To her discomfort, as Susanna walked down the corridor to the dining room she met with her father, who was hastening upstairs to see his wife and daughter. Her stomach rumbled, so she was left with no choice but to enter the room and dine alone with Elijah.
He sat at the head of the table wearing a grey suit with snowy white linen, cravat tied impeccably tight at his throat, holding a delicate cup and drinking. He glanced up when he saw her but offered no smile.
‘Miss Seymour.’ He put his cup down and rose to his feet. ‘Do sit down.’ He pulled the chair out for her before the hovering servant could do so and she took her seat, a wash of masculine scent overtaking her from his body as he stood close.
Susanna folded her hands on her lap tightly, asking for some eggs and toast when the servant enquired. Elijah regained his seat, leant over, and poured some orange juice. She thanked him, sat with her head bowed as she was served. Elijah looked up, dismissed the servant with a gesture, and the two of them were left alone in the room.
Susanna took a sip of juice. She did not dare lift her eyes.
‘Susanna,’ Elijah said in an undertone. ‘Your mouth is so hot and wicked.’
Her head jerked up. She narrowed her eyes at him, blushing furiously.
He arched a sardonic brow. ‘What, I’m not allowed to mention what you did to me last night?’
She gave a fierce shake of her head. ‘It was under the influence of wine and you know why I did it. It’s not something to be dissected.’
He fixed those crystal blue eyes on her. ‘To gain a husband for your sister,’ he said.
‘Correct,’ she said tartly.
‘And not because the thought of my cock in your mouth excited you beyond reason?’
Susanna shoved her chair back with indignation.
‘Sit down.’ His tone was like a whip. Susanna sank fearfully back to her seat, not taking her gaze from him. ‘If I want to discuss it, we’ll discuss it. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t usually have women taking such liberties with me and then preferring it was swept under the carpet.’
She curled her lip. ‘Have I bruised your delicate ego, Mr Storm? Perhaps you can’t handle a woman taking control.’
She saw the fury on his face and let her chair fly back, running across the room as fast as her gown would allow her. He reached the door before her, slamming it shut, grabbing her arm and pulling her around.
‘It’s true I prefer the control, but that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy being mastered by you,’ he said, fingers gripping her tight and eyes burning into hers. ‘But let’s not pretend that was an end to it. It was just the beginning.’
Susanna shook her head, aghast. ‘No.’
‘Yes.’ His arm curled about her waist. He pulled her against his muscular body and she felt the hard beating of his heart. She braced her hands on his chest, turning her face away as he tried to kiss her.
Stumbling from his grip, he merely pressed her back against the door, thrusting a thigh between hers as his lips claimed hers savagely. Susanna gasped. She had had kisses before, some none too chaste, but no one had ever kissed her with such raw passion before.
She tried to fight him but it was pointless. Her body responded to him unbidden. She curved a hand around his neck and he pressed closer, deepening the kiss, tongue slipping between her lips. Susanna let out a low moan. She felt his erection against her hip and her whole body shuddered with emotion. When he let her go, she sagged weakly against the door, shattered, fingers touching her lips unconsciously.
Elijah’s desperate expression waned, as though he had mastered the beast within him. He reached out, trailed fingertips over the curve of her cheek tenderly, and she instantly jerked away. Fumbling behind her, she yanked open the door and fled.
Susanna slumped back in the carriage as they set off down the driveway away from the house with Elijah standing at the door watching them go. Lucy was wrapped in her cloak like an invalid, foot elevated on the seat next to Susanna. She chattered endlessly about what a gentleman Mr Storm was while Susanna remained silent.
This was not how it should have gone. She should have been going home with Lucy’s hand firmly secured, not with her lips burning and her body still craving Elijah’s touch.
Chapter Six
A gloom fell over the house like mourning when it was reported that Elijah had gone back to London for the foreseeable future. Lucy kept to her chamber with no attempt made to rehabilitate her ankle with exercise, and Mrs Seymour took to her bed as though someone had died. Susanna guessed it was the smashing of her dreams her mother objected to. She herself steamed with impotent fury. She had compromised herself with that man, had received his promise that he would seek her sister’s hand and, instead, he had fled like the philanderer he was.
Summer had turned to early autumn, bright crisp days and fallen leaves, when the thunder of hooves echoed up the drive and a man presented his calling card. Susanna lifted her head from her book as Mrs Seymour flew into the drawing room, hands flapping, generous bosom heaving.
‘Mr Storm is come back!’
She was followed by Lucy, who seemed to have made a miraculous recovery. Both women had clearly forgotten their stupor, and were happy for the rake to come back into their lives and make his insincere apologies. Susanna curled her lip. She stood.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I have a headache.’
