He chose his moment with care, approaching her in the circular greenhouse. Rolfe flashed him a wink before leading Zoë and Sara away to view Sir Geoffrey’s prize pineapples in another part of the building. Emily’s eyes were trained on a vine that was heavy with blossom. Leon recognized the absorbed look on her face. She was lost in a dream world. The thought brought an ineffably tender light to his eyes.
She took a step back, straight into his arms. “I beg your…” Her words dwindled into silence.
He smiled down at her. Deliberately lowering his voice so that she would not recognize it, he said, “Your uncle asked me to conduct you to him.”
His words made no impression on her. She gazed at him in rapt attention, unaware that his arms were still holding her.
“The fireworks display,” he prompted. “We are to assemble on the front lawns.”
Her breath came out in a rush. “Fireworks display?” She smiled shyly. “Of course. How stupid of me.” She looked down at the toes of her white satin slippers. “I presume my uncle thinks that I am lost?”
He did not answer, but merely held out his arm, inviting her to lay her fingers on the back of his sleeve. She obeyed the unspoken command. The air between them crackled with awareness.
It was some time before she realized that he wasn’t making for the house. He was making for the river. Her hand dropped away and her steps slowed, then faltered. He turned to face her and for the first time she felt a shiver of unease.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere where we can be alone together.”
It was what she wanted, of course. William would carry her off to some quiet corner where he would kiss her, and all her uncertainties would be resolved. The quiver of alarm that danced along her skin was merely a wariness that was natural to the female of the species. He was a male and so much more powerful than she.
He was also William and a guest of Sir Geoffrey’s. William was as safe and as dependable as the Bank of England, else he would not be here. Hadn’t Uncle Rolfe said as much?
“Do you come with me?” he asked.
He was making an attempt to disguise his voice. It seemed that William was a bit of a romantic, too. The thought gratified her. “Yes,” she said simply, and smiled.
Almost as though her acquiescence had not pleased him, he grabbed her wrist none too gently and swung on his heel. She had to run to keep up with him. Her ankle twisted and she stumbled. He was on his knees instantly, gathering her into his arms. She heard the rasp of his breath, she saw the glitter in his eyes, and then his head descended and his mouth took hers.
She had been right. This kiss was like nothing she had ever known before. He wasn’t wooing her, he was claiming her. And she was responding. It was as though every cell in her body possessed a knowledge that went beyond logic. While her mind warned her to be cautious, every feminine instinct urged her to yield to him.
When he pulled back, she stared at him with huge, bemused eyes. His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. As he swung her into his arms, breast to breast, their two hearts beating wildly in tempo, she made an involuntary protest, which he ignored. She was confused, but one thing was becoming clear to her. This man could not possibly be William. William was squarer, more solid. This man was as lithe as an athlete. His scent was different. And his kisses were too confident by half.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, turning her lips to his cheek.
He brushed his lips over hers. “I’ve come for you. You always knew that I would.”
Her head was buzzing. She felt as though she were floating. The three glasses of champagne she had consumed were having an effect on her. They must be. The man in the scarlet domino even spoke like a dream lover. But this was reality. This man was a stranger. Why then did she feel as though she had known him all her life? Even though she did not know him, she trusted him.
Her head lifted and she gazed up at him. His jaw was square, giving him an air of resolution. This man was not one to be trifled with. “Who are you?” she asked, not knowing why she was whispering, why she was trembling.
From behind his mask, his eyes glinted down at her. His lips curved in an intimate smile. “You know who I am. I’m your fate. Better get used to it.”
The words took her breath away. So it was true. These things really did happen. Her ardent heart had sent a silent message into the void, summoning her true lover, and he had come for her. Just like that. It was…absurd!
When they came to the last turn in the path, the river was before them. There was a dock, and a yacht ablaze with lights moored beside it. In a few swift strides, the man in the scarlet domino carried her across the gangplank, shouting out instructions to one of the crew who was standing by.
“Whose boat is this?”
“A friend’s.”
“I shouldn’t be here. My uncle…”
“He knows you are with me.”
She assimilated this in silence as he carried her below deck. The cabin in which he set her down was sumptuous. A huge feather bed seemed to fill the small space. Quickly averting her eyes, she encountered a small table set with two places. The scene was intimate. Seduction in capital letters was written all over it.
It was the act of removing his domino which loosened her tongue. “You must return me to my uncle at once.” There was a catch in her voice. “This is…this is insane.”
“Don’t be frightened,” he replied. The domino was thrown carelessly over the back of a chair. “First we eat. Then we talk. Everything will become clear to you in a little while. No, really! There is no cause for alarm. Your uncle knows that you are with me.”
His eyes were hot on hers. When he came to tower over her, she could not swallow, could not draw air into her lungs.
“You’ll be more comfortable if you remove your domino,” he said gently.
“No.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t want to quarrel with him. Already she was more than halfway in love with him. But dream lover or no, he was going too fast for her. She simply shook her head and looked up at him miserably.
He laughed softly, mockingly, and bent to her. Emily clutched the folds of her domino more closely about her, but he only kissed her. Gentle and sweet it was, and more heady by far than champagne. She shivered with excitement. Casually, with one hand, he slipped the domino from her shoulders.
