Lori Brighton - [The Seduction 02]

by To Capture a Rake

  He paused close, so close his warm breath whispered across her lips. “I’m not seduced. I do the seducing.”

  He caught her gasp of surprise with his mouth. Damn it all, her body immediately reacted to his touch, as if she was dying and only he could bring her back to life. He tasted like whiskey and mint. Like him. Only him. How she craved his taste, his scent, the very feel of him. It took all of her control not to thrash at his shirt, tear the material from his chest. He made her utterly mad with desire.

  He pulled away from her, his lips trailing down her jawline to her sensitive neck. The rain fell, pattering against the leaves, a musical tune that urged her onward. Lightning could have struck, hail could have fallen, the entire world could have ended, yet she wouldn’t have cared.

  “Do you want me?” He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him, his gaze hard and unrelenting. He frightened her as much as he excited her. “Answer me.”

  He was vulgar and rough and she didn’t care. Their only night together had left her aching with a need only he could fulfill. She’d woken up every morning miserable and angry. But now it was as if she was finally getting nourishment after having fasted.

  “Perhaps I do want you.” She challenged him even as the rain fell around them, trailing down the hard planes of his face. Even as thunder rumbled through the countryside, shaking the ground and rattling the trees. And even while she was terrified of his response.

  His gaze narrowed, and a primitive growl seeped from his lips. An animalistic sound that sent a shiver over her skin. A muscled arm wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her with ease, pressing her back to the tree. His strength was overwhelming and made her aware in so many ways of how different they were from each other.

  How she’d dreamt of this the last few nights. His obvious desire tore through her resolve. She was horrible, dreadful, no better than the women who sold their bodies in London. She didn’t care, she didn’t care if she lost her soul, at the moment she only wanted him deep inside her.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to the man who made her feel wanton and beautiful. Made her feel like no other man had ever made her feel before. The warm breeze brushed her legs as he lifted her skirts, bunching them up to her waist. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pressing to her bodice with an eagerness that should have been embarrassing.

  “Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, shifting so his hard cock pressed to her lower belly.

  As if he couldn’t tell. The bastard wanted her to beg. “Yes,” she practically moaned.

  His mouth found hers as his fingers slid into the waistband of her undergarments. Good God, he would take her here in the forest where anyone could happen upon them. Sadly, she didn’t care.

  His tongue delved between her lips, deepening the kiss until she was consumed by his presence. Elizabeth welcomed him fully, meeting his tongue thrust for thrust. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out the patter of rain. His hand brushed the soft area shielding her femininity, and Elizabeth practically cried out.

  He tore his mouth from hers, his breath harsh upon her lips. “You’re so damn wet.”

  His vulgar comment only added to her desire. When his fingers touched her silken folds, pleasure sparked through her body. But he wasn’t done quite yet. He lifted his hips, grinding his hard cock against her thighs.

  “More?” he whispered, so good at reading her mind.

  “Please,” she groaned, her nails biting into his broad shoulders.

  He slipped one finger into her dampness. Pure pleasure. She clenched her teeth, arching her back and taking him deeper. He was tormenting her with desire and need. With one arm he held her to the rough bark of the tree, and with his other hand he managed to slide his finger in and out of her very heat.

  “I want you underneath me,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “I want to thrust deep within you.”

  Yes, she wanted to agree. Yes. Yes. Yes!

  Suddenly her undergarments were yanked down, the warm summer air whispered against her thighs and bottom. “So tight,” he muttered.

  Her hair was plastered in wet clumps to her head, her clothing soaked, but she didn’t care. When she lifted her head, his lips met hers in a bruising kiss. She knew, when he slipped two fingers into her sheath, she knew that he was going to do it, he was going to seduce her there, in the open, as the rain fell upon the trees of Western England. He was going to prove he could have her anywhere…anytime. And she was going to let him.

