Wicked in His Arms

by Stacy Reid

  The viscountess walked a few paces forward and then angled her body toward Tobias so her breasts were shown to their best advantage. “Jealousy does not become your future countess does it, darling,” she drawled. “I did hear she was a bit…unconventional.”

  “No, it does not.” His tone was icy, and the slender teeter Livvie had on her temper snapped.

  She cast him an irritated glance. “You will be quiet, my lord, or I will…I will… Pails of snails will be the least you have to fear.”

  His mien shuttered even further, and Lady Wimple’s tinkling laughter echoed in the library.

  Livvie rounded on her. “I fail to understand your amusement. Your husband is in residence. I feel no reservations about marching to him and letting your shameful behavior be known.”

  The viscountess spluttered. “I…I never—”

  Livvie waved her hand. “Though Lord Blade may not like it, I am quite possessive and in that regard I certainly have no intention of adjusting my attitude or my expectations. I would have no compunction about grabbing your exquisite coiffeur in my hands and dragging you from what will be my home in a few days’ time, then dropping you on your fundament outside. I may be small, but I am quite ferocious.”

  The viscountess paled. “Tobias! Will you allow her to speak to me in this fashion? I am only here to speak of business and she has insulted me.”

  Livvie glanced at him. He stood transfixed and her breath seized on the amusement glittering in his dark green eyes. He was not angry? Even though she had acted in a manner he found unbecoming.

  “You heard my fiancée, Sophie.”

  “But…but what about our business—”

  Livvie took deep, calming breaths in an effort to hold on to her emotions. “I am sure you will find some other man who will be grateful for your attentions. In the event it had escaped your notice, Lord Blade was unaffected by your advances. Now, you have an hour to depart from my home and I think I am being overly generous.”

  The viscountess marched from the room, anger evident in every line of her posture. The silence that remained was not a calm or relaxing one. Though she felt some measure of satisfaction, Livvie’s anger had not subsided. “Why did you allow her to kiss you?”

  He blinked, all traces of amusement vanishing. “I will not countenance jealous fits.”

  Jealous fits? She curled her hands into a tight fist. “I expect loyalty.”

  “I am loyal.”

  “Then—”

  “And I expect trust. I ended all liaisons when I decided to marry you. I will not have a marriage where I have to explain every damned encounter I have with a woman. I will not try and rationalize the actions of someone, when I hardly know what the hell she could have been thinking. I will not be met with jealously or anger. I’ve had enough for a lifetime,” he snapped, his voice a sharp cutting blade.

  Her heart jerked in alarm. She had never seen him show such passion before. Except in the closet, a tiny voice reminded her. “Then if you ever come upon a man pawing me, I shall expect the same trust with no explanations from me. Good day, my lord.”

  She walked away with calm serenity, wanting to rail, but knowing her passionate nature would only repulse him more. He had been very clear in his demands last night, and it might be foolish of her, but she wanted their eventual marriage to work. They were on rocky, ill formed grounds and any tiny thing could make either party break their promises, despite the possibility of a dreadful scandal…and a baby. Her hand touched the door handle, and the sudden heat of a solid wall behind her froze her. She had not heard him move.

  “I would not question your honor if I ever saw such a thing, but be assured whichever man touches you, whether it was by your invitation or not, I would break him,” he said, dangerously soft. “He would lose wealth, his friends, certainly the use of a limb or two, for even thinking to touch you, much less doing so.”

  The cold implacability of his tone sent a shiver through her, and what was even worse, she believed him to be ruthless enough to destroy any man who would have the temerity to kiss, or attempt to seduce her.

  She wriggled, wanting a bit of room to turn. He eased back slightly, and she spun to face him. She allowed a smile to tip her lips. “I am gratified you understand my emotions, my lord. I would hate to have to challenge Lady Wimple for her audacity and dishonorable behavior today. Although everything in me clamored to. You announced our engagement this morning!”

