“You’re worried about what happened at today's party,” Patrick continued, seemingly oblivious to the revving of her arousal and the fine tension in her body. Was he not as afflicted as she? How unfair. She strolled toward him, trailing her hand along the banister. His gaze flicked to her hand and back to her eyes. She knew how to make him weak, how to bring that scintillating burr back into his voice.
“Mr. Cage told us to leave.”
“To protect you from something.”
“I don't need anyone's protection,” she said.
“Your family does,” Patrick replied. “It must have been one of your sisters and what happens to one of you affects all of you.”
“And what happens to a gentleman only affects the gentleman, is that right? And sometimes it doesn't affect that gentleman at all.” She strolled toward him, closing the distance inch by inch. His gaze wandered lower than her face, a caress feather light, invisible fingers trailing down her neck, her breastbone.
She took a breath and then exhaled. His focus zeroed in on the movement. The same tension coiling around her was now spinning its web around him. She could see in the way his stance changed, the way the pupils of his eyes stretched, and she stepped right into him, her breasts meeting his chest and one arm coming around her.
“We shouldn't do this,” he said. “Not today.”
Josie came up on her toes and kissed his jawline, one, two, three. She dropped kisses along the line from his ear to his chin. The arm around her tightened, her breasts squishing to his chest. Her pelvis instinctively lifted to his, her hips tucking because even standing this close to him was not close enough to the fine nerve endings in her skin.
The begging little bud of delight between her thighs knew what pleasure would be found with him.
He stared down at her.
“I don't want to think about today,” she said. “Distract me.”
Slowly his head bent toward hers, but then he paused and reversed. “I know you don't want to hear it, but we still don't yet know what the danger was. I hope you will see reason.”
Her hand trailed from the banister to the buttons on his breeches. “There's only one thing I want to see right now,” she said. She was nearly breathless with excitement.
He swallowed. “Christ, Josie, give me your word.”
“Is that word please?”
“No.”
She could feel his heartbeat against her breasts. Her confidence soared. What she was doing was working not just on him. Something wicked had taken over her.
“Is that word yes?” she asked, her voice low and sultry in a way it had never been before.
“In a manner speaking,” he said, “I do need you to say yes.”
She licked her lips and lifted her chin, trying to close the distance between his mouth and hers, but he was too tall. He had to participate or she needed a stepstool. Either way, she would not be deterred. She settled for what skin she could reach, the gap of flesh between his cravat and his jawline.
She tilted her head and licked that scrap of flesh.
He sucked in a breath, his other hand coming to her back and cupping her bottom.
“Just say yes,” he begged.
“Yes,” she whispered into his skin.
He exhaled. “You agree we should marry?”
She tensed. “No.” She withdrew but only enough to move to the other side of his neck. She could feel his pulse under her tongue.
“Proposals are heretofore banished from this room,” she said. “Just feel, Patrick, just touch,” she said.
She could certainly feel the ridge of his manhood pressing into her lower stomach. All she needed now was to touch him, to drive him mad, so lust-crazy he couldn't speak—couldn't think.
“Josie, we need to talk about this,” he said, his voice strained.
He shuddered. “I can't… I can't think clearly like this.”
“Don't think,” she urged, “just touch me. Please kiss me.”
His lips met hers hungrily, and he devoured her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, both hands coming to her body and crushing her against him, cupping her bottom, molding her hips to his. The thick ridge of his manhood grinding into her stomach so hard it almost hurt. She needed it somewhere else; she needed all that hard girth between her thighs.
She trembled in his hold. “Patrick, I need you.”
He lifted her, walked two short steps to the chaise lounge, and laid her down. Her skirts were a hindrance that he flicked to her waist, and she spread her thighs eagerly. He lay between.
“Oh, yes, Patrick, please,” she cried.
His hips aligned with hers, the marble hardness of his erection grinding on her intimate flesh. Bolts—nothing delicate like spears or shards, but bolts of exquisite pleasure shot through her, stunning her with their ferocity.
“Josie, please,” he begged. His desperate tone cut through the haze of desire. She knew what he wanted from her.
“Patrick, don't,” she bid. “Speak no more of it.”
“I gave my word. Give me yours.”
“No,” she said between clenched teeth. “This is just pleasure, pleasure between a man and a woman. It's just carnal, animal.” She reached for the buttons of his breeches, slipping him free and taking hold of him tightly as he’d shown her.
He snagged her wrists and pinned them beside her head.
“That is not what is happening between us and you know it. I care for you. I want to protect you. I want to give you everything you want.”
She pinched her eyes closed for a second, and when they opened, blazing fury coursed through her.
“You can't do that, Patrick, because I don't want to be a wife. I don't want to be under a man's protection. I don't want to be at the mercy of his will.”
His blue eyes burned like the hottest part of a flame. This searing color of a flash of lightning as it strikes the water, as it rents the sky.
“It wouldn't be like that between you and me. I know you, Josie. I know I can make you happy.”
“Those are just words. But marriage is nothing more than a transaction. Nothing more than the purchase of property and the property would be me. I can't do it not for any reason.”
