Seductive Wager

by Leigh Greenwood

  There was enough room in that big bed for four people. She’d never know he shared it with her. Wouldn’t she be surprised to wake up and find his face on the pillow next to hers? It was liable to send her into hysterics or a dead faint. He wasn’t sure which was more likely, but he didn’t want to have to explain either to Mathilda.

  Brett didn’t know how long he slept before he was pulled from the depths of slumber by a soft moan. Even before his eyes could focus, he heard Kate thrashing around in the bed. The sounds increased in urgency, and as Brett fought to clear his mind of sleep, she suddenly cried out, “No! No! Oh, my God, no!”

  Wide-awake now, Brett remembered the slumbering guests in the inn, all hungry for just such a scandal as finding him sharing a room with a gently bred female would create, and in an instant he had sprung to her side and clamped his hand over her mouth. Kate’s brilliant blue eyes flew open, wide with fright, as she stared at him without recognition. She struggled frantically to break his hold, but he was much too strong.

  “Kate! Kate!” he whispered as loud as he dared. “It’s me, Brett. You’re safe now. No one is going to harm you.”

  She still didn’t know him, but at the use of her name, a puzzled look came over her lovely face. Then in sudden recognition she threw herself on him, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and sobbed into his shoulder. Worried that someone might hear her cries, Brett tried to soothe her nerves and calm her fears, but just as she would not be quieted when she shot the highwayman, so she failed to respond to his entreaties now. Soon at his wit’s end to know how to muffle the sound of her crying, Brett kissed her full on the mouth, lightly at first and then with increasing intensity. His aroused senses, bursting from restraint, were urgent in their headlong rush to savor the delicious pleasures of the soft, supple warmth that had been just beyond their reach all day.

  Brett laid a blazing trail of kisses from her lips to her eyes, over her ears, and down the fluted column of her throat to the beveled plane of her shoulders. He was intoxicated by the smell of her skin, and the sweet softness of her body caused the volcanic fires within him to blaze higher and higher. Oblivious to her resistance, he tore open the front of her gown and plunged his hand within to fondle the warm breast whose invitation he could not resist. Its soft and resilient fullness destroyed any remaining shred of control, and he lowered his head to savor its sweetness. Ignoring her shocked protests, his lips brazenly explored the softness until he became aware of a furious pounding on his head and a voice raised perilously close to a scream. Kate was furiously resisting the liberties he was taking with her body.

  Kate had not been awake when Brett enfolded her in his arms. Feeling safe nestled next to him, she had clung blindly to her protector. She enjoyed the first tender kisses, but as they increased in intensity and wandered from her lips to her ears, she became uneasy and tried to push him away. Rather than let her go, Brett held her more tightly and pressed his scalding lips down her neck and along her shoulders. In the grip of fear, she struggled to break loose, but he continued to plant little circles of fire all over her flesh. The pinpoints of heat increased in intensity until her skin felt like it would burn up from the miniature cauldrons boiling below the surface.

  To her utter amazement, Kate found her body responding to his touch. Little fingers of delicious warmth arched through her like forked lightning across the night sky. Shivers of excitement chased each other along her nerves, slowly at first, and then with mounting speed and increasing frequency until her entire being was alive and rebelling against her efforts to control it.

  This rampaging fire threatened to consume her when Brett turned his attentions to her breasts. Struggling valiantly to keep from being swept away by the swift current of these unsuspected sensations, she pounded him over the head and shoulders with her fists, but it only seemed to increase his desire and the boldness of his attack.

  “Stop,” she demanded in a fierce whisper.

  But Brett seemed not to hear her. His hands fondled a second breast and his lips sank lower until they found her nipple and started to nibble and caress until she feared she would faint from the intensity of the wildly pleasurable sensations he had kindled in her body. She sank deeper and deeper into the warm, welcoming, engulfing embrace of the startlingly new sensations that threatened to wash away her resistance completely. With one final frenzied effort, Kate forced her mind back from the treason of her senses.

  “In God’s name, Brett, have pity,” she cried, and kicked him in the groin.

