Lady Beauchamp's Proposal

by Secret Cravings Publishing

  She couldn’t be with him. Not the way he wanted. And certainly not the way he deserved. He deserved to have the love of a woman who could truly be his. She had to make him see that there was no point in hoping for a happily ever after.

  She had to send him away.

  She tried to withdraw her hand from his darkly stubbled cheek, but he wouldn’t let her. His eyes narrowed, grew darker as his grip tightened imperceptibly, not enough to hurt, but enough to let her know she wasn’t going to be allowed to escape. Not this time. Not until she confessed. Judging by the determined look in his eyes right at this moment, resisting him wasn’t going to be easy.

  She blinked away tears. Drew in a shaky breath as she prepared to hurt him. Again. “James, it doesn’t matter what I want or how I feel—”

  “Of course it bloody matters,” he said with such unexpected harshness, she winced. “You know how I feel about you. Despite everything you’ve told me, that hasn’t changed, Beth. And if there’s any chance at all that you care for me…that you love me…I need to know.”

  His voice had a desperate, raw edge to it and she felt a sharp stab of conscience. Now that she knew how deeply he’d been scarred by Isabelle, she understood why it was so important for him to know that he was loved.

  But she couldn’t ignore the cold stark fact that there could never be any real future for them. Not when she believed he still had a chance to meet and fall for someone else that would love him equally in return. Another woman that was free and that he could wed. Who could give him the children he must long for. An heir that was actually his.

  And she couldn’t be that woman.

  She shook her head. This was so hard, denying him what he so wanted to hear, what she so wanted to tell him. “James. I’m Hugh’s wife. No matter how much you or I wish it wasn’t so, we can’t overlook that. You deserve so much more than I can ever give you. I’m not worthy—”

  Some potent emotion she couldn’t quite name—perhaps it was desire, anger or despair or a combination of all three—flared in the dark depths of his eyes, and he reached out to grasp her face between his large hands so she couldn’t look away. “What rubbish, Beth. I know I reacted badly when you admitted that you were married. But I was shocked and hurt, and I said things that I shouldn’t have…” His gaze fell to her mouth and for an instant she thought he was going to kiss her with bruising force. Stake his claim.

  But the moment passed quickly and instead, his hands slid in a gentle caress to rest upon her shoulders. His dark scowl faded to be replaced with a look of contrition. “I’m truly sorry for how I behaved.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, James—”

  “But I do. You and Isabelle are nothing alike, and I had no right to compare your actions to hers. You are everything to me. And regardless of the fact that you are married, I still want you…” His eyes locked with hers, and when he spoke again his voice was deep and soft like a velvet sigh in the dark. “I can’t help it. I love you, Beth.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth as he ran his thumb along her lower lip, and she couldn’t suppress the hot tremor of desire that shot through her, all the way to her very toes. Such a tender, coaxing, calculated caress; he was clearly trying to seduce her into an admission. “I’ve told you before I am a selfish man…I’ll have you any way I can…everyone and everything else be damned.”

  Oh foolish heart. Foolish hope.

  You must be strong and crush them, Elizabeth.

  But that was becoming increasingly hard to do as the heat of James’s touch and his gaze began to seep through to her core, melting her bones and her resolve into a molten puddle, as if she was as insubstantial as a beeswax candle that had been set too close to a furnace.

  Damn him. Why couldn’t he see that she was trying to send him away for his own good? That he was better off without her?

  She dragged the last remnants of her will together. “Being with you would be wrong.”

  He sighed and a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What are you going to do then, Beth? I’m damn certain that you’re not going back to Hugh. Are you really going to spend the next ten to fifteen years—however long Hugh lives—in hiding, as some poorly paid companion or lowly governess?” He tilted her chin up and searched her eyes. “Can you really face that? All those long, lonely years ahead? Now that would be wrong.”

  “What alternative do I have?” she whispered, unable to hide the traitorous, telling catch in her voice. She was so tired of fighting him. And herself.

