A Warriner to Protect Her

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A Warriner to Protect Her Page 21

by Virginia Heath


  Those disarming blue eyes narrowed. ‘When my father saw something he coveted, he did whatever he wanted to get it. Often, that meant he used foul means over fair.’

  ‘Are you saying he cheated people?’

  He nodded curtly. ‘He was famous for it. Nobody would do business with him.’

  ‘And now you suffer by default as nobody will do business with you either.’

  ‘Nobody local will. I have found a butcher in Lincoln who will suffer my lamb and another merchant who will take the corn.’

  ‘Suffer? Take? I’ve seen how hard you work and the quality of your stock, Jack. They are hardly doing you a favour.’

  ‘Oh, they are. I assure you it’s taken years to get anyone to do even that much.’

  Years of listening to her father had given Letty a sound understanding of business. ‘Do they pay you market price?’

  ‘Almost.’ The proud gleam was shining out of his eyes and those spectacular shoulders had risen defiantly. He knew he was being fleeced. Knew and accepted it because he had no choice. Further discussion on the topic would likely result in Jack’s lips sealing up tighter than a drum, when for once he was talking, albeit with great reluctance.

  ‘What other morals did your father lack?’

  ‘He could be violent. He had a habit of punching people when he had a drink inside him. That also made him unpopular with the locals.’

  It probably also made him wildly unpopular with his family. Letty feared she knew the answer to her next question already, but wanted to gauge his reaction to it none the less. ‘Did he use his fists on you, too?’

  He shrugged. ‘Better on me than the younger boys or my mother.’

  Poor, loyal, steadfast Jack.

  ‘Is that why she took her own life?’

  ‘Partly—but she was never happy at Markham Manor.’ He raked an agitated hand through his damp hair. ‘I am under-exaggerating. She loathed Markham Manor. She loathed my father. And because we all had the misfortune to be born the spitting image of him, she loathed us, too.’

  Jamie had claimed Jack always had to be responsible. He absorbed other people’s problems unconsciously, seeing it as his place to shoulder them as the head of the family. Hardly a surprise when his parents had let him down so dreadfully.

  ‘Do you blame yourself for her death?’

  He paused, as if giving it some thought for the very first time, then shook his head. ‘No. I blame my father. Plunging herself into the river was far more appealing to her than living the life she had foisted upon her.’

  ‘In what way was her life foisted upon her?’

  Those proud shoulders deflated and his eyes became troubled. Darker. Bluer.

  ‘My mother came from London. Like you. My father charmed her, ruined her and then took her away from the life she loved. They were ostracised from society. My mother never got over it.’

  Another interesting insight into this complicated, stubborn man. ‘You think the same would happen to me?’

  He looked at her grimly. ‘Don’t you see, Letty? Everything about our situation has been fraught with danger from the outset. You have been through a great deal and do not know who to trust. But you trust me and perhaps you’ve fooled yourself into thinking those feelings mean more than gratitude. I cannot, in all good conscience, pursue whatever may, or may not, be between us until your life is normal again and you can see things clearly. It’s not easy being a Warriner.’

  His flippant dismissal of her emotions as being fickle and interchangeable galled. ‘Oh, for goodness sake! I am neither that shallow nor that addled! I know my own mind perfectly well. And as for your claim about it not easy being a Warriner, perhaps you should try being the Tea Heiress for a few weeks. That is not easy either! We all have our crosses to bear, Jack.’

  ‘I should imagine having a great fortune and society practically falling at your feet is a great chore!’ he shot back sarcastically.

  ‘Urrgh! How typical. Now you are tarring me with the same brush I have always been tarred with!’ Gripping the edge of her towel, Letty stood up abruptly and stalked towards the window. She had hoped he would understand or think differently seeing that he actually knew her. But then again, why would he? Jack had always struggled to make ends meet. He had no concept of what being an orphaned heiress was like. If she wanted him to open up to her, then it stood to reason she should entrust him with the same honour.