  With a howl of pain, Brett came crashing back to reality. The moment he released her, Kate scrambled as far away from him as she could and pulled the bedclothes tightly up under her chin. Her magnificent eyes watched him in fear and confusion; she didn’t trust him anymore, and after what had just happened, she didn’t trust herself, either. The two of them faced each other across the expanse of the bed like embattled wild animals.

  Blazing passion still held Brett in its grasp, but the pain in his groin had broken the floodtide of its rise, and anger, a third violent emotion, penetrated his brain. Abruptly Brett tore his eyes off Kate’s face and walked over to one of the windows. He threw it open and let a blast of frigid air cascade over him. The knifing cold of the winter night caused his teeth to chatter, and he trembled from the violent cooling of his passion. He felt like a dying man in the death-dealing grip of a fever.

  But his growing anger caused him to forget his physical discomfort, and he rounded on Kate, his brow black with rage, but before either of them could speak, they heard footsteps coming quickly down the hall and a discreet but firm knock sounded on the door.

  “Mr. Franks, is anything Wrong?” a voice called, its quiet urgency laced with concern. “I heard the mistress and came as quickly as I could. Should I call Dr. Credlow?”

  Damn the nosy wench, Brett swore to himself as he spun around toward the closed door. She would ruin everything if he couldn’t fob her off with some tale.

  “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered fiercely to Kate who was still huddled under the covers. “Ill get rid of her.” Kate just stared at him and clutched the covers more tightly than ever.

  “It’s all right, child,” he said in a breathy whisper, trying to sound like a man waked out of a sound sleep. The mistress just had a nightmare.” His voice didn’t sound like Michael’s, but he hoped she would not be able to tell the difference through the door. “She’s all right now. She’s gone back to sleep.” He had no idea if Mathilda suffered from nightmares, but he could think of nothing else.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” the voice asked anxiously. “Would she like a glass of hot milk? Maybe a little whiskey to make her sleep better.”

  Persistent minx, Brett cursed. “No!” he said more emphatically. “She’s asleep, and I don’t mean to wake her. Now good night.”

  Brett waited anxiously. He heard the footsteps begin to retreat down the hall, pause, and then begin a slow, tentative return. He tensed and cursed under his breath; the footsteps paused once again, and then retreated, this time quickly, down the hall. Brett listened closely for the slightest sound, but when he heard nothing for several minutes, he let go of his breath and his body sagged against the door.

  Kate was frozen in the same position, but as Brett moved away from the door, she immediately shrank from him, her eyes reflecting her alarm.

  “You can rest easy,” he said in something like his normal voice. “I have myself under control.”

  “That’s what I thought before,” she said a trifle breathlessly but with a resumption of her old spunk. Her response to his advances had stunned her, and she was more shaken than she wanted him to realize. The closeness of his handsome, virile body frightened her, but it also filled her with an excitement as mysterious and disturbing as it was unanticipated. She needed to be able to calm her racing mind and consider the problem dispassionately, but Brett’s proximity would not allow that.

  Kate had never seen so much of a man’s bo
dy at close range, and she had never seen any man with Brett’s magnetic appeal. His shirt was open to the waist and his powerful chest, still heaving from unspent passion, was open to her wide-eyed view. His muscled calves, powerful thighs, and flat, taut abdomen all contributed to the impression of a sleek and hungry animal poised for the attack.

  In spite of her chagrin, Kate could not tear her eyes off his mesmerizing torso any more than she could deny the surge of turbulent feelings springing up within her own body. She felt her nipples harden, and she blushed fiery red as she realized her traitorous body was crying out against the constraints of her mind.

  Brett misunderstood her blush. “I would remove my inflamed body from your presence if there was anywhere I could go,” he said with punctilious formality. “Unfortunately, the only piece of furniture in the inn not already in use is this miserable chair,” he said, gesturing to the chair in the corner.

  Kate crouched lower in her corner, and with his anger draining away, Brett found himself beginning to feel sorry for her. He had been her only protection, and now he had turned himself into the enemy. She must be feeling terribly frightened and utterly alone.