  His thumb brushed across that nub between her folds. Elizabeth cried out as shiver after shiver of delight pulsed through her body. A feeling so strong that she would have collapsed had he not been holding her upright. His entire body had turned to stone, she could feel the muscles strain beneath his clothing, pushing at the seams. Could feel his cock swell, pulsing against her. She knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but he wouldn’t give in. He was proving a point, showing her who was in charge.

  His thumb brushed her again as his fingers slid inside. Elizabeth shuddered, whimpering as the ache between her legs tightened into an unbearable need.

  “Please, Gideon.” She arched her hips.

  For that brief moment she didn’t care if she acted the whore. She only cared about feeling once more. For one brief moment nothing in life mattered but him. He shifted, sliding his thigh between her legs. His thumb brushed her again and she was lost. The entire world exploded into pure white pleasure.

  “Gideon,” she cried out, her voice echoing against the trees.

  His tongue slid down her neck as he tasted her skin. Elizabeth shivered, his touch too intense. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from her. She felt as if he’d torn her heart from her chest and held it firmly in his grip. Elizabeth groaned. Completely gone, she sank into him, her body trembling and spent.

  The sensual cocoon that enveloped them faded. Never had she experienced anything like this before. It was as if her body was no longer her own. He’d taken over her mind, heart, soul. The rain was coming down in hard sheets that pierced the trees and stung her skin, but still they didn’t move.

  She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to pull her arms from around his neck and step away from him. She didn’t want everything to return to how it had been. No, she wanted to stay pressed to his hard body, to feel his heart beat against hers. She wanted to lick his skin and taste him as he had tasted her. She wanted to pretend he cared.

  But Gideon’s harsh breath slowly returned to normal. Before she could pull him close, he released his hold, letting her feet hit the ground and her skirts fall down around her ankles. Elizabeth leaned back against the tree, too overcome to move on her own. He’d awakened something inside her she hadn’t even known existed.

  He stepped back, those eyes hooded and unreadable, his body stiff. “Did I hurt you?”

  She was startled by his softly spoken question, startled and yes, encouraged. Did he actually care? She slowly brushed her skirts free of debris, then tucked the hair that had come loose behind her ears, giving herself time to respond.

  Lord, it was too difficult to think. Her skin felt overly sensitive as the rain trailed down her face and arms. Her heart still hammered, and even though she had come, her body still felt the desperate desire to be touched by this man. They needed time, just a few moments to collect their bearings before returning home. She took her lower lip between her teeth, unsure how to feel. Did she imagine the vulnerability in his gaze? She studied his thick lashes dripping with rain, the damp curls of hair that clung to his forehead, the harsh planes of his face.

  “You would never hurt me,” she finally replied.

  His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment she swore she saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced with a hard determination to keep her at bay. His mask was back in place. Who was the real Gideon?

  He shook his head, stepping back. He might as well have been in another country. “You have no idea what I am capabl
e of.”

  Without another word, he turned and started toward the estate, intending to leave her behind. Elizabeth scooped up her skirts and raced after him. How dare he show her such pleasure, then abandon her in the woods no less. She had the disconcerting feeling that he was trying to outrun her.

  They didn’t speak on the way home. Not while the rain poured from the sky and soaked them both. Not even when they reached the house and raced up the gravel path toward the front door.

  Any hurt was replaced with anger. “Gideon, we need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.” He opened the door and stepped into the shelter of the foyer, as if he was completely done with her. He treated her as if…as if she was merely a client and he her whore. Damn it all, how had things become such a terrible mess so quickly?

  “Gideon, please.” She started to reach for him, but before her fingertips touched his arm, he spun around, gripping her wrist tightly.

  The fury upon his face frightened her more than she wanted to admit. “What do you want from me?”

  Before she could respond, he jerked her into an alcove, hidden by a velvet curtain. Darkness surrounded them, the scent of age and dust in the air.