His harsh intake of breath brought her out of her languor. The tender light in his eyes had faded. He was staring at her as though he had been struck by lightning.
Chapter Five
Her gown was no more than a wisp of gauze. It clung to her lissome contours and hollows like a second skin. The neckline plunged to her nipples, barely concealing them. His eyes moved slowly over her length, absorbing the tantalizing glimpse of rose-tinted skin beneath the sheerness of the material.
She was every man’s fantasy. She was his wife. Leon could not remember a time when he had been more furious. Suspicion burned into his brain. Only a woman of easy virtue would tart herself up like this. Only a woman of easy virtue would allow a stranger to take her on board his yacht without a murmur of protest.
The silence was charged with violence. Emily understood that it was her gown that had angered him. Madame Germaine had excelled herself. The garment gave the illusion that she was wearing nothing beneath it. She reached for her domino.
He was there before her. The domino was yanked out of her hands and flung into a corner. She inched away from him and fell against the bed. He crouched over her, his dark eyes glinting through the slits of his demi-mask. When his hands went to her hair, pulling the pins out, she gave a little gasp of fright.
His voice was low and frighteningly cordial, frighteningly familiar. “When I think I held off because you were not ready for this! When I think I was made to promise, even now, not to go too fast for you! God, you have made fools of us all.”
Her mind was too paralyzed with fright to make sense of his words. Her e
yes were fixed on his powerful hands. When they moved to untie the strings of her mask, she flinched away.
“Tears, sweetheart?” The calloused pads of his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. Her eyes went huge in her face when he brought one tear to his lips, moistening them in a gesture that was blatantly erotic. He shook his head. “Tears won’t work with me. But you already know that.”
“This is all a misunderstanding,” she got out feebly. “I am not the sort of woman you think I am.”
This was turning into a nightmare. It was her own fault. She had misread the man, imbuing him with heroic qualities that were only to be found in the imagination of a green girl. Her woman’s intuition had failed her. This man was of a breed she had never encountered until tonight. He was a dangerous, untamed specimen.
Drawing on remnants of her dignity, she said, “My husband will k-kill you for this.”
Her words shocked him into immobility. There was a moment of indecision. “Emily,” he said, “you must have guessed who I am?”
Emily. That one word penetrated the fog in her head like a shaft of radiant sunshine. Her brain made instant connections and she went weak with relief. Laughing and sobbing at the same time, she said, “Oh, God, Leon, I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life. Where have you come from? How did you get here?” The next thought touched a spark to her temper. “What the devil do you mean by terrifying me half out of my wits? If this was meant to be a joke, I’m not laughing.”
“It’s no joke,” he said, “and you’ll observe I’m not laughing, either. I did not mean for it to be like this, but hell, who has a better right to take what you are offering than I?”
Without haste he removed his mask and then his coat. His long fingers quickly undid his neckcloth.
Emily was not panicked, but she was far from easy in her mind. With any other man, she would have recognized the sexual threat. But this was Leon. He had never wanted her in this way before. “Leon?” she said uncertainly.
His eyes were moving over her. “My God,” he said, “my imagination did not do you justice. You are exquisite. But how many men have told you that?” The mockery turned into a more vicious emotion. “Take off the gown. I want to see you naked.”
The words were so shocking that she was sure she must have misheard him. But when he pulled his shirt out of his waistband, every sense to her peril came alive. She could not believe it. And then it came to her. It was the gown. The gown made him think that she was any man’s for the taking, and like any man, he was not too particular about which woman he chose to ease his carnal appetite. She could be anyone for all he cared.
She was too afraid to be angry. “This gown means nothing,” she told him quickly, earnestly. “Don’t you see, Leon, it was a prank, a lark? Sara’s gown is almost identical. Aunt Zoë insisted that we were to wear our dominoes at all times. Look,” she lifted the hem. “It’s quite decent. It has a pink underskirt. Oh, God, Leon, why won’t you believe me? It means nothing at all. I swear it.”
He believed her. He grasped at once that this was a familiar pattern for Ladies Emily and Sara. From the time they were little more than infants, they were used to going their own way. And this little act of defiance had Sara’s stamp upon it. Emily would never think to make herself more alluring for any male. She was too unaware. Oh, yes, he believed her. But he did not wish to believe her. His insane jealousy had shaken his control. There could be no turning back now.
He believed her. She could see it in his eyes, and in the release of tension across the breadth of his powerful shoulders as he shrugged out of his shirt and threw it aside. What she saw, she did not like. His masculinity was too stark, too intimidating. It made her aware of her own vulnerability in a way that she had never been aware of it before. She had always known that Leon Devereux was barely civilized. As each second passed, that thought became firmly fixed in her mind.
“Leon?” She was pleading with him now.
His tone was one she barely recognized. It was tender, and one he might have employed to calm a frightened child. “I’ve shown my hand before I meant to. There is no going back now. Try to understand, Emily, I’ve waited for this moment a long, long time. Give in to me and everything will be all right. Please, don’t make me hurt you.” Turning his back on her, he doused the lantern.
