by Aliyah Burke
“Touch him and I will do it again.” Trystan’s dictate floated past her on a dangerous silken thread.
Yes, her mind was made up; she conclusively did not give a damn.
Trystan wanted to sink his fist back into the smug bastard’s face again. He arrived late to this party and it was to find Jo waltzing around the room with none other than the smug gypsy half-breed, Callum Blackwood. Also his half-brother.
She took his breath away in her dress. He had wanted to beat every man in there for looking at her with lust in their gazes then take her away and strip her to where her silken skin would be against him.
“What did you say?”
He blinked and focused on Jo who stood between him and Callum, the footmen having since released them both.
“I said if you touch him I will do it again. Only this time I’ll make it worse.”
Well hell, he had done it now. After all those days and weeks of wondering if he would ever see the hellcat Jo had been before, he knew he did not have to any longer. She had returned and was in fine fury.
Her blue eyes burned with an eerie fire. She ripped off her gloves and smacked him in the chest with them. Then she took her finger and began jabbing him, inching him backward toward the refreshment tables.
“You.” Jab, jab. “Have no say, none, over whom I choose to dance with, Lord Wilkes.” More jabs.
The hell he did not. “Stop, Jo.”
“I did not give you leave to address me by that name.” He could go no farther. “Who do you think you are?” she demanded.
Beyond her he spied Callum standing there, holding a handkerchief to his mouth and he grinned. She looked over her shoulder and shoved Callum.
“This is not funny!” Jo turned her heat gaze back on him. “You do not beat on someone like this just because.”
“He did not listen.” Trystan edged around the table.
“You arrogant bastard.”
“Why, because I am protecting what is mine?” Now he was getting angry.
“I. Am. Not. Yours!” She reached out and picked up a plate of pastries and threw it at him.”
Dodging it, he held out his hands. She narrowed her gaze, reached for another, and threw it as well.
“Damn it, Jo. Stop this.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I asked you to—”
“Right,” she sneered, lifting the ladle from the punchbowl. “Because it would be a ‘good match’ according to you. What you do not seem to realize, Trystan, is I heard you tell Najja it was a mistake, what you did with me. A mistake!” She launched the ladle at him as well, which he barely dodged, she had great aim.
Shite! He had forgotten all about that. It was a lie that had been when he was trying to convince himself he did not need her. He also did not know she had heard that exchange.
“I was wrong.”
“I loved you for years and you tell me it was a mistake.” More things came toward him. Some hitting, some not. “Now you think because you want it, I will just come running? It will not happen. I am leaving.”
That stopped him cold and he did not dodge the next thing she heaved at him. Leaving? She could not leave. Moreover, why was she mentioning love as in had loved?
“No.”
One brow rose. “No? You think to tell me no?” She shook her head. “You have this wrong, Trystan. I tell you no. No more messing with my heart. No more treating me like I am a fool. And no more taking me to your mistress’s house. Did you really think that would not hurt me? I got the message. There was never going to be an us. So leave me alone now.”
“I cannot do that.”
She reached for the bowl with the punch in it and he moved. Swept in close and held her tight to his chest. She struggled and he pinned her arms at her sides.
“Stop fighting me, Jo.”
She took several deep breaths and looked around. He knew the moment it sank in what she had just done. Her eyes widened and she looked mortified, her face flaring a red, the same shade as punch she had about tossed at him. Glancing over his shoulder, following where she stared, he found Jo’s mother standing there, watching with such shame and embarrassment on her face. The woman’s face fell and she shook her head in shame, Trystan felt Jo’s shudder at that simple act.
“You do this to me,” she muttered. “Make me forget how to behave.”
“I make you feel alive, Jo,” he replied in the same low tone.
He could see people trying to move closer and overhear. There was no doubt this would be in a gossip sheet tomorrow but he did not care.
“You not having an opinion and not commenting on things is not you. You are a vivacious and spirited woman. It is wrong for this society to try and dampen that.” He ran a knuckle along her cheekbone. “I missed my hellcat.”
She frowned at him. “Why?”
He blinked not sure, he understood what she asked. You understand, you are trying to avoid it, his brain informed him.
“I need you, Jo.”
“Why? And if you tell me we make a good match again, you will bleed more.”
“I need you.”
Disappointment filled her expression and she stepped back out of his reach. “You also need your job, your drink, and your mistresses.”
“No, Jo, that is not true.”
She blinked. “You once told me you never got tired of the lies and deception. For a man who claims that, why should I, how could I believe anything he says?” She backed up a few more steps. “You have never needed anyone, Trystan Wilkes. You are just like your mentor. Congratulations.”
When she turned and walked away, he felt his heart rip out of his chest. He stood there, in the ballroom, with pastry and punch on his suit as Jo, met by her parents, headed to the door, neither looking left nor right.
