He lay down. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to make you feel that good again. Perhaps even better.”
She bit her lip as she glanced down his body to the hard length of him. “Better?”
How could anything feel better?
“After a little pain at the beginning,” he promised as he rolled over on top of her, though he supported his weight on his elbows. The feel of his entire body pressed against her was wonderful. She felt warm and safe, as if she belonged to him even though she didn’t.
She parted her legs a little further as she nodded her head. “Show me.”
Noah closed his eyes at the innocent invitation. The refrain in his head repeated over and over, slowly, slowly, but he was losing his famous control.
He positioned himself between her legs, the tip of his erection just nudging her sheath. Then he leaned down and kissed her deeply. Just as he began to advance into the welcoming heat of her body, there came a loud pounding at the door.
Chapter Sixteen
Noah didn’t fully comprehend the banging on the chamber door until Marion clutched both his arms and her eyes went wide with terror. “Papa!”
Noah shook his head to clear his addled mind.
“Marion!” Walter Hawthorne’s loud, angry voice pierced through from the hallway. “Marion, what that maid told me better not be true. I’m going to kick this door in if you don’t answer me!”
“What the hell?” In one smooth motion, Noah kicked off the bedclothes and scrambled around for his trousers.
“No,” Marion whispered. “Please!”
Noah paused midway to reaching his pants and turned to look at her. Her brown hair was tangled from his fingers, her skin flushed from pleasure and anticipation. She looked beautiful. She looked guilty as hell.
“Wait…” His mind slowly came clear. How had she known the person at her door was her father? She had proclaimed it was him before Hawthorne spoke. She couldn’t have known unless…
“You planned this, didn’t you?”
The pounding picked up again in earnest, as well as Hawthorne’s angry hollers, but Noah ignored both as he took a step toward the bed where Marion stared up at him.
“Didn’t you?”
“Yes.” She nodded with teary eyes. “Most of it. I didn’t think things would go this far, but I did plan for my father to find you here.”
“Damn.” Noah raised a hand to his spinning head. “You told me you wouldn’t lie to me again and then you did exactly that!”
“No.” She reached out to him, but he backed away from her. “Please, we don’t have much time. Allow him to find you. Let him believe…”
He shook his head. “That you’re ruined. My God, you presented yourself to me not because you wanted me, but because you wanted an illusion.”
That wasn’t true, at least not completely. But he said it to hurt her because he felt strangely hurt that she would use the passionate experience between them to achieve her own end.
“Fine.” He climbed back into the bed to pull the sheet over his lower body as he lay back down on top of her. “Kiss me.”
He ground his mouth against hers, meaning for it to be a punishment, but his body leapt to life when she responded. Even though Noah knew he was bruising her soft lips, she clutched him closer and returned his angry kiss.
Behind him, the door crashed open. It bounced off the wall and Hawthorne uttered a loud, lewd curse. Noah rolled over and put on his best rakish face.
“Oh, hello, Hawthorne.” He pushed the blankets over so Marion could cover herself.
“Papa!” she whispered.
Noah could see her humiliation was real, though the surprise at being caught wasn’t.
“You whore!” Hawthorne burst out, taking a step into the room before he slammed the door behind him.
Noah reeled back in shock. The man had just found him in his daughter’s bed and his first reaction was to call her a whore? Not even bother to confront Noah or threaten to call him out?
“See here,” he began, but Marion had already wrapped the sheet around her and leapt out of the bed.
“Papa-”
“Just like your mother, I always said it.” Hawthorne continued his tirade with flashing eyes as he looked his daughter up and down with a disgusted sneer. “And now you’ve ruined everything!”
Noah pulled his trousers up over his hips and buttoned the lower two buttons before he spoke again. “Don’t blame your daughter, Hawthorne. I came here with the full intention of seducing her. I make it a habit to collect virgins.”
Marion’s eyes darted over to him. For a brief moment he saw the hurt flash in their brown depths before she returned her gaze to her father. “Papa, I don’t know what to say.”
As Noah pulled his mangled shirt back over his shoulders, he stifled a grimace. He had an idea Marion knew exactly what she planned to say to her father. She’d certainly known what to say to him to convince him to participate in her deception.
“You…” Hawthorne turned on Noah with a glare. “Get out. And Marion… get dressed and meet me in the Green Salon in three minutes.”
Hawthorne spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
Noah’s eyebrow went up. Hawthorne had reacted fairly calmly considering he’d just found his only daughter in bed with a man who claimed he’d been using her, but Noah felt the fury coming off the man.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Noah had his back to her as he buttoned his shirt.
When he turned, he was surprised to find Marion had dropped her protective sheet and was standing at her armoire throwing a shift over her head. Unlike many women who feigned embarrassment after they’d made love, she didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Noah was staring at her. He felt his loins contract with unfulfilled need when his eyes moved over the soft curve of her hips, the round fullness of her breasts. He knew almost every inch of that incredible body, and yet it wasn’t enough. Despite her deception, he wanted to finish what they’d started.