  He smiled slowly and trailed a finger along her jaw, down her neck until he encountered the neckline of her chaste flannel nightrail. He flicked the top button open. “You could stay with me.”

  He undid the next button, his eyes never leaving hers. “If you wanted to.”

  The last button came undone. “If you loved me.”

  Such temptation. Heaven help her.

  “Tell me, Beth.” His dark gaze fell to her mouth again, and he leant forward and placed a feather-light, almost innocent kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Am I your love?” Another teasing kiss on her cheek, then on her jaw. “Or do you feel nothing for me?” His breath was warm against her skin, and she shivered as he mercilessly traced a line of kisses from her earlobe, down her now exposed neck to the exquisitely sensitive flesh just above her collarbone.

  “James…” Her voice emerged as a husky moan.

  “Yes, Beth?”

  “I…I can’t think when you kiss me.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to think.” She felt his lips curve in a smile against her heated skin before he placed another kiss on her throat where her pulse fluttered wildly like a trapped creature. “I want you to tell me how you feel.”

  “You’re not being fair.”

  His gaze returned to hers. Hot, dark, compelling. “I know.” Another kiss, this time on her mouth. Ever so soft like a whispered prayer.

  “Tell me.” He breathed against her lips. “For the love of God, Beth…”

  A rake’s ploys she could attempt to resist. But against this raw, naked need, she was helpless. She summoned her voice and at last uttered the words he’d been longing to hear.

  “I love you.”

  * * * *

  Rothsburgh groaned against Beth’s mouth.

  Yes. At last. Thank God and all his angels. Elation and desire flared inside him in equal measure. But hearing it once wasn’t enough.

  He leant his forehead against hers. “Say it again,” he demanded thickly, fighting back tears.

  “I love you, James,” she murmured huskily, a smile like the warmest sunshine in her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Drew him closer until their noses touched and their breath mingled. “I love you.”

  He must have died and gone to heaven. He exhaled on a great shuddering sigh and placed his hand at the base of her throat, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, the frantic beating of her heart that echoed the thunder of his. “And you’ll stay with me?”

  She didn’t hesitate to answer now. “Yes. I’m yours.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes,” She reached for his cheek and touched his tears with trembling fingers. “Oh James…”

  “I love you, Beth.”

  * * * *

  For the first time ever, Elizabeth allowed herself to feel the full force of James’s words, to let the idea of ‘I love you’ and everything that meant, penetrate her being. It was like being suffused with the purest delight, the essence of joy itself.

  And it was all because of James. This powerful, charismatic, beautiful man who rested his head against hers and cried his joy simply because she’d told him she loved him in return. Tears welled in her eyes. It was almost too much happiness for her to bear.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered on a tremulous breath.

  James drew back a little and his wide mouth tilted into a gentle, lop-sided smile. “With pleasure, my love.”

  One of his hands shifted to the nape of her neck whilst
the other curled gently around her shoulder, pulling her closer as he ever so slowly angled his head lower, and then covered her mouth with his. His lips slid against hers, satiny soft, as gentle as spring rain, and she sagged against him, boneless and melting as a sweet warmth like slowly flowing honey spread throughout her entire body.

  Her lips curved into a smile beneath his as she realized that this was what truly being in love felt like.

  But this tender melding of mouths was soon not enough. Elizabeth could sense the rising heat and tension in James’s body—in the way his lips firmed against hers, how the muscles of his shoulders tightened beneath her hands, the increased pace of his breathing. James’s tongue teasingly flicked against her bottom lip and with a moan, she opened her mouth for him. He responded with his own deep, throaty sound of satisfaction before boldly stroking his tongue against hers, tasting her mouth with a thoroughness that made her nipples ache and moisture well at the apex of her thighs.

  Hard to believe that moments ago she had been contemplating a life without James, a life without these intoxicating kisses that so effortlessly aroused her. A life without this extraordinary bliss. It was unthinkable. She must have been mad.

