by Lisa Torquay
“Fine!” He stood restlessly and paced the study. Twice refused by the most infuriating woman on the planet! Did he have no pride? Little where she was concerned, it appeared.
“Don’t be angry.” She sounded like she attempted conciliation. “I am not suitable for you, you know that.” She inhaled deeply. “You need to find an unmarried young lady of high breed for your lineage.”
“To the devil with suitable!” He raked a hand through his sleek black hair and she followed his fingers enviously. “I abhor those starry-eyed debutants, whose mamas advise to endure a husband’s attention like motionless mummies.”
He saw all her skin flushing, not in shame, certainly.
“I want you!” He continued. “Your passion, your fire, your…participation!” He didn’t care if she noticed his discomposure, he’d gone farther than that.
“I won’t be your wife and tarnish your family line.” She answered coolly, despite the rise and fall of her bosom. “I come from the petit-noblesse and fortunately no children came from my marriage to your uncle.”
Oh, but she gave herself to him, Philip, and she was his, either she liked it or not. And he’d bring her back to his bed. Soon. He was approaching ebullition point. The need of her consumed him to breaking point. He knew she felt it too, he saw it written all over her delectable person. Or he’d plead, beg, beseech! Even on his knees, he’d swallow his darn pride and yield. He thought her worth it; don’t ask him why, he just did.
“Am I dismissed, Your Grace?” Oh, he hated when she put so much distance between them, that she called him by his title!
“You are, Your Grace.” His voice almost an insult.
Pretending she never noticed, she smiled blandly and curtsied before leaving. The impossible woman!
Why, oh why did he have to be so brazenly attractive? Pure cowardice. How was she to resist him? He looked so hellishly gorgeous today, tall, powerful, potent! The light coming from the window on his back tinted his black hair with bluish streaks and made his features seem even more handsome. She never wanted to stop gazing at him. She could do it her entire life! Not only this, his pride, his strength of will, his self-assurance. All of him appealed to her inexorably, she mused as she went for a walk in the park with her friends. She had to take him out of her head, while she still could.
The next morning, the sun bathed gently the garden and Selene, sat there with a book among the bushes, where no one would see her. Specially him.
“Incredible how creative you can be to find hiding places.” His rich velvet voice started her.
She lifted her head from the book. He stood a couple of yards away, his hands casually in his pockets.
“I’m not hiding.” She lied. “I decided to enjoy the sun.” So tall she had to almost break her neck to look at him.
His eyes told her he did not entirely believe her. “Hm, I see.”
The clove of his stare shone almost translucent in the sun, it mesmerized her.
“What are you reading?” The question surprised her. Neither her father, nor her half-brother cared much to her taste for books.
“Jane Porter.” She lifted the cover to him, he neared her in the pretext of reading it.
“Oh, a taste for historical novels, I gather.”
“Among other things, you could say.” Now he came too close for comfort.
“Yes, I’ve seen you tastes are…varied.” She blushed. She had no prejudices when it came to reading. A lady obtained scarce information from real life. She had to seek it in libraries.
“Your library has many more options than my father’s, I admit.” She avoided his stare and his provocation.
“I take pride in that collection, I must say.” He paced closer. “As a boy, I used to be enchanted by some illustrated volumes there.”
She tried to imagine the boy he’d been and failed. The man he became was so remarkable and magnetic, hard to think of him otherwise. “Indeed.” She blurted, dazed by the heat of his body.
“You don’t need fiction, though.” His attention perused her in detail, making her feel awkward.
“How so?” She had to find a way of evading him or she’d do something foolish, like touching him.
“You can have reality.” His eyes met hers. “All of it.”
They weren’t talking about books anymore and the warmth spread in her at the thought of his “all of it”.
She stood up abruptly. “I very much prefer the peace I find in books, Your Grace!” She turned to leave.
And couldn’t. His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. Her back met his hard warm upper body . Blood raced in her veins, together with her hart, as an arrow of fire zinged through her entire body. He lowered his head, his mouth touching the restless pulse on her neck, grazing along it. High trees surrounded them, isolating both in green and silence.
“How dare you handle me like this?” She tried to pull free before she gave in to him. But he pulled her closer; now their whole bodies touched and she registered the bulge of his desire on the small of her back.
“Tell me you don’t like it!” He defied her. Then his mouth opened and his teeth nibbled the sensitive skin on her neck.
The sensation, so acute, her head fell on his chest and she sighed her delight. His mouth placed a hungry wet kiss on the base. Her lashes weighed down, her lips parted, famished for his kisses.
“Come back to my bed.” He muttered in her ear.
One hand travelled up from her waist and cupped her eager breast, playing with her hardened nipple over the fabric of her dress. She arched for more but his hand abandoned her breast and caressed her throat, coming to touch her mouth. Her mind fogged, sensations dominating her, she took his forefinger in her mouth and suckled on it as if her life depended on that.