“Please go, Noah.”
Her voice was only the shadow of the lively woman he’d come to care for so much. She took a gown from the closet and pulled it over the shift. When she reached around the back to fasten the buttons she let out a quiet grunt of frustration.
In a few steps, Noah crossed the room. With fingers deft from years of practice, he fastened the back of her gown, then turned her to face him. He searched her eyes for some sign of her reasons for tricking him. He found none.
“Why did you do this?”
Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked away. “I’m short of time. Please, go. I’ll find a way to talk to you again, to explain-”
Noah opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again. He was too frustrated to deal with Marion’s explanations at present. “I can’t leave you with your father. He looked ready to kill, Marion.”
She shook her head. “He won’t hurt me. Trust I’ll be safe.”
“I don’t trust your father for one moment.”
Her eyes softened. “You saved me from something terrible and I thank you. And you gave me something…”
Her small shiver sent another jolt of desire through Noah.
“You gave me something unexpected, but a gift nonetheless,” she finished. “I can’t ask you to save me more than you already have.”
“I won’t leave.” He caught her arm and spun her back around to face him.
She shook her head in exasperation. “You’ll only make things worse if you stay. You don’t know him. He’ll bluster himself out. I can take care of myself.”
Noah dropped her arm and stepped back. “You just can’t trust me at all, can you? You can’t let me help you, only use me.”
With a sigh, she dipped her head. “People use people. That’s what you told me.”
A shot of pain edged through Noah like a knife through his heart.
“Very well,” he said, barely tamping down the urge to p
unch the wall.
She refused to meet his gaze, but turned away toward the door. “Good night. And thank you.” Then she was gone.
Uttering a curse, Noah stalked to the window and swung out on the ledge. He had been used and it made him feel things he’d never felt before. Helpless, foolish. Had he made others feel this way? He’d certainly manipulated his fair share of people, though his intent had never been unkind.
With a shake of his head, he began crawling down the tree trunk. When he hit the ground, he hurried to Phantom and rode. The wind on his face did nothing to cool his anger. How the hell had he let things go so far with Marion? And why had she felt so compelled to lie and entrap him?
He’d thought they were growing closer, but perhaps that was part of her lie, as well. From her reactions there was no doubt she desired him, but that wasn’t the same as trust. That wasn’t he same as…
He slowed his horse with a startling though he couldn’t help but voice. “Wasn’t the same as what… love?”
Ridiculous. He needed a drink. Probably several. Hell, the whole bottle. Tomorrow he’d go back to Toppleton Square and make the arrangements for Marion’s future. He’d buy her freedom and send her to her aunts. Once she was gone and safe from her father’s cruelty and Lucas’s crude attentions, he wouldn’t have those troublesome questions in his head. He could go back to London and the life he’d planned there without so much as a backwards glance.
* * *
Marion was shaking. Her hands were shaking, her shoulders were shaking, even her hair was shaking. No matter how confidently she’d told Noah she would be safe with her father, now that she stood in the doorway of the Green Salon looking at the man, she wasn’t sure her prediction would prove correct. She’d never seen Walter Hawthorne so angry.
Her father’s face, which was nearly always red, had darkened to a plum purple. His eyes flashed with an anger and hatred she’d never felt the full force of before. She’d had always known her father didn’t like her, but she’d never known he despised her until that moment.
“Come in and shut the door.”
The fury in his voice made her hesitate. Too afraid not to, she did as she was told. She edged over to a seat by the fire to wait for her father’s tirade to come. There was nothing she could say to explain herself. She didn’t want to explain herself. She wanted nothing more than for her father to disinherit her and allow her to escape to a happier life.
“Just like your mother.” He rose to his full height and shook his head as he poured himself what looked to be a second or third drink. “She ruined everything and now you have, too.”
Her anger moved to the surface at his accusation. “I’m not the one who sold my child. If you put yourself into a bad situation, you certainly used me in the worst way possible to get yourself out.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about that, girl?”
“I heard you.” She jumped to her feet. “I heard you sell not just my hand in marriage to Lucas, but my body. Well, my body belongs to Noah Jordan now, and even I know that transaction cannot be made twice.”
Her father’s hand swung before she could react and smacked across her cheek, sending her sprawling to the floor. For a moment, Marion lay still in shock. Even through all the cold years between them, Walter Hawthorne had never struck her. He’d ignored her, yes. Screamed at her, yes. But never touched her.
Her face stung at his hard blow. Slowly, she eased up to a sitting position to peer up at him from the floor.
“Shut your mouth, you worthless child!” He downed his drink as if she were nothing more than a dog needing a disciplinary kick.
“I’m ruined, Papa.” Using the arm of the settee, she pulled herself back to her feet. “You can beat me all you like, but you cannot recapture what I’ve given away tonight.”
For a moment her father only glared at her, but then his face softened and he began to laugh. Marion winced at the hollow, humorless sound. It didn’t bode well.