  “You want to make a deal?” His hands found her waist, his body warm against her. Elizabeth was greatly aware of the fact that he could take her there in the privacy of the alcove and no one would be the wiser. A shudder of desire went through her.

  “Y-yes,” she whispered. “I want to make the deal.”

  “And what are the details, exactly?”

  His face was shadowed, his eyes unreadable, but she could sense the tension in his body. She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to that spot at his neck where his collar was open and the skin showed. A pulse beat there, reminding her that he was human after all. He slipped his finger underneath her chin and tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him. “Kissing?”

  She nodded. From somewhere in the distance she could hear a maid whistling. The world seemed so very far away. A reality she didn’t wish to visit. No, she’d rather stay here in their own private cocoon.

  “Touching?” His voice came out raspy, telling.

  She had the sudden realization that he wanted her. But how much? Did his body burn as hers did? Did he dream about her at night? She hated it…hated not knowing how he felt. Hated feeling so completely out of control. “Yes, touching.”

  “Where?” he asked, leaning so close that his mouth brushed hers, a sweet and gentle kiss. She didn’t believe it for a moment.

  She licked her lower lip, nervous and anxious. “Anywhere.”

  Gideon shifted closer, pressing up against her body, his hips to hers so she could feel the proof of his desire. “Anywhere,” he whispered against her mouth.

  Yes, she had come in that forest only moments ago, but it wasn’t the same as having him completely inside of her. She wanted to feel his cock deep within. She wanted to watch his face as he experienced the same rapture as she. Elizabeth had a feeling he would have taken her then and there, but the sudden thump of hurried footsteps interrupted their hazy seduction. Elizabeth stiffened. He sighed.

  “Mama!” Mouse called out, completely ruining the mood.

  Answers would have to wait. Still trembling, Elizabeth ducked under his arm and brushed aside the curtain, meeting her daughter in the middle of the foyer. Part of her was relieved to have been interrupted, part of her disappointed. “What is it?”

  “I’ve been waiting ever so impatiently for you,” the girl said, her lower lip quivering.

  Her lust faded as worry took its place. Elizabeth knelt before her, straightening the large mauve bow that hung over Cally’s right eye. Yes, the child was a tad overly dramatic at times, but there was something in her stance that bothered Elizabeth. “What’s wrong?”

  The child’s gaze was wide with worry and fear. “She’s here.”

  She didn’t need to ask for further explanation.

  “Oh God,” Elizabeth whispered, straightening just as the sharp tap of booted feet echoed down the corridor. The old woman who appeared dressed in black might have resembled a merry English wife with her round, rosy face and plump body, but she was the very devil incarnate.

  Her mother-in-law had arrived.

  Elizabeth’s time had run out.

  Chapter 10

  The clock on the mantel ticked the seconds by; each minute closer to that seven was like mocking laughter. Ha-ha. Ha-ha. Ha-ha.

  Elizabeth took in a deep, shuddering breath and tore her gaze from the doorway, refusing to act like a dog awaiting her master. Still she couldn’t help but wonder if Gideon would attend dinner. Although she’d been pushing her luck, she had sent a note inviting him. Now, if only he’d arrive so she didn’t look the fool.

  “Was wearing white at her age, can you believe it?” Miss Howell complained in a harsh whisper from down the table where she sat next to the dowager.

  John, the dowager’s only remaining son, slouched in a chair near the center of the table, drinking wine as if in a race to see who could get foxed the quickest. She had a feeling he would win. Only two years her junior, the lad was quite the attractive prospect, with his dark hair and blue eyes, but his rakish disposition left much to be desired.

  “We must forgive at times,” the dowager replied to her companion. Dressed in black, they were like two ravens picking at a carcass. “The people below us who do not have the instinct or bearing…”

  Elizabeth lifted her wineglass and sipped the heady liquid, letting it soothe her racing mind and giving John some competition. Silly that she had set out the best bone china with the rose and gold pattern and the fine lace tablecloth from Brussels. Silly that she had told the staff to make sure the crystal chandelier sparkled and the velvet brown curtains were dusted. Did she truly believe that Gideon would become so enamored with the table setting that he would declare his undying love and decide to stay?