  Ignoring the protest of her cut hands, she buried her fingers into the silky blackness of his hair at the back of his head, dragging him closer, at the same time that she restlessly crushed her breasts against the hot hard wall of his chest, greedily seeking more of the feel and taste of him, this infinitely addictive man.

  She broke the kiss. “You are wearing far too many clothes,” she breathed raggedly, tugging futilely at his coat.

  “Agreed,” he growled. “As are you, my sweet.” He hooked his hand into the opening of her nightrail, and ignoring her gasp, rent the flannel from neckline to waist. “I really hate this thing you know,” he said with a hint of satisfied amusement lurking beneath the huskiness of his voice. “I’ve been dying to do that since I walked in.”

  “Is it really that dreadful?” she asked with mock indignation even as excitement spiked within her, making her nipples peak and her sex throb with anticipation.

  “Yes. You know it is. Now lie back so I can rip the rest off you.”

  She eagerly acquiesced to his demand, pushing herself back into the lumpy narrow mattress before James used both hands, to swiftly tear the rest of the offending garment in two.

  He gently parted both sides, and with fixed concentration, regarded her trembling naked body. She could feel his rapt visual ravishment of her, clean through to her very bones. It made her heart race and her blood pulse heavily, and she pressed her thighs together trying to the ease the needy pressure. But it was to no avail. She needed his hands on her. As if in concert with her thoughts, he placed one large hand at the base of her throat, then with a light, teasing touch, ran it down the length of her body, across her breasts, over her belly, all the way to the tight thatch of curls between her thighs, raising goose bumps. She shivered and closed her eyes, waiting for him to touch her there, right where she craved it most.

  But he didn’t. Damn him. He was going to make her wait. She made a mew of frustration and heard him chuckle right before she heard the thud of his boots on the floor.

  “Patience, my love.”

  Opening her eyes again, she watched James steadily, hungrily as he undressed in front of her, his smoldering black gaze never leaving her face as he tugged at his cravat and stripped off his coat, waistcoat and shirt. She bit her lip to stop herself from gaping as her eyes traced over all of the broad planes, sharp angles and defined ridges of his lean, muscular body. His breeches quickly joined the heap of discarded clothing on the floor, and she swallowed, mesmerized at the sight of his rigid, proudly jutting cock, long and thick, and ready for her.

  Her fingers itched to touch him, and she pulled her arms from the remnants of her nightrail. “Come to bed, James, before I freeze to death,” she whispered. Or die of frustration.

  Before she could blink, James slid his large body over hers. He was like a furnace, radiating the heat of a thousand summer suns. “Christ, Beth, you’re like ice.” He enveloped her shivering body and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and tangled her legs with his, relishing the sensation of his hot, hard length against her. Especially the impudent jut of his cock against her belly. She started to squirm beneath him and she felt him shake with laughter.

  “Jesus, it’s like being in bed with a cold, wriggly jellyfish.”

  She humphed into his ear, resisting the sudden and unfamiliar, yet highly appealing urge to slap him on the taut cheek of one his buttocks, only because she knew it would hurt her more than him. “Well you have no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who decided to get rid of my warm and completely sensible nightrail.”

  James drew back and rested on his elbows to study her, wicked amusement glinting in his eyes. “Beth, you’re just lucky I love and want you so much that I could see past that hideous thing, to the treasures lying beneath.” He pushed his hips against her, teasing her with the thrust of his cock. “Besides, all you need to keep warm, is me.”

  She smiled. “I won’t disagree with you there.” She reached up and stroked his jaw with her bandaged fingers, and he pressed into her palm, like a large satisfied lion. She fancied she could almost hear him purr. “I wish I could touch you, the way I want to,” she whispered.