But it was too late. Richard arrived at the door, announcing loudly, ‘Mr Elijah Storm.’
Elijah strode in. Elizabeth and Lucy almost swooned simultaneously. He was dressed all in black, not a speck of colour about him anywhere, his hair still indecently short. His pale eyes flickered over Susanna, unreadable.
He bowed low at the three women. ‘My deep regret at my sudden departure,’ he said, mainly addressing Elizabeth. ‘My mother was taken ill.’
Susanna regarded him suspiciously. Was it the truth? She doubted anything this man said.
Elizabeth made a sympathetic clucking sound like a constipated chicken. ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’
‘She was gravely sick,’ Elijah said, ‘but is now on the road to recovery. I hope to spend several weeks at my estate but would have to leave again should she take a turn for the worse.’
‘Of course,’ Elizabeth said.
Lucy didn’t speak. She gazed at Elijah in rapture.
There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Elijah cleared his throat. ‘Actually, it is Mr Seymour I have come to see.’
Elizabeth turned purple. Her eyes bulged from her head and she clasped her hands at her bosom, barely able to stay upright with excitement. ‘Of course. Richard!’ She yelled to the butler, who hovered in the hall. ‘Please show Mr Storm to my husband’s study.’
The butler bowed. Elijah inclined his head politely, threw Susanna a quick glance, and turned on his heel, riding boots tapping on the parquet floor.
Elizabeth fell into a chair in a near faint, fanning herself theatrically with her hand. ‘Oh Lucy! This is it!’
Susanna regarded her sourly. There could be no doubt that Elijah had come to ask for Lucy’s hand in marriage. But instead of satisfaction that he had finally kept his end of the bargain, she only felt deep, wrenching agony. She sat down, her novel clutched hard to her chest, where the worst of the pain was located. That a man like him could make her feel like this, for the first time in her life … It seemed incomprehensible. To watch him lost to her sister, a man who had stirred her so passionately. How would she ever recover from this? She looked at Lucy, pale and tense with excitement, pacing the drawing room as though waiting to hear a sentence pronounced and she felt tender. The better woman had won. She should wish Lucy well. While some of Elijah’s behaviour and temperament was suspect, her marriage would never be short of passion.
The three of them waited in tense silence. Elizabeth called for water and smelling salts. Lucy hovered by the window, plucking at the curtains with anxious fingers. And Susanna sat perfectly still and wished with all her heart
that she had never met Elijah Storm.
It seemed an eternity before a door opened distantly. Two sets of footsteps sounded down the hall. Edward and Elijah appeared in the doorway; Edward beaming, Elijah coolly content. Both of them looked towards Susanna and she flushed at the attention, confused.
Elizabeth gathered her wits and lurched to her feet. ‘Mr Seymour?’ she addressed her husband. ‘You have something to share with us?’
Edward rubbed his hands together. ‘Indeed I do. Mr Storm has asked for our daughter’s hand in marriage.’
Elizabeth threw her hands up. ‘Oh God be praised! I hope you said yes, Edward!’
‘Of course, Elizabeth,’ Edward said, his tone gently reproving. ‘That is if Susanna herself consents, because I would no more give her away against her will than I would …’
Elizabeth cut him off. ‘You mean Lucy?’
Every woman in the room was stiff and silent. Susanna stared dumbly at her father.
‘No, my dear, I mean Susanna,’ he pronounced.
Susanna’s legs would have buckled had she not been sitting down. She felt the blood drain from her face and she looked from Edward to Elijah in increasing panic. This couldn’t be true. Why would he do this? What about Lucy and his promise? Her mother would never forgive her for this.
Elizabeth stifled a little cry behind her handkerchief and burst into noisy tears.
‘My dear,’ Edward said, looking at Mr Storm with some embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Lucy ran from the room in hysterics.
‘I don’t understand,’ Elizabeth sobbed. ‘Mr Storm, I presented Lucy to you in the most transparent of gestures. She is our hope of a good match. Susanna, she …’ She didn’t dare look at her daughter. ‘She’s a maid now, beyond hope of a husband. You have had your head turned, I understand, but you must realise Lucy is the right woman for you and …’
Elijah interrupted firmly and gently. ‘Mrs Seymour, I’m sorry to disappoint you. I have no particular feeling for Lucy and I have always promised I would never marry a woman for money, for the match or any such silly thing evident these days. I ardently love and admire Susanna and I wish your blessing for her hand.’