  ‘Do you know what it is like to be all alone in the world, Jack? I doubt you can even begin to imagine it, because you have your family. Three noisy brothers who are always there for you. You might fight, disagree, rub each other the wrong way, but there is always somebody for you to come home to. To talk to. Since my parents died, I don’t have that.’

  She turned and walked slowly back to her seat, all the while watching him digest the information. ‘But the newspapers always talk of all the parties and balls you attend.’

  It stood to reason he would compare what he thought to be true with her version of the truth. How best to explain it?

  ‘I have a big house in Mayfair. It is filled with servants and fine furniture, I eat the best food, wear the nicest clothes—but it is a house without a heart, Jack. It intimidates people, so they rarely visit. And if they do, it is out of either curiosity or to gain gossip to pass on to their friends about the mythical Violet Dunston who resides within. Sometimes the house feels like a prison, except I am the only inmate.’

  Letty sat down slowly and reached for his hand.

  ‘You already know my uncle is not exactly the model guardian. At best, he has always been indifferent to me. He moved in and fulfilled his legal obligations, but we rarely spoke. Yes, I do go out to balls and parties. I rarely turn down an invitation, but that is not because I particularly enjoy them, it is because if I don’t go to them, I never get to have a conversation with anyone. Except, they are never really the sorts of conversations I would wish to have. You were right when you called them superficial. Everybody believes I live this charmed existence. It never occurs to them that I am lonely or that Violet Dunston is a character I play in public. Nobody wants to see the reality of who I actually am.’

  ‘You’re lonely.’

  This, apparently, was a grand epiphany because he appeared both shocked and horrified in equal measure. Seeing his expression of pity, for her, made her want to weep.

  ‘One never quite knows who to trust. Are they really my friends or is it the fortune which attracts them? Being one of my acquaintances has its benefits. I am famously generous.’

  ‘I thought you had men lining up outside your door to marry you?’

  Letty laughed without humour, because it really would be laughable if she was not on the receiving end of it. ‘They do line up. It’s terrifying. But it’s not me, Letty, that they want. I sincerely doubt any of them truly see me at all. I sometimes wonder if the real me is completely invisible to everyone. It’s the enormous pile of banknotes they see when they look at me which attracts them. You might think I have everything, yet I envy you your riches, Jack. You have three brothers who love you unconditionally, a noisy, cheerful house and a purpose every morning when you get up. I get up alone in the morning, make myself busy with trivialities which bore me senseless and go to bed alone again every single night. It is humbling to learn that I am of such little consequence to people that none of my so-called friends and acquaintances have even noticed I am missing. My uncle picked the perfect time. Christmas is a time for families. And I don’t have one.’

  ‘I never realised your life was like that.’ His fingers had laced with hers somewhere during her monologue and it made her sadder, yet she did not want his pity.

  ‘What do you see when you look at me?’

  He was silent for ages, his thumb gently tracing lazy circles in her palm.

  ‘I don’t see
a pile of banknotes or a superficial spoiled girl.’ His intense gaze finally locked meaningfully with hers. ‘I see the most beautiful woman in the world. I see a woman who never ceases to amaze me. One who rises to every challenge. One who is tenacious and kind, who can laugh at herself and stand up for herself. One who never gives up and who cooks chicken with the feathers on.’ He smiled then, except it was not any normal, everyday smile. It was an intimate, knowing smile. ‘I never see Violet. I only ever see Letty.’

  Something finally fell into place inside her, some misplaced part which had been missing all of her life. With it came her own epiphany. He loved her. She could see it in those fathomless blue depths without him needing to say the words. The words were superfluous anyway. His feelings came out in every solicitous action, every noble deed. Not only that, but she loved him in return. She recognised that now. It was more than attraction and lust, or the need for him to like her. Her heart belonged to him and always would. Every sinew and fibre of her being wanted only to be with him. The knowledge gave her inner strength. New purpose to crack through the noble fortress he hid behind because it was he who felt unworthy.