  His lips twitched and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “You are not a man, Olivia.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Dishonor is dishonor. She attempted to disrespect and shame me. And I am a crack shot, and if not pistols, I would only give her a tiny nick with my foil.”

  He unexpectedly chuckled, and the sound vibrated to the core of her.

  “We were speaking of investments, and when she heard footsteps outside, suddenly she was pressed against me, her lips on mine. You entered before I even had a chance to react.”

  Sweet relief filled her. “I thank you for the explanation.”

  “I fear I must. I would hate for you to actually challenge the woman and create an even greater scandal than the one we are currently contending with.”

  “I overstepped when I ordered her from your home. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. It is your home now.”

  “In five days’ time,” she said softly, curious at his lack of anger. “She was your fiancée once.”

  The hard planes of his darkly handsome features shuttered. “Yes.”

  “You ended the attachment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because she created a scene?”

  “You are well-informed.”

  “I had thought that must be a ghastly rumor.”

  “I cannot abide tears and screeching at the top of one’s lungs.”

  Oh. “Forgive the harsh way in which I spoke to her.”

  “I quite like your decisiveness.”

  She smiled. “I believe I have found something you actually like about me, my lord.”

  “There are several things I enjoy about you.”

  Her heart stuttered and a strange sort of exhilaration pumped through her blood. “Such as?” she demanded.

  “Your lips.”

  Her heart began to pound with such strength she felt faint.

  His eyes warmed with interest…and desire. “Your taste, scent, and your smile, they are all the same…captivating.”

  “I would have you more intrigued by my character,” she said softly.

  Her earl’s lips twitched and she tried not to stare helplessly at his sensual mouth.

  “You expect me to appreciate your opinionated willful ways?”

  She stiffened.

  He leaned in even closer. “I assure you, you are growing on me.”

  “That makes me sound like a wart, very unflattering.”

  “Now that you mentioned it…”

  The desire to touch him, to kiss his lips, was as overwhelming as it was inexplicable. Giving into a reckless impulse, she tipped and pressed her lips to his. She expected him to take command as he’d done in the closet, but instead he cradled her jaw in his large hands, keeping their kiss light and shatteringly sweet. Though their lips barely met, a thrilling sense of anticipation poured through her. With a soft groan, he deepened their embrace ever so slightly and ravished her mouth with a skilled eroticism that was spellbinding.

  He lifted his head. “Why did you come to the library?”

  “My parents are here. They arrived a few minutes ago and they are taking tea in the parlor with Lady Blade. I…I…excused myself to speak with you.”

  “Ah.”

  He dragged his thumb across her bottom lips. “And what did you wish to speak of?”

  “I will marry you, as I promised last night, and I thank you for the offer,” she said tremulously. “I do not wish for you to burden my stepfather with the possibility of a child. I want nothing to distress him. The very
hint of impropriety and scandal will be painful enough—”

  “You have my word, Olivia.”

  Relief filled her. “Thank you. My stepfather and mother are eager to speak with you…with us.”

  “I will be there shortly.”

  Still, there was something bothering her. She searched his eyes. “Why were you in the closet?”

  An awkward silence ensued.

  “Is it important to know?”

  Livvie frowned. “No, I am but curious.”

  “My former lover wanted me to pursue her by searching my chambers, the gazebo, and the closet. It is a lover’s game we had indulged in before. For some reason she thought it was appropriate here. She thought wrong.”

  Her eyes widened. “You thought I was her?”

  “Only for a second.”

  A thought occurred to her. “Do you expect me to play such games?”

  “Good God, no.”

  She was affronted at his appalled tone. “And why not? Do you not believe I am adventurous?”

  He arched an imperious brow. “Are we going to argue?”

  Livvie chuckled. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, ignoring his surprised inhalation. She slipped from the cage of his arms, and hurried down the hallway to the drawing room feeling quite happy indeed about their upcoming nuptials.

