by Jilian Rouge
“You must live with me as my wife for a fortnight.” Silence reigned supreme as Rafe watched Georgie process what he just said. At first, shock colored her features and locked her body down, and he waited, unmoving, for the implication of his proposal to fully register in her brain.
“WHAT!” she screeched finally, almost rendering him deaf. “That’s impossible!” Georgie’s heart hammered at his suggestion, and she was positive that he meant to also have her in his bed nightly for the entire duration of those two weeks.
“Then, I can’t grant you a divorce. Simple as that. Give me two weeks, firecracker. That’s all I want.” His gaze bore into hers with forthright directness, and she fidgeted nervously under such a heavy look.
“I’m sure that’s not all you want,” she said in a small voice, just barely audible to his ears.
“You’re right. You will sleep in the duchess’ bedchambers adjoining mine, with the door between our chambers kept unlocked.”
“You will force me to warm your bed?” she asked incredulously. When he said nothing, she said contemptuously, “You do know what that is called.”
“No force is necessary. I will have you willingly or not at all.” Pacing between the rows of flowers, he went on. “I did mention that I had conditions, meaning I have more than one to put before you.”
Temper flaring, she shot out, “How much more humiliation can you heap on me that you haven’t already?!”
Calmly, he stated, “My other condition is that you sleep next to me every night, but I will not bed you unless it’s what you want, firecracker.”
Not quite believing the utter nonsense he spouted, she cried, sputtering, “That’s outrageous! What kind of unhinged person would dream up such a thing! None of what you offered is the least bit attractive. And if I’m to understand correctly, you want me to live with you as your wife, and then you will let me go? How does that make any sense?!”
Rafe continued his slow pacing as an antithetical response to Georgie’s wild outburst. Affecting the same calm demeanor as before, he evenly replied, “It only makes sense if a divorce is truly what you’re after. Meet all of my conditions, and I will do everything in my power to see to the dissolution of our marriage, leaving you free to marry—whomever you wish.” His momentary pause was heavily laden with a specific name they both knew he was about to utter—Belhaven.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she still couldn’t believe how preposterous his demands were, and she couldn’t help but suspect he was after something more than what he asked. “How can I be sure that this isn’t some game where I find myself on the losing end?” she asked carefully.
With a wry grin, he replied, “When I’ve bargained in the past, there have always been at least a modicum of trust between both parties to see that all of the terms are met. Of course, you also have the option of bowing out now, but then, you would still be shackled to me. And I recall that you were quite vocal about ending our marriage.”
Thoughts churned in rapid-fire succession through Georgie’s mind, seeking desperately for any other way to get what she wanted without giving in to Rafe’s demands. Act as his wife for two weeks only to leave him the very second those two weeks were up? How could she live with herself, whoring herself out to her own husband for want of a divorce?
Noting her hesitation, Rafe stated dryly, “By the look of utter disgust on your face, I can tell what you’re thinking. You’re imagining yourself a martyr for Belhaven’s sake if you comply with my conditions, aren’t you? I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not touch you during those two weeks unless you give me leave to do so.”
“And by the look on your face, you seem confident that I would even let you,” she shot back.
“I am confident, firecracker. How easily you’ve forgotten what we are like entwined together,” he said suggestively. “How your body responds so easily to my touch. I rather think that I don’t have to do much more than breathe for you to want me.”
“Do you hear yourself? Your arrogance has clearly gone to your head, rendering you practically brainless,” she spat hotly, moving further away from him. She couldn’t entirely deny his last statement; she knew how utterly desirable and irresistible he was, and she had always been helpless when it came to resisting his charms. Her sullen response stemmed mostly from her refusal to acknowledge the truth he had just voiced.
“Now, now, Georgina,” he admonished. “While I may be arrogant, I am only fighting for what I want. Aren’t you also prepared to do the same?”
That single question stopped Georgie short. Since their early days together, Georgie had always known Rafe to be a fighter, fighting for the good of others, fighting for what he wanted. From him, she had learned that remaining passive had no merit when it came to the things that were important, not when the stakes were so high. And so, she completely understood what he meant by fighting for her, that he wasn’t willing to lie down and let her go without a fight.
While she may not be happy with his methods for doing so, she did have appreciation for the motivation behind his actions. When she was a young girl who hero-worshipped both Griffiths brothers, she had admired their laudable efforts in championing causes close to their ideals. Sometimes those causes weren’t as admirable as others, but there was no mistaking how hard either brother fought for a cause they deemed worthy. In this moment, Rafe was simply using what was available to him, giving her another glimpse of the ruthless sea captain he claimed to be.