From two small windows, moonlight bathed the interior, casting an unholy glow. Emily fought its strange power. Then suddenly, as though a cloud had covered the moon, everything in that small cabin was veiled in darkness. With quick stealth, she slipped from the bed. Though she had not made a sound, he was aware of her every movement. Fingers like the jaws of a steel trap curled around her shoulders. She twisted from him and fell backward onto the bed. Scathing words, annihilating words, gathered on her tongue. They were smothered on her lips as his mouth took hers in a fury of possession.
He held her effortlessly, passively absorbing her wild blows, using his weight to still her frantic movements. When she began to tire, he pulled back slightly.
“Emily,” he said, and kissed her deeply, following her relentlessly as she tried to evade him. “This was inevitable. I am your husband. I have the right.”
“No,” she moaned against his mouth. She didn’t want this, couldn’t want this, not with him. She had hated him for years.
But she did want it. Her senses were flaming. It had nothing to do with Leon Devereux. It was a combination of circumstances. She’d been susceptible from the moment she’d alighted from her uncle’s carriage and had sensed something magical in the air. And months before that, she had been possessed of a strange restlessness. She had wanted a man to love her, had craved a woman’s fulfillment. But not with him. Never with him. Leon Devereux was reaping a harvest he had not sown.
He kissed her softly, then with rising hunger as he felt her responding. “Yes,” he said. “Yes,” and one hand curved around her breast in an intimate caress. The hardening of her nipple under his sensitive fingers brought a harsh sound of pleasure from his mouth. His dark head descended and Emily felt the moistness of his tongue and lips as they clamped down on her distended flesh. The intensity of her response stunned her. She was gasping, moaning, twisting restlessly, arching herself into him.
By the time he pulled back and stripped her of her garments, Emily was in a sensual daze. A moment later, light flooded the cabin. He had lit the lantern. As he stretched out beside her, naked now, too, he nuzzled her throat. “I had intended to spare your blushes, I can’t help myself. I want to see you, Emily.” He laughed deep in his throat. “Otherwise, I may think this is just another dream.”
He didn’t wait for her reply. His hands began a slow exploration, sweeping boldly from shoulder to breast, breast to thigh. “Emily!” he said. “My dear Emily!” and the rush of his breath was warm on her lips. “My imagination isn’t a shadow on the reality!” He began to punctuate his words with small kisses. “Kiss me back. Touch me! Show me that you are a woman now.”
He didn’t wait for her to take the initiative. Bringing one hand to his chest, he splayed out her fingers, letting her feel the thundering of his heart beneath the warm skin and hard muscle. He studied her shadowed expression. When he heard the little catch of breath at the back of her throat, his eyes closed momentarily. Catching her close to him, he pressed his face into her hair and draped her arms around his neck. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see you like this?”
“Leon.” She could barely breathe. She was burning with fever. Her skin was so sensitive that each brush of his hands, each caress of his lips scorched her like flame. Her fingers curled in the hair at his nape, bringing his head up. “Leon…” she pleaded.
His mouth opened wide on hers, feeding on her passionate response to him. She was beyond resistance when he eased her legs apart. When his fingers found her and invaded the secret core of her femininity, the breath froze in her lungs.
Unbidden, horrible in its graphic intensity, a picture flashed into her brain. Leon and an
other woman, Lady Riddley, both naked on a bed, and his hand between the woman’s thighs.
She moved so quickly, so adroitly, that he was taken completely off guard. Lashing out at him, sobbing, rolling, she scrambled off the bed.
“Emily!”
She was at the door, fumbling for the latch, before he came to his senses. One leap and he was off the bed and on her, swinging her round to face him. His fingers bit into the tender flesh of her arms. “Emily,” he said softly. “What happened?” His hands kneaded the taut muscles of her shoulders. “My darling, did I do something to frighten you? Am I going too fast for you? It’s all right. Come back to bed. I swear, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” There was a smile in his eyes.
The tears spilled over. “The dower house!” she said scathingly. “How could I have forgotten the dower house? You, and that woman, Lady…Lady…” The words died on her tongue as his strong fingers moved threateningly to the life pulse at her throat. She quailed before the violence that blazed out at her from his eyes.
“You cold, unfeeling little jade! You must spoil the moment! You must dredge up ancient history!” As she opened her mouth to vilify him, the pressure on his fingers closed alarmingly around her throat. “Don’t! Don’t dare breathe another woman’s name at a time like this! Don’t dare degrade this by bringing a third person into what concerns only the two of us. You and I, Emily. Your day of reckoning has been a long time in coming.” He was breathing hard as if he had just run a race.
“My uncle will see you dead if you lay a finger on me,” she spat at him.
“Your uncle’s wishes don’t come into it. I am your husband. Oh, what’s the use! When have you ever listened to reason?”
She wasn’t given time to think. Bending, he slipped an arm under her knees and swung her high against his chest. His kiss was savage, and devoid of the tenderness he had lavished on her only a short while before. She cried out when he flung her on the bed. He stood above her, infinitely masculine, infinitely menacing. As he came down beside her, blind panic seized her. She fought him like a cornered wild thing.
Cherished Page 8