“Not even love?”
Her heart squeezed like a tiny fist.
Her eyes began to sting. “You don't love me. You can't, it's not possible after so little an acquaintance.”
“I recognize you. I may not know you completely. It's not possible to know a person completely. It takes a lifetime, Josie, but I see in you what I know in myself. Why can't you see that in me?”
“I… I can't give up all that I worked for.”
“But you give up your body?”
“I willingly share my body with you. Can you not see the difference? This mutual pleasure between us. It is what equalizes us. The moment you ask me to marry you, you take possession of my body. I can't do that. I can't be owned by you. I can't be owned by any man.”
His grip on her wrists eased. “You think I would treat you that way, as property, as my possession?”
“It's ingrained in you. You're already treating me that way.”
He let go completely and moved back, sitting on his haunches.
Cool air washed over her flushed, achingly sensitive skin. She couldn't close her legs, not with him sitting between them, and her dress was bunched around her waist. She lay back like a wanton woman.
Their eyes locked together in silence.
A battle of wills.
He was not going to win.
She thought quickly. Her foggy mind muddied with passion, her skin prickly and irritated from lack of touch. Her clothes, cumbersome and heavy, itchy even. And then she was inspired. What would he do if she removed them? She bit her lip, trying not to smile. She dragged her hands down to her breasts and she cupped them.
His breathing turned ragged as he watched her.
She clawed at the edges of her bodice, dragging it down slowly, scraping over the ti
ps of her breasts.
“Say yes to me,” he bent over her, “please say yes.” His voice was strained, barely above a whisper and grating. His silky burr breaking through his proper speech. His arms shook as he held himself above her.
“Be my wife, Josie, and you'll have everything you want.”
Josie tossed her head back and forth. “No, Patrick, just take me. Have me because you want me and I want you.”
His face twisted in agony and he pulled away, but Josie took hold of him again and she lifted her hips, her softness meeting his hardness, sliding against her. Her spine bowed with pleasure and he groaned, deep, guttural, sounding almost painful.
Their eyes locked
“Fine,” he growled, his gaze blazing, his teeth bared in a clenched snarl, and he dug an arm under her neck. Their mouths clashing together as he plunged into her, sharp and deep, wrenching a gasp, her lips in shock as flames consumed her, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. He moved inside her and the pain quickly ebbed, drowning in the liquid fire of her pleasure.
Sliding back and forth, thrusting against her sensitive bud and the pleasure coiled so tightly inside her, she thought she might snap. The ferocity with which her release barreled toward her frightened her, but when it happened it was so quick, so sudden and abrupt, she should never have been afraid at all. It was like jumping from a cliff, one second of fear and thousands of seconds of rushing exhilaration.
A warm flush came over her body and all her sensory nerves fired at once. Fireworks all over her skin, inside her body, in her mind and her heart.
She felt like she was floating except his weight held her down as he pumped into her over and over, driving wave after wave of ecstasy inside her until he stiffened, buried inside her. His whole body trembled, and he groaned a deep animal sound and then went limp over her.
Josie sighed in relief, shaken by these fierce emotions inside her. She'd never felt anything like it. These orgasms had been more powerful than the first time but over all too soon. He got off her, jerking his clothing into place.
He was angry, his emotions practically shimmered around him like heat. Josie pushed her skirts down, a small current of fluid leaving her body. She sat up afraid to look to see if it was blood or just his seed. All the fire in her seemed to just seep out, leaving her cold like an empty hearth filled with old ash.
“Will you run off now like nothing occurred between us? As if what we just did has no meaning, no deep, lasting consequences?”
“Are you panicking?” Josie retorted.
“Josie, you will marry me. I will not discuss this.”
“We’ve discussed nothing.”
“I'm not going to let you destroy yourself and my honor.”
Josie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Damn your honor. What about what I want?”
“You don't know what you want. You think you do, you think you can just demand it, that you can shape your destiny. Let me tell you, no one can. Not even men such as I who were given wealth and privilege from birth. Life is cruel. You can want, you can need, but at the end of the day, only the strongest survive. While you are strong in heart and intellect, you are weak in execution.”
“How dare you insult me. You have no idea what I've been through or how strong I am.”
“I do, Josie. I see you, but I've yet to understand how you can be so ignorant when it comes to matters of the world, when you've suffered some of the harshest circumstances. Marry me. I will go to your father. I will go to the duke, to the dowager duchess, and they will see it happen as well. You could be carrying my child. This involves more than just you.”
Her stomach clenched, a wave of panic and dread crashing through her.
A child?
Yes, she'd been so caught up in the moment, she hadn't even thought that far ahead. She hadn't been thinking at all, only been feeling.
“We can talk about this when we both calm down and have some time to think.”
“The time for thinking is over. You may not want to see what is happening between us, but the choice has now been taken away.”
“Don't you ever say that to me. I will always have a choice.”
“But I don't now. My honor, my heart, everything that I am will not let me walk away from you. If it was just my heart that would be ruined by loving you, that would be one thing, but my heir could be nestling inside you right this moment.”