  “You cried out and I tried to comfort you,” he explained. “But I’m no different from any other man, and the excitement of holding you in my arms was more than I could stand.” When she continued to stare at him in uncomprehending fear, he burst out in exasperation, “My God, girl, don’t you ever look in a mirror?”

  He stalked over to the dresser, picked up a small mirror, and thrust it in front of her. The undeniably lovely face of a young girl with wild, frightened eyes stared back at her. “Don’t you know what a beautiful woman you are?” Brett thundered in her ears. “Every part of you cries out to be admired, touched, loved. Just being near you is enough to drive a man crazy. No wonder your brother kept you out of sight. He’d have had men climbing over the walls and in through the windows.”

  “I’m not blind, sir,” Kate replied, a little frightened by the excessive energy of his outburst. “I realize I’m pretty…”

  “Pretty!” Brett barked. “What bloodless turnip ever used such a paltry word to describe you? You’re not pretty, my girl, you’re absolutely stunning, and the mere sight of you sets my blood boiling. Pretty!” he repeated in disgust. “That sounds like the kind of stupid thing Martin would say.”

  Kate struggled to contain her pleasure and mask her confusion. ‘That may be, but no one ever became so overexcited by my beauty as you.”

  “That’s only because they never saw you. To have you this close and not be able to touch is worse punishment than a whipping. Go back to sleep,” he said, hoping to calm his own racing pulses. “It’s past two o’clock already and the kitchen wakes up at a beastly hour.” He settled into his chair, tucked the blanket up under his armpits so it wouldn’t fall away during his slumbers, and leaned back closing his eyes. It would be some time before he got to sleep, but he was not going to let her guess that. He was not willing to admit to himself yet just how much she had disturbed him.

  Kate stared resentfully at him but continued to sit up straight in her corner, her mind occupied with thoughts of what had almost happened. She was completely lacking in any practical knowledge of the feelings that could exist between a man and woman, but she knew enough to realize that what had occurred between her and Brett must have happened to many others. Yet how was she to know what was right and what was not? Her mother had never talked to her, certainly her aunt never had, and it would never have occurred to her father that a girl needed to be told anything. All she knew was what she could guess from the scraps of conversations she had overheard between Martin and Isabella, but she could not bring herself to take either of them as a model. Even though the thought of being alone in a strange city nearly frightened her to death, she desperately looked forward to meeting other girls of her own age in London.

  After four years of virtual imprisonment, she was nearly starved for companionship. She needed someone to gossip with, someone with whom she could share confidences about men, clothes, and all those things girls enjoy talking about so much with other girls. But most of all she needed someone to talk to about the strange and unmanageable feelings that this man caused in her. They frightened and shocked her badly, but at the same time enthralled her.

  London also meant parties, dresses, and lots and lots of people. She wanted to go to all the best parties, flirt with the most handsome men, dance every dance with a different partner, and stay up till dawn.

  She dreamily imagined herself dancing with a handsome man under the moonlight, an orchestra playing softly in the distance, and the soft June breezes murmuring through the trees and mussing her hair. Her dress billowed behind her in weightless folds, her eyes sparkled, her hair was dressed with ribbons, and jewels beyond price lay on her white and heaving bosom. Her warm velvety skin glowed like living pearl in the moonlight. She sank even deeper into her pillows savoring the delicious sensations.

  Mesmerized by her beauty, her partner held her tightly and whirled her round and round to the strains of the forbidden waltz. Shyly yet eagerly, she lifted her head and looked deep into his eyes, an enchanting smile playing across her inviting lips. As she stared ever deeper into his eyes, they danced faster and faster, and his eyes held hers in a hypnotic trance. It would have been impossible to look away even if she had wanted to. He held her so tightly she could hardly breathe. She could feel every inch of his body against her, her breasts pressed hard against his granite chest, his lean, muscled thigh against her leg. With a start, she realized his face was Brett’s face, his magnificent body, too, and his great comforting strength.

  He lowered his head slowly and his slightly parted lips met hers in a kiss of such shattering intensity she felt weak, barely able to stand on her own feet. His tongue raked her mouth and his hands played up and down her back creating patterns of dancing fire and making her body warm in response. As the kiss swelled in intensity she was overcome by its force, and a great lassitude came over her. She was unable to resist the force of his kiss, unable to separate herself from him. Kate smiled and snuggled further down in the bed. She drifted over the border into sleep on this feeling of disembodied passion.