“My fiery witch!” He moaned and his teeth went to worry her ear, deepening her need for him.
A bird suddenly flew, beating its wings and shaking the branch where it had been. The sound brought Selene back to her senses. Taking him by surprise, she escaped his iron arm and ran to the house in distress. In her room, she leaned on the door, panting. She needed to leave this house and rent something for herself where she wouldn’t meet him. Difficult considering the ton members rubbed elbows all the time.
Hell, the woman could be slippery if she so set her mind, Philip thought as he strode to the study vexed. She revealed herself to be a die hard. He admired her for that, which didn’t mean he felt happy to be rejected. Again. Even though it was plainly obvious she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Frustration climbing sky high, he decided to go to his club, since there would be no Parliament session that day.
Chapter 12
A couple of days later, mid-afternoon, Philip had gone to Parliament and she and her lady’s maid spent the afternoon reorganising her belongings. Jenkins knocked.
Allowed to open the door, he announced. “Mr Eastwell, Your Grace.”
What did her brother want here? She wondered. If it had been her father, Jenkins would have announced Lord Drawbridge.
“I’ll receive him in the blue room, Jenkins.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” He bowed and left.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, thinking her dark green dress and her hair rolled in a simple bun looked proper. She gave a few instructions to her lady’s maid and went down.
“Charles,” She greeted him as she entered the drawing room.
“Selene.” He come near her. “How are you?” He kissed her on the cheek, like in the old days.
Her brother didn’t usually display this affable treatment of late. Something was afoot. “Fine, and you?”
He glanced briefly at her and turned his back, not answering her polite inquiry. His eyes wandered the room as he turned to her again. “You seem to be doing very well, indeed.” He remarked, taking in the luxurious decoration.
“Charles, why don’t you tell me the reason of your visit?” He wanted something, she could tell. Better he spoke it out
once and for all.
Philip climbed down his liveried carriage and took the entrance steps two at a time. Discussions in Parliament had been strenuous and he wished to soak in a bath. As soon as he entered, he heard voices in the drawing room. One voice male, he became immediately alert. If the pauper earl had the face to visit… The door ajar, not Cunningham, her brother.
“Things have become…disordered.” He heard Charles saying.
“How disordered?” Selene had a hard tone to her.
“I owe money.” A confession.
“Gambling money, you mean.”
“Yes, yes!” Impatience.
Selene didn’t want to hear any of that. Hadn’t she sacrificed enough to save her half-brother, and her family, from ruin? Would this never stop?
“You got enough to clear you former debts, didn’t you?”
“You’re right, but that was almost two years ago!” The muscle on his jaw thumped nervously
“So, you had the chance to clear your gambling debts and start anew.” She crossed her arms. “Why do you need more now? Naturally, she knew the answer. She wanted him to own it up though.
He hesitated as if sensing her stronger, more mature. “I got new gambling debts.”
The addicted villain! Philip thought. No wonder Selene didn’t care for her brother’s company. He remained hidden, wanting to discover more.
“The sacrifice I made was worth nothing then.” He imagined her chin up, angry. “Father forced me to marry a man trice my age. It crushed my hopes, my dreams, my expectations and here you are, back at it again!”
So this had been the reason Selene married his uncle! She didn’t want it! Drawbridge forced her! My, my, what a family! He felt the impulse to go to her father and beat him to an inch of his life! What kind of father did this to a daughter?
Selene felt disappointment and a hollow sense of purposelessness mingled in her. Either men, father or brother, showed her not an ounce of gratitude for her to have saved their skin, but she was good enough to become their source of income! Oh, this stopped here!
If possible, her spine became stiffer, her chin higher and her stare harder. “I believe you had a fair chance to clear your debts and change your life. It seems you threw it away.” He looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. “Grow up and deal with it yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, almost violent. “They’re thugs! I’m in danger!”
Self-centred, for a variation, she thought. “Where’s father?” Charles didn’t think about the man that kept taking him out of trouble.
“Don’t know. He’s hidden away for days…in his cups, you know.”
“Mama died in agony because of the problems you caused, father’s on the way to that. Damage enough, I’d say.”
He advanced on her, fury on his countenance. “If I’m cleared, I won’t go back to it. I promise.”
She kept her ground “You promised the same repeatedly before and didn’t keep your word!” Her hands flew to her waist. He stood close to her, his hands fisted.
“You have so much! You’ve become selfish!”
“No. You’re selfish because you don’t think about those around you.” She devolved. “If I pay your endless gambling debts, I’ll be helping the gambling, not you.”
He blinked twice, as if her words downed on him. “They might kill me!”