The rest of the night passed in a blur and he truly had no idea of how he got home. However when he woke with a horrendous pounding in his skull. It was still less than the feeling of emptiness in his heart. He had been sleeping for two days.
He cleaned up and made his way to Jo’s house. Of course she was out. He went back daily for a week. Annoyed they would not tell him when she would be back he refused to leave once, the butler very somberly informed him that Miss Adrys, and her family was no longer residing here. He had to try one more time and so he saddled Ptolemy and set out for Kittle Manor.
There he learned the family was at Falcon House. Swinging himself back up onto his mount, he pointed him in the direction and urged him on his way. As he rode, he ran over what he was going to say to her.
The day was warmer than it had been and he was glad it was not raining. Coming over a hill, he found what he wanted to see. Jo.
She walked beneath the trees and their changing leaves in a red dress. Her hair drawn back by some ribbons and hung down her back. Innocent. Arousing. And perfect.
Ptolemy picked up his pace as they headed toward her. She turned her head and the devastation on her face tore at him. He had dismounted even before he came to a halt and pulled her close, kissing her before she could say a word.
She tasted like he imagined heaven would. He never wanted to let it end. When he realized she was not responding, he did however.
“Listen to me, Jo.”
She stared at him.
“You were wrong. I do need someone. You. What I did not say then is that I want to marry you because I love you. Everything about you from your fire to your compassion for others.”
She shook her head.
“Yes. I have loved you for years. You captivated me from the moment I first saw you. I was scared, yes. Of my job and how it could put you in danger. I no longer work for the Crown.”
“Why?”
“Because being like Jack is the last thing in the world I want. I do not want to be bitter and alone.”
“I was a mistake.”
He cupped her face. “No, hellcat. The only mistake I made was not telling you how I felt sooner. You scared me with the
feelings you created in me. But that is my issue, nothing you did.”
“I…I…”
He gave her a light kiss. “I have asked you to marry me numerous times now, Josephine Marguerite Adrys. Something I have never done to anyone before. You are a very reluctant bride. But I will keep asking until you say yes. We are a good match.” She stiffened. “No, do not be mad, we are. You keep me centered, Jo. Something I have needed for a very long time. I have needed you for a long time.”
Slight tremors could be felt through where they touched. He ran his hands up her arms.
“Are you cold?” He did not wait for an answer, just shrugged free of his tailcoat and draped it over her shoulders.
“I do not know what to think.”
“What does your heart tell you?”
Lord help him, he wanted her to marry him. She shifted and put her arms through his sleeves.
“Believe you.” She met his gaze directly. “I just do not know.”
He pulled her close again and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You still love me.”
“Arrogant.”
“Yes, but correct. Tell me I am wrong.”
“I cannot.”
“And I love you, Jo.”
“Ask me again.”
He closed his eyes against his hearts leap of joy. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She did not answer and he readjusted so he could look at her. Her large eyes sparkled with unshed tears. One hand reached up and cupped his scarred jaw. He did not pull away, he loved it did not bother her for him to have scars.
“Yes.”
He dipped his head and kissed her again. He slid his tongue in deep and stroked all he could reach. She moaned and pressed closer. Roof, sides, and her own tongue, he rubbed his along. Passion filling him until he could hardly think straight.
She broke away and touched her swollen lips. “We cannot.”
“Why not?”
“I am here visiting Najja and their new baby. I came out to get some fresh air.”
“We shall not keep them waiting then.” He swept her up and placed her on Ptolemy, mounting seconds after.
She leaned back against him and he buried his nose in her hair, loving how it smelled. How she smelled. How she said she would marry him.
“Think we can marry today?” he teased as he got his horse moving.
Her laughter made him smile and in that second he knew there was nothing he would not do for her. Jo was the one created for him and he was lucky enough that she gave him a final chance once he realized exactly how much she meant to him.
An hour later, they all gathered in a sitting room. Jo held Helene Faulkner in her arms. Although Pug shot him glares from across the room, everyone else remained in a jovial mood after his and Jo’s announcement.
He stood behind his future wife and allowed his fingers to trail over her shoulder. She turned her head and gave him a soft smile and he suddenly found himself anxious for the day that was their child she held. Lifting his head he met Colin’s understanding gaze.
Then he returned it to the woman who was his bride-to-be. He loved her and would do anything to keep her happy. A feeling which did not scare him anymore.
Trystan had finally found what he needed in his life. Jo. He had learned so much and was no longer her reluctant viscount.
About the Author
Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at http://aliyah-burke.com/blog/contact/ or feel free to apply to join her yahoo group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/aliyah_burke.
She is married to a career military man, they have a German Shepherd, two Borzois, and a DSH cat. Her days are spent sharing her time between work, writing, and dog training.
Table of Contents
HER RELUCTANT VISCOUNT
Copyright Acknowledgement
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author