  …

  The meeting with Lady Olivia’s parents had been as Tobias had expected. There was no anger or recriminations, only hearty congratulations and well wishes from Lord and Lady Bathhurst. Speculation had been rife in their gazes, but of course, they had been too polite to question if there had been any impropriety. A few brows had been raised when he informed everyone he was in the process of obtaining a special license, and Olivia had blushed furiously.

  After an hour of tea and pleasantries, Tobias was now alone with the viscount in the library, finalizing the marriage contract. The viscount had a frown on his face, and Tobias surmised he was at the section that included his stepdaughter’s demands.

  He met Tobias’s gaze with a grimace. “Livvie has her own opinions and isn’t afraid to voice them,” he murmured.

  Tobias reclined in his chair in a deliberately casual pose. “So I’ve discovered.”

  “And what will you do with your…discovery?”

  “There is nothing to be done.”

  “Many men would say she is unruly, headstrong, and disobedient. In need of a firm guiding hand.”

  Was the man trying to persuade him to call off the rushed engagement? “Olivia is not a horse and I am not other men.”

  Speculation swirled in the Viscount’s eyes. “No, you are not. Then what would you say she is?”

  “A bit reckless and high-spirited, a brilliant painter, intelligent, witty, and quite stubborn.”

  “And this does not…dissuade you?”

  His lips twitched. “No.” It should have, but instead he was frustratingly enticed. He would have to be careful he did not lose himself to her. It would have been palatable if he were only roused sexually. But what if she tugged at his jealously? His rage? What if he lost control with her or because of her? Never had he worried about being reckless with another woman before, but it was as if her willful nature tempted him to be more…relaxed with his feelings and tempers.

  Dangerous.

  Tobias’s mother was beautiful, high-strung, and had been very reckless in her younger days. His father had fought several duels for her, sometimes the offense had simply been another man staring for a little longer than what was deemed proper. His mother, of course, had gloried in the scandals and the passionate possessiveness of her husband. What she had not realized was that his father’s possessive jealousy would bloom into him using his fists or riding crop against her whenever he succumbed to his fits of rage.

  Bile coated Tobias’s tongue and his gut clenched when he remembered the visceral reaction he’d had earlier, when Olivia had merely suggested being in another man’s arms to make a point.

  He launched from the chair and walked over to the windows. His promise to break any man who would dare touch her had been instinctive and appalling. He had done everything in his power to show an unaffected mien to his ridiculous assertions, but he had been disturbed, for surely he had sounded as demented as his father, who always vowed to his wife to defend her honor by crushing whoever dared.

  God’s blood.

  Olivia was the wrong type of woman to marry. His gut and brain knew it, but his blasted body and honor had other ideas.

  “Is everything well, Blade?” the Viscount queried.

  Tobias nodded, watching the many carriages pulling away down the long driveway. He had dismissed all the guests to his mother’s distress, ending the house party days earlier than had been originally intended. He did not care. The guests were nosy gossipers and he felt like he was a bug under a microscope in his own home. He would not have it. Worse, he’d fielded veiled insinuations from several gentlemen. He’d done the right thing by sending in the engagement announcement to the papers this morning. By tomorrow, all of England would be agog with the news, the scandal would spread, and the furor would begin. But none of it would be under his roof.

  The viscount moved to stand beside him. “Livvie has made a sound match by aligning with your family, and I could not have hoped for her to do better,” Bathurst said.

  Tobias made no answer.

  The man inhaled. “I know of your reputation, Blade. You are not a man to trifle with, and I know you can be ruthless in your business dealings. Outside of that, I have no knowledge of you.”

  Tobias shifted and faced the viscount.

  Worry glowed in the man’s eyes and his hands were fisted at his side. “Why is there a need for a special license? Her mother had always envisioned a particular wedding for Livvie.”

  Tobias hesitated. “It is best we wed sooner than later.”

