much. She wanted him loving her, filling her…

  When she didn’t reply, he pressed her thighs wide and fit himself to her, thrusting in hard and deep, finding her sleek and hot and welcoming.

  He heard her breath catch in a startled gasp of pleasure as his powerful length filled her. Sheathed tightly inside her, he began to move, withdrawing and thrusting again, until Vanessa arched and cried out, helplessly caught in the web of her own desire.

  Damien captured her soft, wild sounds with his mouth, sharing her desperation, her ravenous need. When she wrapped her legs around him and lifted herself to match his hard rhythm, he drove into her fiercely. Blinding desire overtook him. When moments later she shattered, rigid and lost, he followed, shuddering and spilling his seed deep within her in a burst of explosive ecstasy, his hoarse groans mingling with her cries as he convulsed against her.

  For a long while afterward he lay there, breathing harshly, shock waves still pulsing, his face buried in the sweet fragrance of her hair. Finally, though, he eased his weight from her and rolled onto his back, his skin still sheened with sweat from their wild lovemaking.

  Drawing her into the curve of his body, he stared up at the canopy overhead, cursing himself for letting his passion become so uncontrolled. Hell only knew, he had meant to stay away. He understood all too well the danger Vanessa Wyndham presented. He was perilously close to becoming obsessed with her. Yet he could no more have denied his desire than he could have stilled the beating of his heart.

  His fingers toyed absently with a curl of her darkly burnished hair. Even after sating himself so fiercely, need for her still ran like flame-warmed brandy through his body.

  What the devil was happening to him? He’d had countless women in his admittedly licentious past, but the desire to completely possess one was utterly new to him. He wanted Vanessa Wyndham more than he had ever wanted any woman, and he didn’t know why.

  The depth of his desire was new as well. The gut-wrenching, fiery, primitive need was not only in his loins, but in his entire being. When she was near, all he wanted was to lose himself in her, in the feel of her, the taste of her, to drown in the exquisite pleasure of making love to her. To become part of her.

  Damien shut his eyes. He very much feared he was succumbing to the fatal affliction he’d always despised in other men.

  Despite his best intentions, he was becoming caught in his own seduction.

  Chapter Eleven

  He was gone when she woke, leaving her with memories of dark passion, spent and rekindled again and again. His ardent desire renewing her inner struggle, Vanessa passed the following days desperately fighting the emotions Damien had unleashed in her.

  She thought she would be glad for his absence, yet that was before she persuaded Olivia to accompany her to church the following Sunday morning. Without Damien’s noble consequence to shield her, Vanessa was given a chill reception by the genteel society present.

  Apparently she had made an enemy of Lady Foxmoor. The woman spent the entire service whispering behind her prayer book and casting superior glances in Vanessa’s direction. Afterward only a handful of people troubled themselves to make her acquaintance. The rest pointedly ignored her.

  She should have expected as much, Vanessa realized- for failing to offer proper deference and humility in her role as lady’s companion, for elevating herself to the level of family member, and for daring even to hold a post in Baron Sinclair’s household where she might work her wiles on him.

  Accustomed to scandal from the days of her marriage, Vanessa was more angry on Olivia’s behalf than her own. The girl bore the snubs with trembling grace, hiding her distress well, but she fell into a morose mood as soon as she was seated in the carriage.

  When Vanessa tried to draw her out, Olivia responded with despair. “I told you it was hopeless. My life is ruined! My reputation has suffered irreparably.”

  Realizing Olivia mistakenly thought the disapproval directed at herself, Vanessa started to explain that she was the one their highbrowed neighbors objected to, but the girl had worked herself into a fret and wasn’t listening.

  “If my brother were here, they would not have dared look down their arrogant noses at me-which is the height of hypocrisy, considering Damien’s libertine propensities.” Seeing Vanessa’s troubled expression, Olivia added, “I am not a child, nor am I blind. I’m well aware of my brother’s reputation as a rake. My father was even worse, much worse. Why is it,” she demanded bitterly, “that society can forgive a man any number of peccadilloes, but if a female dares a single misstep, she is ruined for life? It isn’t fair!”

  Vanessa had often wondered the same thing. But there was no use arguing that in a man’s world, a woman simply had to make the best of her lot-especially since Olivia was in no mood to be consoled, then or later.

  That afternoon when Vanessa tried to persuade her to attend her bath, Olivia replied with petulance, “What is the use? Nothing we have tried has made the least difference to my condition. I shall never walk again.”

  “You can’t be certain of that,” Vanessa reminded her gently. “It is still far too early to tell if the damage to your spine is permanent. The doctor said it might be months before you could expect to regain any feeling in your limbs.”

  “He also said I might never recover. If so, then I can never marry, never have children.”

  “Perhaps bearing children would be difficult, but marriage would certainly not be out of the question.”

  “You think not?” the angry young woman retorted. “With my reputation so tarnished, I can never make an eligible match.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “In tha
t you are mistaken. From what I gather, you are a considerable heiress. Reputation or no, a lady with wealth and rank will always have choices. You can still wed if you wish.”

  “What man would want to be tied to a cripple? Your brother would not.” Her mouth trembled, then hardened. “It would serve him right if he were forced to suffer for his cruelty, as I have done. He got off lightly under the circumstances. My brother wanted to kill him, but I made Damien swear he wouldn’t. Lord Rutherford is fortunate to have escaped with his life.”

  Vanessa agreed, but she refrained from divulging that Damien had still managed to exact a revenge. Though he hadn’t killed Aubrey, he had ruined him financially at the gaming tables and put his family at risk of destitution.

  “If I am to be ostracized for my folly,” Olivia added fiercely, “it is only fitting that knave shares in my misery. At the very least, he should be required to bear me company as long as I remain a cripple.” She nodded grimly as she evidently came to a decision. “Is your brother still in the district?”

  “I really don’t know,” Vanessa replied, surprised and wary. “He told me he would remain until he found a way to speak to you, but after your encounter the other day, he might have returned home.”

  The girl’s chin rose stubbornly. “If he is still here, I should like you to find him and give him a message, Vanessa, inviting him to call on me here at Rosewood.”

  “Olivia…”Vanessa began earnestly. “You can’t imagine Damien would countenance such a thing.”

  “Damien doesn’t have to know. Lord Rutherford can come in disguise, and if you are there to act as chaperon, his presence will raise no alarm among the servants.”

  “Still… would it be wise? Revenge is never as satisfying as it is made out to be. Seeing Aubrey again will only prove a torment to you.”

  “Perhaps so, but if he is telling the truth, it will prove a greater torment to him. If he truly feels remorse as he claims, then he can wallow in his guilt. Seeing me in that hateful chair should remind him of the consequence of his heartlessness.”

 

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