  Chapter 6

  Both man and woman slipped into uneasy repose, victims of turbulent emotions heated to the point of eruption and then cooled with the agonizing abruptness of volcanic lava plunged into an arctic sea. Awake, they fought the passions that threatened to consume them, but in slumber, they succumbed to dreams of desire’s torment.

  Kate was the first to fall asleep and the first to cry out. Her lips formed Brett’s name silently at first, but as her need became more urgent, a dry whisper of entreaty evolved. Her voice, reaching him through the mists of a deep sleep, seemed weak and far away. At first his mind tried to drive away her importuning cry, but it sounded again and again until an answering restlessness was ignited within him which threw off the armor of his exhaustion. He crossed the small space between them, and their bodies entwined like long-separated halves of a single whole.

  Brett cradled Kate in his arms, infusing her with his heat; his lips found hers, and he kissed her with growing warmth until he had kindled an answering fire within her. Her supple form melted into his embrace and her lips clung hungrily to his.

  His hands caressed her shoulders, the column of her throat, roamed freely over her smooth, soft skin until they found and uncovered her breasts, caressing and teasing them into hard peaks of desire. His hot, dry lips found them, too, and his scorching tongue traced little arabesques of scalding heat on her silky skin. His hands burned the surface of her body like branding irons claiming every part of her as his own.

  By the time Brett came fully awake to what he was doing, his senses were inflamed beyond control. No hint of caution, no word of warning could have cooled the raging desire that consumed his being. His hands wandered over Kate’s body until he drove her into full consciousness of her own desire and the flood of passion
that was overwhelming her.

  Her consciousness drugged by an equally insistent need, Kate woke to awareness more slowly than Brett. She tried to resist, even though her mind was surprised by the sweetness of this heady passion, but her body, glorying in its awakening, rushed joyfully toward its fate. The heat of Brett’s manhood against her sensitive skin sent tendrils of flame and pleasure racing along her body. Unable to hold back any longer, Kate clung ever more tightly to Brett, pressing her body against his, pleading with him to become one with her.

  Yet even though he was being driven by a need greater than any he had experienced before, Brett moved with caution and gentleness, heedful of her inexperience. It was this small remnant of control that alerted him to danger when he encountered the resistance of her maidenhead. The knowledge that Kate was a virgin and a lady pierced the cloak of desire that enveloped him, and he paused, irresolute, caught between a feeling that he must not proceed further and a raw need that demanded fulfillment. Something deep within him valiantly struggled to stem the onrushing tide of passion, some inner voice warned that he would forever regret this rash action, but Kate arched her body against his, uttering a groan of desire, and Brett was plunged headlong over the precipice of no return.

  Still Brett refrained from joining his body to hers, letting his hands, mouth, tongue continue their feverish activity, working to propel Kate to a higher pitch of excitement, to a state of delirium where she would be almost unaware of pain. Finally, he entered her with a quick, knifelike thrust and she gasped with the double shock of pain and almost unbearable pleasure. Her ecstasy mounted quickly and she rose higher and higher to meet his pounding rhythm. She urged him on with a fury he never dreamed possible, demanding that he give her joy beyond her wildest expectations and igniting in him a similar desire to rise to his own pinnacle of triumph.

  Brett fought to slow their feverish rush toward fulfillment, to prolong the exquisite pleasure found in the ever-expanding ripples of sensual delight, but Kate, unaware of the even greater bliss to be found in prolonging their union, drove him on with her body, demanding, beseeching him to release her from the almost unbearable torment that enslaved her. Finally, just as she thought she could stand no more, that she must lose consciousness from the jarring impact of this sweet agony, he released his passion within her and she felt that indescribable satisfaction of simultaneous release and fulfillment. Her whole body shuddered and grew rigid with pleasure as the waning pulses of his passion sent ripples of white-hot ecstasy through her. Slowly they relaxed and fell apart.