“Patrick, please. It was one time.”
He turned away, marching toward the stairs. A man with a purpose.
Josie scrambled to her feet, her heart banging against her rib cage like a frenzied prisoner about to meet the hangman's noose. His longer, stronger strides doubled the distance between them. Josie stumbled down the spiral staircase in a flurry, darting across the room before he could reach the door and planted herself across it, arms spread, feet spread with only the strength of her will to hold her up.
“You're being ridiculous,” she said. “What about all the other women you've bedded?”
“I’ve never left my seed inside any woman. Those women were independent widows, spinsters much older than you. Much wiser. They understood what they wanted from the beginning.”
“You think I don't have that ability, that I'm too young and stupid to understand?”
“There's a difference between stupid and willful ignorance. You think you can alter your fate with words, dance along the edge of the sword, and not fall off. We've both fallen, Josie. I want to catch you but you won't let me. I’m not giving you the choice anymore. I love you. I'm sorry my heart, my money, the protection of my name, my respect, is not enough for you, but it's what you'll have to settle for.”
Her arms dropped to her side. The sheer pain in his eyes stabbed her, sharp like a dagger to her heart. Now the door was propping her up as her arms fell to her sides and her knees went slack.
“Patrick, please. I'm sorry. Can't we can we just wait a moment and talk about this?”
“This is not how I wanted this to happen. I thought somehow I could make you love me in return. Now I can only hope you won’t hate me for the remainder of our years.”
All her strength left her. She would have dropped to the floor, but he opened the door and she slid to the side instead. He left her there in the library, carrying both their fates in his hands.
Josie forced herself to stand and hurried after him. Violet appeared in the hallway, the dowager duchess beside her, and their expressions said they both knew that something wrong was happening and they would accept no less than absolute truth.
Chapter 20
Patrick had nothing to hide because this was exactly what he wanted, which contradicted every argument she'd made in her head about him being a rake, about him only using them. He was now leading the charge to ensure they married.
“Please, won't you join us in the library Lord Selhorst, Miss Josette,” the dowager duchess said with a stone-cold tone that implied their agreement was completely unnecessary. They would follow promptly.
Patrick presented his arm to the dowager duchess and escorted her back into the library, which left Josie to face Violet. Josie met Violet's gaze with hesitancy, but then she lifted her chin.
“Are you all right, Josie?” Violet asked. They were friends of a sort. Violet had befriended all the sisters, but she was closest to Bernie. Josie didn't know how to read her just yet. Violet herself was a strong, opinionated woman, and that might be Josie's only hope that the situation could remain reasonable. She wouldn't be facing pressure from all sides.
"I'm fine,” Josie said. “Let's just get this conversation over with.”
Violet nodded. “And what situation might that be?” Violet asked in a whisper as they entered the library. “I have to admit I'm steeped in situations today.”
Josie glanced to her. “From the party, you mean?”
Violet nodded. “But let's focus on you right now. You just might be the more pressing of the two.”
They walked to the chairs stationed around one
of the long tables. Patrick handed the dowager into a chair and sat next to her, Violet and Josie on the other side.
“Shall we ring for tea?” the dowager duchess suggested.
“Why don’t I?” Violet said. Patrick stood as Violet scooted out of her chair and went to the bellpull. In her periphery, Josie saw Patrick pour himself something stronger than tea and return to the table, but he did not sit until Violet sat.
“Well, it seems you two have something rather important to discuss.” The dowager duchess raised one raven wing brow and pinned her gaze on Josie, for all the world as if Josie would be the one to do the explaining.
She didn't know if that was a compliment or insult, assigning Josie the blame. Knowing that Josie would've had a steady hand in her own ruination or if it was an insult and Josie was expected to defend herself.
Well.
Patrick cleared his throat. “If I may, the fault is entirely mine, Your Grace. I have compromised Josie—Miss Josette today, and there have been other occasions during this party where I have overstepped the bounds of propriety, and now I implore that we marry.”
His gaze moved to Josie. “Though she does not feel the same.”
Not a flicker of surprise altered the dowager duchess’ expression. “Well, I will insist marriage be the solution to this little problem.”
Josie jumped on the words little and problem because their insignificance implied there might be a window of opportunity for her to leap through, even though she knew it would hurt Patrick. He'd hate every minute of it and so would she. She didn't want to hurt him. She hadn’t thought she could, she realized. She'd been rather ignorant about that too. She hadn't considered his feelings at all, but he’d said he loved her, and whether she believed that didn't change that he'd said the words, and he very well could, in his own mind, think that he loved her.
“I don't think we should rush to such a drastic conclusion,” she said.
“You could be carrying my heir,” Patrick said, his words falling like a gavel on the table.
Violet jerked to attention beside her, turning to Josie, but Josie could only stare at Patrick.
“But that won’t be known for some time, and that time can be used to consider all the options,” Josie offered.
The Five Second Rule For Kissing: The Northumberland Nine Series Page 15