She may be a female in a man’s world, but she would never back down when it came to fighting for a future that was almost within reach. Their divorce would just be the tipping point towards her dreams of independence and of pursuing her one true passion: her art. Moreover, Nicholas wasn’t exactly a certainty in this future of hers but renewing their acquaintance like before would go a long way towards her own happiness. It would finally be as it should have been, before Nicholas’ parents arranged his marriage for him and before Rafe had entrapped her with his deceit.
If she wanted a chance at such a future, what was sacrificing two weeks in Rafe’s company compared to the grand scheme of things? The way she saw it, complying was just a means toward a desired end. While society may later disdain her for being a divorcee, she couldn’t care less what her peers thought of her. Besides, she imagined that they could hate her from a distance once she was far away from English soil and settled in either Paris or Venice.
With the image of herself painting happily in either city, Georgie knew exactly how to answer Rafe. Head held high, she directed her gaze straight into his, and she could see the questioning glance there in his eyes.
She began, “After some consideration, I believe I can confidently answer your question. So, yes, I am prepared to fight for what I want. And if it takes my living with you for two weeks to dissolve our marriage, then yes, I am willing to do so.”
Surprise colored his features before he schooled them to an almost bland expression. Giving her a slight bow of his head, he said, “My lady, you honor me with your answer. I imagine you would want your divorce as soon as possible, so I suggest we leave now for Lyonscar before the hour grows too late.”
Sputtering at his imperiousness, Georgie cried, “I just only arrived here, and I had promised Rue this visit before I knew any of this was going to happen!”
With a smirk, he replied, “Neither did I, and I find that I’m not willing to wait another second to start this bargain of ours. The longer you delay, the longer I extend our time together.”
Disgust for the man before her filled her to the brim, and she snorted, “And I should have known you would throw me for a loop in such a fashion to get your way. Fine! I will come with you as long as I can say my proper farewells.”
Nodding once, he allowed, “All right. I will wait no longer than thirty minutes. Since I wasn’t invited here, I will wait for you in my carriage.”
With sarcasm heavy in her tone, she replied, “Thank you for permitting me to take my leave of my
friends, husband.”
“Anything for you, wife,” he replied playfully, ignoring the daggers shooting from her eyes in his direction.
As she hurried out of the orangery, Rafe exited slowly after her, elation infusing every cell in his body at the anticipation of the next two weeks. If he couldn’t prove to her that they were meant for each other in that time, he might as well give up his title and all of his earthly goods. Nothing was worth having if he didn’t have his firecracker by his side.
13
Lyonscar Castle, Two Days Later
Entrenched in his thoughts while he should have been going over estate business, Rafe found himself at a loss as to what to do about Georgie. Two nights spent with her, and all he had to show for it was a cockstand that had yet to be satisfactorily alleviated by its source. While he could take care of it himself, it would be much more pleasurable to have his own desirable wife riding him to completion. He was lucky to have the cover of his desk to hide the evidence of his arousal prompted solely by his thoughts of Georgie.
But back to business. Now that he had been granted a full pardon by the Crown for his activities as a privateer during the past five years, he was ready to start making the Lyonscar estate profitable once again. While the majority of the estate’s profits were tied to various local businesses, Rafe envisioned branching out those same businesses across the Atlantic Ocean.
While his weavers were currently in the business of creating quality English cloth, his connections in various ports around the Atlantic expressed a need for good canvas meant for sails, and he meant to provide the supply for that demand. His late father had dabbled in the investment of ironworking mills when he was younger, and Rafe had decided to expand the production from the ironworks to include farming tools to be shipped to America.
Then there was also the small matter of his need for revenge. It was fortunate that the Crown had granted him a small contingent of Royal Officers to aid him in the search for the man with the crescent-shaped scar. The blighter had eluded the hangman’s noose for his numerous crimes, and Rafe personally wanted to see the man brought to justice. It was only too bad that the bloody man hadn’t been active in the area of late, and thus, there was no way for them to track him.
Planning all of the above, however, paled in comparison to the compelling enigma that was his wife. He didn’t quite know what to make of her since their reunion. Neither did he quite figure out how to bridge the distance between them, the one that separated her heart from him.
Once upon a long-ago time, she had been an open book to him and had been equally as open with him. It didn’t matter that they had been only children, but he keenly felt the difference between then and now. And during the days leading up to their marriage, they had been united against the world, happy in each other for a time, until he had been the one to ruin it all.
And here he had created for himself a second chance for Georgie to get to know him all over again; only, she resisted so hard against letting him back in to her life. While they may have spent the past two nights in the same bed, he hadn’t touched her out of deference to her. He promised, after all.
But time was working against him; he needed his Georgie back before the agreed-upon two weeks were up. No subtle gestures of flirtation and seduction would work with her, not when he feared that she would shy further away from him. Most of all, he wanted to just show her that she needed him and not that namby-pamby Belhaven.