“You stupid girl,” he said. “You think you’ve saved yourself from Josiah Lucas’s hands by giving that body of yours to another man?”
She remained silent. By God, she would keep her tongue and some shred of her dignity through this trial.
“Well, you’re wrong.” He clapped his hands together. “Only three people in this world know what a moll you’ve made of yourself tonight. There’s me, and I’ll certainly not tell a soul. There’s Noah Jordan. Now that he’s had a taste of you, he’ll certainly not come back a second time. He admitted he collects virgins. He’ll probably be glad that you marry another and I don’t call him out.”
Marion’s heart skipped as she saw what her father was leading up to.
“And then there’s you.” His eyes narrowed as he turned them on her with a grin.
“And I’ll tell Josiah Lucas everything,” she promised. “I’ll tell him that any child I bore could be Noah Jordan’s.”
Her father crossed the room faster than she’d ever seen his heavy frame move. He lifted her up and backed her into the wall, knocking the breath from her lungs with the force of the push. “If you say one thing, you’ll join your rotting mother in the afterlife, do you understand me, girly?”
A tear slipped from Marion’s eye and rolled down her cheek before she could hold it back. She searched her father’s eyes for any affection, any love he might have once felt for her and saw nothing. No feeling. Nothing but anger. Hatred.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” she begged. “You’re my father, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Nothing.” He let go of her arms, and she hit the floor with both feet and stumbled before catching herself on the edge of a table nearby. “I’ve raised you, I’ve supported you, and you will repay me now by fulfilling this bargain.”
“No!” She couldn’t find air, like she was drowning.
“In fact,” he continued, taking yet another drink. “Your little performance tonight has only earned you an accelerated destiny. When Lucas returns from his business, I’ll send him to you. Before the dawn, you’ll lay in that bed of yours and pretend to lose your maidenhead to him.”
He leaned down with a sneer. “It shouldn’t be hard to pretend, surely you remember how painful it was when Woodbury ran you through.”
She turned her face away from his putrid breath and lewd words. “I won’t do it. I won’t.”
With a bark of anger, he grabbed her by her tangled hair and dragged her from the room. Marion squealed at the rush of pain through her scalp as he pulled her up the stairs and down the hall. Once in her room, he let her go, but only to hit her again. This time the blow was with a closed fist that sent her careening toward her bed. She remained laying on the floor, too shocked and frightened to move for fear she’d provoke more of her father’s drunken, infuriated battering.
“Good night, daughter.”
He turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. With horror, she heard him insert the key in the lock. She leapt to her feet and flew across the room, throwing herself against the door. But the lock was already bolted and she was trapped.
“No!” she screamed against the wooden barrier. “Please, Papa let me out! Don’t do this to me!”
Her only answer was her father’s footsteps fading farther and farther away down the hall. Marion slid to the floor in a pool, too shocked and in pain to cry or scream or even think.
Chapter Seventeen
How long had she been lying there? An hour? Two? Or perhaps only a few moments. Marion couldn’t say, but it seemed as if an eternity had passed since her father had bolted her into her room… her destiny.
With effort, she pulled herself to her feet and crossed to the mirror at her dressing table. Already her face was red from the two blows her father had dealt her. In an hour or two they would be nasty bruises, reminders of what had been said and done that night.
Tears collected in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t cry. The best thing sh
e could do for herself now was get out and quickly. At any moment Josiah Lucas could barge through her door and all would be lost.
With deft movements, she put on her boots. As she pushed her hair back into a bun, she surveyed her options. The door was locked, there would be no escape that way this night. Her only other choice was the window. If Noah had come and gone that way, that meant she could do the same.
Noah. The thought of him made the pain in her heart even greater. He had been so furious when he left her bed, the anger in his eyes had made them a piercing blue that had stabbed into her soul. But even though he was furious, he would surely help her now if she went to him.
And there was nowhere else to go.
With a shiver, she pushed the window wide open and looked down. She was three dizzying floors above the hard ground below with not even a bush or hedge to break her fall. If she couldn’t manage to get down by way of the tree, she would probably kill herself in the process.
“What other choice do I have?” Staying and waiting for Lucas to return home and rape her seemed a fate worse than death.
With her head pounding from her father’s blows, she slung her foot on to the outside window ledge. It was much narrower than she’d estimated and it felt as if her foot could slip off at any moment. She gripped the shutters and yanked her other foot out.
“Don’t look down, Marion,” she whispered.
Focusing on the nearby tree limb, she shivered. Noah made this exercise look easy, even fun, but she could see now just how difficult it was. The limb was a good body length away from the ledge. She had no choice but to jump for it.
She fidgeted on the ledge, trying to get up the nerve to make the leap. It seemed almost impossible. She had almost decided to give up and go back inside when she thought of Josiah Lucas putting his hands on her, kissing her the way Noah had kissed her just hours before. Her determination returned threefold.
“One.” She let go of the shutter. “Two.” She measured the distance in her mind. “Three.”
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