  She stood and let the towel slither to the floor, watched his eyes widen, then darken with desire as they raked her naked body, even though he remained rooted to his spot in the armchair. Feeling the weight of his stare, she turned and slowly walked towards the bed, feeling every inch the temptress she wanted him to see. When she reached the bed, Letty slid between the crisp, clean sheets and propped herself up seductively on one elbow, making sure the covers only covered her up to the waist.

  ‘Come to bed, Jack.’

  He sat as still as a statue, his eyes locked on her and his breathing erratic. ‘No. I won’t ruin you, Letty.’

  Oh, bless him! she thought as she giggled at his ridiculously noble gesture. ‘Don’t you see, Jack? You can’t ruin me. I could take a hundred lovers and it would make no difference. The majority of my suitors would overlook my lack of virginity in much the same way they ultimately overlook the real me. I’m Violet Dunston, remember. It’s my fortune they want to take to bed. The lack of my maidenhead would hardly deter them—yet it would be such a shame to waste it on one of them when they wouldn’t appreciate it. You would appreciate it, wouldn’t you, Jack?’

  She let him war with himself for a few moments, watched the interesting battle being fought in his expression. The responsible gentleman fought the human man with basic human urges. When he stood up, it was hard to discern which one of them had won. He strode towards her, suddenly appearing quite furious.

  ‘I won’t offer you marriage yet, Letty. I am not a fortune hunter.’

  ‘I don’t recall asking you to marry me, Jack. I’m asking you to come to bed. To make love to me. If anything, you silly, stubborn man, it is me who is intent on ruining you. In fact, if I do it properly, I will ruin you for all other women except me.’

  Then he grinned. It was the same roguish smile which had dazzled her weeks before. ‘You want to ruin me?’

  ‘Indeed I do. I promise not to view it as a declaration of marriage or even a promise of one. I am perfectly happy to wait and see if my feelings for you are real.’ Which of course they were, except the idiot was too proud to see it. He couldn’t accept that anyone would truly want him for the man he was. However, there was no point in arguing with him about it now. Not when his obstinate, responsible mind was made up. If she was going to get her way, then she had to give him another reason to willingly come to her bed. Fortunately, she did not have to make anything up. ‘The truth is, I want you. I want that big, brutish Warriner body on mine. I want your hands all over me. I want to know what it feels like to be bedded by a man who doesn’t care about my money. I want to give myself to the only man who sees the real Letty. And if you don’t take me soon, all of this burning desire that consumes me will send me mad from the wanting.’

  From the heated determined expression on his handsome face, her words might well have hit their mark. His mouth began to curve up slowly. It was all male and deliciously predatory.

  ‘Brace yourself, Letty. You are about to be thoroughly ravished.’

  ‘I am?’

  She rolled languidly on to her back and stretched her arms out on the pillow like a cat enjoying the sunshine, but she could not hide her smug smile of victory. It slid off her face when he dropped his own towel on the floor and she caught her first glimpse of him completely naked. Every inch of him was firm, solid male.

  Every single inch.

  And, good grief, there was a lot of inches to accommodate.

  He saw her reaction and gave her a very self-satisfied, confident smile. ‘Try not to panic, sweetheart. If I do it right, we shall likely both lose our heads and you will have a splendid time in the process.’

  ‘I—I will?’

  His big body slipped under the covers next to her. One strong arm snaked possessively around her hip and tugged her until her body was flush up against his.

  ‘You will. I promise. This Warriner always keeps his word.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Twelve glorious hours to go...