Concerning the seduction of his wife, he had a few ideas up his sleeve, ones that were worthy of his old life on the open sea. He couldn’t picture Belhaven doing the sorts of things he had in mind for Georgie, things no gentleman had any business bringing to fruition. And therein, lay the difference between Belhaven and himself. One of them was a gentleman, and Rafe was quite sure the gentility had been almost entirely bred out of him in the past five years, living as he had as a pirate.
There wasn’t much on his self-written will-not-do list, but he was hellbent on using his entire arsenal of seductive tactics to win Georgie back. A wide grin split his mouth as he amused himself with a great plan he had in store for Georgie later that evening. Knowing she wasn’t completely immune to his lean form, he was going to use her own weakness against her.
And he was willing to bet all of his gold that she was going to like it.
…
Georgie didn’t know if she could survive the entire two weeks, at least not with her sanity intact. She had decided that while her nights belonged to Rafe, he had no say as to how she spent her daylight hours. And so, she chose to busy herself with her art. She had a few sketches to work from, ones she had drawn during a visit with a client in London a few weeks back. Then, she had spent her first day back at Lyonscar, entombed within her studio, hard at work, mixing the right shades of blues and purples needed for areas of shading.
Her first night in Rafe’s bedchamber was one of the most awkward nights spent with him, to date. Unlike other gentlemen of his station, Rafe refused to wear a nightshirt for modesty, and instead slept next to her entirely nude. He hadn’t moved to touch her, just as he had promised. However, the tenting of the sheet above his groin told her he did not go to sleep unaffected by her nearness.
The state of that particular part of his anatomy had her remembering what it was like the last time she was in its vicinity. Lying awake next to him as he softly snored, she recalled the pleasant sensations his touch had evoked when he was pistoning in and out of her. She hadn’t thought to know such feelings with Rafe once again, and until now, she had hoped to find a semblance of such feelings again with someone who genuinely cared for her.
Being with Rafe once again had her feeling out of sorts, like her world had been tilted off-balance with his reappearance. And while she had mourned what they once had or could have had, she was determined that she could be happy once again. Just not with Rafe by her side.
Rafe tended to bring out her passionate side more often than she would have liked, and that didn’t bode well for her rapidly-crumbling resolve to remain distant and aloof. Who could withstand such potently devilish charm when the man exuding it was someone she used to think of as safe and familiar? This new version of Rafe was neither safe nor as familiar as she had anticipated, not when he kept her on her toes with his disarming smiles and hot glances.
Since her first introduction to sensual play at Rafe’s guided instruction, she had assumed that the desire Rafe had effortlessly drawn from her could just as easily be elicited by another man she wanted. However, in the past five years, no other man had been able to even produce a similar response within her. Damn Rafe for being the only one to ever bring her to such heights, and she wasn’t even sure she still liked the man!
He was wearing on her nerves, and she wasn’t certain that she would be able to handle the next time Rafe decided to assail her senses with a heavy offensive. She blamed her inability to withstand his seductive charm solely on the fact that she had been out of practice the years he had been away. She already felt like the sexual tension between them was stretched taut, and one more overt gesture would send her careening over the edge and headlong into his arms. All sense be damned once she got there.
She could war against her own desires all she liked, but she realized it was only a matter of time before she found herself succumbing to them entirely.
…
Rafe had spent the better part of the day planning exactly what would happen once Georgie entered his chamber later that evening. Supper had been a quiet affair; neither he nor Georgie had volunteered any sort of small talk. He had preferred the silence during the meal since it had been an exercise of patience for him to wait until their agreed-upon time together to carry out his plan.
If Georgie had noticed his reluctance to converse, she had made no sign, but it had probably been for the best that they had kept conversation to a bare minimum. With the way he had felt at that moment, he would have probably lunged at her across the table to get to her if she had looked his
way. So far, she had not looked him in the eye since the first course and had remained fixed on her plate as she calmly ate. It had been bad enough that she was so near, and he had told himself that he only had to wait until later to see if his plan would bring about the results he wanted.
Namely, Georgie in his bed, in his arms, enjoying herself equally as much as he would.
Here in his bedchamber, Rafe ensured everything was properly placed and staged for his planned seduction. He had the servants install a custom-crafted bath by the windows, built large enough for two people. While the water had been steaming hot earlier, it would be just the right temperature by the time Georgie walked in.
Around this time, Georgie would be completing her evening ablutions, and he himself would be waiting for her arrival to begin his. Dressed in nothing more than his banyan, he stood from his seat by the fire as soon as he heard the doorknob of the adjoining door rattle open. Eagerly anticipating what was soon to come if he played his cards right, Rafe unwrapped himself from the robe just as Georgie stared at him in shock.