  Knowledge flared in the viscount’s eyes and he froze for a few seconds before he spoke, “Your honor does you credit. I love her as my own. I would like your promise that you will treat her kindly, Blade.”

  He nodded. “You will have nothing to worry about once she is my wife.”

  Lord Bathhurst inhaled softly. “Your father—”

  “I am not my father,” Tobias said with chilling softness. He knew what the viscount was about to hint at. The rumors that had floated in society of his father’s volatile tempers, the many nights he had dragged his wife from a ball with the ton watching in horrified glee.

  “I know it is the law but I will not countenance you beating Livvie.”

  Cold anger sliced through his blood.

  The viscount tugged at his cravat. “I meant no insult but the stories about your father—”

  “I will not say this again, Bathhurst. I am not my father.”

  The memory of his father’s riding crop biting into his mother’s skin roiled through Tobias. His mother’s screams had echoed through the house and all of the servants had been scared to speak out or act in her defense. He glanced at his hand. He had been without thought and conscience as he had mercilessly beaten his father. Then he had acted with even worse disregard of others when he’d marched to the town house of his mother’s lover, raw with anger, and challenged him to a duel.

  Christ.

  The very memory had his stomach twisting in painful knots. He needed to get on the exercise mat and have a good round of boxing until he found his center calm. It would be necessary in the upcoming days.

  “I will protect your daughter and cherish the gift you are relinquishing to me, Bathhurst,” Tobias said smoothly. “If you will excuse me, there are matters I must attend to.” He nodded to the papers in the man’s hands. “I trust all is well?”

  “It is,” the viscount said.

  “Good. You and your viscountess are invited to stay until after the wedding. Make yourself completely at home. The lake is teeming with fish.”

  With a polite nod, he exited the library, eager to spar with Grayson and releas
e the tension building in his gut. What in damnation had he signed up for? And why, amidst the uncertainty, was he feeling such a profound sense of eager anticipation?

  Chapter Twelve

  Four days after losing her virtue to Tobias, Livvie was the Countess of Blade. She pinched herself again, yet she did not jerk from a dream. She was indeed married to Tobias and had been for exactly nine hours. After her parents had descended on Grangeville Park, everything had moved with shocking speed. He had insisted on a small, intimate wedding in the estate’s chapel. She had understood the urgency, especially under the circumstances.

  Her parents had been a bit flustered with the rush, but somehow Livvie felt as if her mother knew. She blushed even now, remembering when her mother had taken her aside and asked if she needed to discuss the delicate points of the wedding night. She had been mortified, but she had said no. Her mother and stepfather were well pleased with the match, and her mother even praised her on her ingenuity in compromising such a worthy husband.

  A few weeks ago, she’d never imagined she would now be a wife and a countess. Though forming a connection would have been inevitable, she’d never given much thought to the state of being married. What was she to do with her time? Would she still paint and try to sell her work? Her heart shouted yes. Her mother had spoken to her about the finer points of being a countess. Planning balls and hosting parties, from the frivolous types to political ones. She had even been advised to find a few charities to give money to.

  Livvie closed her eyes with a soft sigh. She needed to find her way in this world she had been thrown into by her own reckless heart. And she needed to learn her new husband’s ways so their situation could be comfortable. Hopefully the tension of the past few days would fade as they became more familiar with each other’s likes and dislikes. Moving from the window overlooking the splendid grounds, she sat down on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.

  I’m married.

  Her heart was suddenly pounding a furious beat and she struggled to breathe evenly. Her mother had told her it was her duty to ensure she pleased Tobias well enough, so he would give up his mistress permanently. Mortified, she’d staunchly informed her mother all such liaisons had been terminated, and she had been dealt such a look of pity her heart had cracked. Thinking about her husband kissing any other woman made Livvie’s stomach hurt and it infuriated her to think his loyalty hinged on her…her what? She had hardly understood her mother’s reasoning. Launching to her feet, she grabbed the letter her mother had given her.