“You had several chances, there’s nothing I can do to really help your problem.”
“I’ll introduce you to a couple of ‘friends’. They’ll convince you.” His eyes shone bad intentions.
She wouldn’t show fear, not to him. Not to anybody. “You can do whatever you want. Dead, I’m of no use to you. Threats won’t solve your problems.”
“Is this your final decision?”
“Yes. You’ve damaged enough of my life.” She hardened not to show her growing fear. “Now if you please.” She pointed to the door.
“You b…” He raised his arm.
“You heard the lady, Eastwell!” Philip entered looking ready for a brawl. Brave Selene! His Selene! She stood there, the dignity of a queen.
Charles looked at him with disdain and chuckled unpleasantly. “You know what they say about you two, don’t you, Crompton.”
“I don’t know and I don’t care!”
Charles didn’t stop though. “They say you’re the smartest devil in town because you have your own live-in widow!” And laughed ugly.
Widows were famous for providing…solace to young “eager” bachelors at that time.
Philip heard Selene gasp affronted. He felt a contemptuous red-hot ferocity surface in him. He moved to thrash the idiot blind.
“His is not worth it, Your Grace.” Came Selene’s serene voice.
His rage immediately subsided. “You’re right, Your Grace.” He answered. He rang for the footmen, who came at once and evicted the despicable man. Charles left looking disgruntled.
“Are you alright?” Philip asked Selene. He inhaled deep to calm down; their eyes met. And held.
It felt like loads of things transmitted in this exchange. He merged in her vivid green pools and hers in his for long moments. He wanted to stride there, take her in his arms and offer her his support. She looked shaky, a sadness about her. He understood now. Her sacrifice, her disappointments, her smashed expectations as a debutante. A sense of pride bubbled in him for her courage and endurance, never once going off her path, despite it all. A strong, ethical woman he had there in front of him! He wanted to keep her here, with him. For as long as she willed to stay.
“I’ll survive.” She answered stoically.
Looking at him, so worried and protective, she wanted him to enfold her in his tall, broad body and let her stay there forever. Then he could carry her to his bed and make her forget everything, even her name. Especially her name. They’d immerse in a world solely theirs, made for the senses and delights.
Breaking eye contact, she diverted her stare shyly. “Thank you.” She said simply.
He smiled faintly. “My pleasure.” The last word pronounced so huskily, it changed meaning.
He had such a beautiful smile. Yet, he smiled so little. She wondered why. Maybe the early loss of his parents had made him a stern boy, too aware of the hard realities of life. She wished he smiled more.
“Excuse me.” She managed to murmur before turning and leaving.
Philip soaked his tall, strong body in his bath and reflected. If what Charles said was true, the ton must be abuzz with talk. Damn it to hell! He didn’t want Selene involved in sordid talk. She didn’t deserve it! He’d inquire around and see what he got.
If people talked, he had to admit some truth to it. They had been… Well, they had been…together. But people would talk as if he took advantage of Selene. He didn’t. They’d felt this pull from the start, even before his uncle introduced her as his wife. He didn’t see it as a dirty thing. Far, very far from that. He saw it as…surprising? Elating? Different? Perhaps a little of the three and more. What he knew for real: this passion took him by storm and still shook the hell out of him! He felt almost out of his depth. This…madness consumed all of him and kept him coming for more, for everything.
The memories of her wouldn’t give him peace. Even now, in the tub he was…in a state! A state of wanting, craving her so terribly much it scared him to death. He needed to get a grip, or he’d go insane. He didn’t mind insanity, as long as she remained with him. Without her, the world went out of its axes. He preferred not to search the cause of this thought.
He finished his bath and rang for his valet help him prepare for dinner.
As he entered the dining room, he stopped short. Selene sat there, at the right side of his place. A sense of victory came over him. No more avoiding, perhaps. Hopefully so.
“Good evening, Your Grace.” He greeted her, bowing over her hand.
“Good evening for you too, Your Grace.” She tilted her head in greeting.
“You look beautiful.” He complimented her.
She wore a dark-blue half-mourning dress with a prudish lace neckline that only made him want to tear it off. He longed to see her in bright colours that became her so nicely. He’d have to wait a little for this, though. It was not disrespect towards his uncle’s passing. So young a lady deserved to enjoy the brightness of life.
Smiling she said. “Thank you. You do not look bad yourself.” She devolved.
Food served, footmen dismissed, as he used to do at dinner, he tried to keep the conversation light. He wanted her to forget the afternoon’s…incident. He hoped her half-brother didn’t importune her ever again.
He couldn’t stop staring at her either. He absorbed every single detail of her beautiful face. Her vivid green eyes, her upturned little nose, her delicate cheeks, her feminine chin, most important, her lush delightful lips. He missed kissing her. He missed her melting under him.