  But something had changed in those woods. Elizabeth traced the rim of her glass. Something had shifted within Gideon and shifted between them. For a brief moment, for ten blessed minutes, Gideon had seemed like a normal man. There had been no anger or hardness in his gaze. There had been only the briefest flash of interest, of life, of hope. She realized with a start that for the first time since meeting him she actually wanted Gideon here. Not for her ease or the children’s, but because she craved his company. Hell, she found the man fascinating.

  Elizabeth glanced toward the clock on the mantel. Two minutes left. She would give him only two more minutes, then leave him for the lost cause that he was. She smoothed down her skirts, realizing how ridiculous she’d been to wear her best dark blue silk, hoping to impress the man when she had a feeling Gideon was very rarely impressed with anyone but himself.

  Just when she was ready to give up, the soft fall of footsteps sent her pulse racing. She told herself that it was surely only a servant but couldn’t prevent her gaze from focusing eagerly on the door. Blast it all if her heart didn’t beat with a hopeful rhythm. When Gideon appeared like some Roman god in a dark English suit, she felt as if the very sun had risen. His eyes locked on hers, and the entire world faded.

  “My lady.” He bowed low, then moved toward her with a purpose that made her nervous.

  What was he up to now? Before she realized his intentions, he took her hand, and she felt the velvety brush of his lips against her skin. It was only a brief moment in time, but it felt like eternity. He studied her form in one fell swoop, taking in her lips, lower to her neckline, leaving her shaken and disturbed by her body’s reaction to the man.

  Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, moving to the chair next to her. He didn’t enter like a man ashamed of his station. No, he moved slowly, purposefully, as if he belonged there, and he did, although he didn’t realize it. But it was his calm expression, his debonair being, that she knew held the small group enthralled. Her wariness grew. He was there for her, only her. But why? What was his plan?


  He placed his napkin across his lap, showing practiced manners. “How is everyone this fine evening?”

  Elizabeth’s lips lifted into an amused grin. She couldn’t quite help herself. He was charming, but he was also a rogue, and he was playing games with them. Miss Howell didn’t dare respond, and John merely grunted something indecipherable.

  “If you must know, my gout is acting up,” her mother-in-law complained.

  Oh well done! Suddenly the evening took on a far more exciting prospect. Quite amused, Elizabeth slid her gaze toward Gideon to see how he would respond to the dowager’s comment.

  He shook his head slowly in feigned empathy while those scarred fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of his wineglass. “My, my, that is quite terrible.”

  Elizabeth lifted her napkin to her lips, hiding her grin. Really, it was like watching a play in which half the actors didn’t know their lines. He was baiting them, and the dowager was baiting him. Who would come out the winner? She’d place her coins on Gideon. Oh, this perfect gentleman was much, much more dangerous than that cold, angry Gideon she’d met at Lady Lavender’s.

  “As much as I find this conversation titillating,” John said, pushing away from the table and tossing his napkin to the chair. “I am meeting friends.”

  “John,” the dowager hissed, but the lad was already headed toward the door. The dowager flushed, but Elizabeth didn’t bother to feel sorry for the woman, for she knew where her anger would eventually land…her and the children.

  “What were we discussing?” Gideon prompted, easing the tense atmosphere.

  “Well,” Miss Howell started hesitantly, picking at the ruffled collar of her black gown, as if finding answers in the weave of the material. “We were just discussing how wrong it is for Lady Perveal to wear white at her age.”

  Gideon lifted his glass to his lips. The lamplight highlighted the hard planes of his face, and shadows from his thick lashes rested against his cheeks. He hadn’t shaved but left the scruff she so loved along his cheeks and chin. Had she thought he looked like a god? No, more like a dashing pirate.