  James kissed her palm. “In time. Your hands will heal, my love.” Dark mischief sparked in his eyes, and he grasped her by both wrists, bringing them up above her head and holding them in place with one hand. His grip was uncompromising. “I could keep them out of the way though. Tie you up. So I don’t inadvertently hurt you.” He kissed her, his tongue dancing suggestively against hers for a moment before he withdrew. “What do you say?” He nuzzled the sensitive flesh behind her ear before kissing her mouth again, this time with deep, bone melting languor. “I’d be nothing but gentle.”

  Beth made herself frown. “And I’d be completely at your mercy.” The idea was shocking yet she couldn’t deny it was also highly arousing.

  “Entirely. Would that be so bad?”

  “Very bad. Wicked.”

  He gave her a devastatingly rakish grin. “My thoughts exactly.”

  He bent his head and bestowed another deeply ravishing kiss that soon had her moaning against his mouth, and arching against him in an agony of unsatisfied need. “James…”

  “Mhmm.” He dropped a trail of nipping kisses along her jawline.

  “I want…”

  A longer kiss at the juncture of her collar bones. ‘I know what you want, my love…’ he murmured against her trembling skin. “Trust me…you’ll enjoy what I have planned.”

  If I don’t die first— She cried out as James suddenly took one of her aching, tightly furled nipples into his mouth and suckled hard. A bolt of heat lanced through her all the way to her wet sex, and she bucked against his firm hold on her wrists. But he didn’t let go. Instead he mercilessly teased her breasts with teeth and lips and tongue and fingers, until she was incoherent and helpless with desire.

  “Please, James…” This torture was too cruel.

  He chuckled against the underside of one breast, his breath teasing her oh-so sensitive flesh before he raised his head and flashed her a devilish grin. “I’ll make a deal with you, my love. If you promise to keep your hands above your head, I’ll touch you here.” At that precise moment, two of his fingers slid unerringly between her wet folds into her inner sheath and her whole body bowed upwards as another shaft of sizzling pleasure seared through her.

  “I promise,” she gasped.

  “Good girl.”

  He released his hold on her wrists, and whilst continuing to torment her breasts, he began to slide his long fingers in and out of her, stroking the front wall of her passage whilst the pad of his thumb circled around and around her center of pleasure. Such agony, such bliss. She couldn’t hold her arms straight above her head any longer, and she folded them around her head, biting
her lip to stop herself crying out as James continued his pleasurable assault on her, the pressure in her sex spiraling higher and tighter, as tight as the tautened wire on a bow about to release its arrow, so close to climax it hurt. She teetered on the quivering edge. Surely she would come soon…She had to. Oh, please.

  James tugged one last time on her nipple with his teeth at the same time he pressed into her throbbing core and on a sobbing cry, she came apart beneath him.

  Her womb seemed to convulse endlessly as she was tossed about on a tumultuous sea of powerful release; the only thing holding her steady and anchored to reality was James’s warm embrace, his soft kiss at her temple, her fevered brow, the corner of her mouth.

  “I told you that you’d enjoy it, didn’t I?” he whispered against her lips before kissing her softly on the mouth.

  Still largely insensible, Beth stretched languorously beneath James before encircling her arms about his neck. She opened sleepy eyes and looked up at him. Even though he was right, she narrowed her eyes and frowned. He looked entirely too smug for her liking.

  “You think you’re clever don’t you?” she teased, arching her back a little so her belly pressed into his still ramrod straight cock. She wanted to drive him as wild as he had driven her. Return pleasure to him ten-fold.

  He groaned softly, but then flashed her a small, lopsided grin. “A little. But it was all for you.”

  She didn’t doubt that for a moment. She softened her expression as she traced the line of his sculptured upper lip with one finger, then caught his gaze. “I know. And as usual you have taken care of me first.”

  How could she begrudge him feeling pleased about the fact that he had satisfied her so well? More than well in fact. Her climax had been sublime. She purposely hooked her legs around his hips and pushed herself against him again, her wet aching cleft opening against his rigid length.