  Jack did not disappoint. From the outset he assaulted her senses with all manner of new sensations, each one a revelation. Just being so intimately aligned, bare skin to bare skin from head to toe, was an experience. His body was solid and unyielding. He was hard where she was soft. Flat where she had curves. Her hands enjoyed shamelessly exploring those masculine planes and her eyes hungrily watched as certain muscles tensed or jumped under her touch. Because she had to, Letty placed her mouth on his chest, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him as she ran her lips over his body.

  Jack was doing some exploring of his own, except his lips followed his fingers everywhere they went. He started with her mouth, kissing her until her body ached for more, then he tortured her by licking and nibbling his way slowly down her neck and shoulders. He stayed longer on her breasts, his clever tongue working her nipples into such a state of arousal that she had to grab his head and hold it in place. But even that did not ease her body’s urgent cravings and Letty found her hips straining to meet his, her legs falling open wantonly in invitation, desperately wishing he would put an end to the delicious torture and fill her body with his.

  He knew what she wanted and denied it. Letty felt him smile as he twisted his hips out of her reach and placed soft kisses over her belly—which did nothing to satisfy her overpowering desires. There were other, better places she wanted his mouth. Her breasts, for example, still ached for his touch.

  She tried to drag his mouth back to hers, but he would have none of it, preferring to trace the outline of her navel with his tongue, and she growled in frustration.

  ‘You’re a wretch, Jack Warriner.’

  His returning laughter was muffled. ‘Why am I a wretch?’

  ‘Because...’

  ‘If you cannot tell me, then how can I know what it is you want?’ His teeth scraped her hip and began to nibble their way down the top of her thigh.

  ‘You know perfectly well what I want...’

  Those lips were torturing the sensitive skin on her inner thigh now. It was a vast improvement on having them on her stomach, but as pleasant as it was, it did absolutely nothing to lessen the ache between her legs. An ache which was causing her to writhe desperately on the mattress. His splayed hands rested on the very top of both thighs, so very close yet still so far away from where she craved them. Her hips bucked instinctively and he stared up at her with the most wicked smile she had seen yet. It was no wonder. From his position he could see all the secret parts of her which remained a mystery to even her own eyes and, heaven help her, she didn’t care one whit.

  ‘Jack...please.’

  He smiled knowingly and dipped his head, and to her complete surprise, and utter mortification, placed a hot kiss there. Instinctiv
ely, Letty went to close her legs, only to find his hold on them made it quite impossible. She tried to sit up, but then his tongue touched something which sent ripples of pure pleasure through her entire body.

  ‘Oooooh...’

  The noise she made came out part-sigh, part-groan, and she quite forgot that she was outraged by the improper intrusion. When his tongue stroked her again intimately, Letty sank back on to the pillows and decided she did not want to fight him. Clearly the man knew exactly what he was doing, so who was she to argue? Within moments, nothing else existed other than his clever mouth on her most secret place and the mounting pleasure that tiny intimate movement was creating. Words would not form, only noises. Soft sighs, urgent moans. One hand plunged into his hair, the other gripped the sheets tight and her heels dug into the bed so she did not move a muscle, fearing if she did he would leave that one, delectable sweet spot she had not known had existed just a few minutes ago.

  Jack could feel the tension build in her body and like the novice she was she fought against it. Her head thrashed from side to side, her hips strained against his mouth, while she hovered on the cusp. Gently, he eased his finger inside her to massage the inner walls of her body. Nobody else had touched her like this.

  Just him.

  If nothing else came of their relationship, he would always be her first and he was going to make sure she never forgot him. He was determined to spoil all other men for her, just as she had ruined him for any other woman. Letty was so warm and wet and tight it made him groan as he stroked her. His own body was screaming for release, but he wanted her to know what pleasure felt like before he stole away her innocence. Yet, it didn’t feel like he was really stealing it from her. She was giving it to him, freely and with such trust it humbled him. When her hips began to buck, he sucked the sweet bud into his mouth and heard and felt her release joyfully. He shifted so that he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, her corkscrew curls were fanned over the pillow and her lips were parted in ecstasy.

 

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