Susanna stared up at him with her senses swimming. Her ears must be playing tricks. He had not just declared his love, had he? There must be some mistake. This philanderer had teased and tormented her and shown himself to be a man of the loosest morals. Why exactly did he wish her hand, and what made him think she would actually consent to be his wife? For a start, as if she could disregard her sister so cruelly.
Elizabeth swayed in place, shaking her head, still at a loss to comprehend.
Susanna rose quickly from her seat. ‘Thank you for your kind invitation, Mr Storm,’ she said with her voice as firm as she could make it. ‘I regret I am unable to accept.’ She inclined her head and marched past him.
Behind her, she heard Elizabeth give a wail.
Angry voices came from the study as Susanna hovered outside later that day. She had lain on her bed for hours, weeping at the cruel twist of fate that would have Elijah Storm declaring his love for her. From down the hall, she had heard Lucy’s racking sobs and was unable to comfort her. Her sister would now see her as the enemy, someone who had stolen the man of her dreams away.
‘In God’s name, woman, what does it matter which daughter he chooses as long as we have found a husband for one of them?’ Edward said in exasperation.
‘Edward, Lucy was meant for him. Mr Storm in his contrary fashion, as only he can, has made a mockery of us all, of me, of poor Lucy. Clearly he plays with poor Susanna to amuse himself at our expense.’
Susanna leant against the wall with tears in her eyes and a hand over her mouth.
‘That was not the way Mr Storm put his case to me,’ her father said. ‘He waxed lyrical in his admiration for Susanna. I was left in no doubt as to his feelings.’
Susanna shook her head. She refused to believe that Elijah’s feelings extended beyond needs of the flesh. He toyed with her. He would marry her and then he would disappear for weeks on end to card games and houses of ill repute. Oh, she knew his type, no matter her sheltered upbringing. He absolutely could not be allowed to get away with this. She clenched her fists. She would show him. God, she would show him.
* * *
The rain was lashing down in sheets as she descended from the carriage on the driveway of Rainton Grange and was shown inside by the curious butler. Her behaviour was scandalous, of course, for a single woman to turn up uninvited at the home of such a notorious bachelor as Mr Storm. Well, she didn’t much care what the gossips would say. She doubted Elijah himself was loose-lipped even if he was loose in every other area.
‘Miss Seymour to see Mr Storm,’ she said as the butler helped her off with her damp cloak and bonnet and took her gloves. Footsteps sounded on the marble floor and the man of the house appeared.
‘Thank you, Reuben,’ he said. ‘That will be all.’
The butler bowed and withdrew, taking Susanna’s outdoor clothes with him.
Elijah looked highly amused, those crystal blue eyes dancing with mirth. ‘Why, Miss Seymour, you’re all wet. Perhaps I can interest you in getting out of those clothes before you catch a chill?’
Susanna stalked forward. She beat her fists in rage against his chest. ‘You beast! Why must you play with me and my family this way? What has poor Lucy done to you that you would disrespect her so?’
Elijah’s eyes flashed. He gripped her wrists, hard enough to hurt. ‘You think I play with you? You think my feelings for you show disrespect to your sister?’
‘Yes!’ she cried.
He shook her breathless before releasing her abruptly. ‘You fool,’ he spat. ‘You have no idea.’
She followed his lithe body with an anxious gaze as he paced away, seemingly striving to recover himself. He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled, and breathed heavily.
‘You don’t know how you compromise yourself by coming here,’ he said finally, with a cunning glint in his eye. ‘The things I could do to you.’
Heat rose to Susanna’s cheeks. Her body flooded with warmth and sensation, her nipples tightening, her groin pulsing. His forbidden words raised all kinds of taboo images no lady had any right to be thinking, centred on his mouth, his hands, and that thick, glorious cock just made for pleasure. She ached between her legs for him.
She bit her lip, attempting to stare him down with an angry mask in place, but she was fighting a losing battle. She turned to flee, but it was too late. He caught her around the waist, pulled her against the hard length of his body. She whimpered at the feel of his erection against the small of her back. His breath drifted over her ear. ‘Let me,’ he whispered. ‘Let me.’
He cupped her breasts and she arched shamelessly into his touch despite the layers of clothing separating them. His mouth trailed down her neck, planting heated kisses, raising an inferno of desire.
Quite suddenly, he gripped her hand, swung her around to pull her after him. She gasped as he forced her down at the foot of the stairs and fell to his knees. Lifting her skirts, he pushed her thighs apart.
In both mounting lust and blind panic, she tried to fight him. He buried his head beneath her skirts, strong hands keeping her legs prised open, mouth at the top of one stocking, teasing her burning skin.
She gripped his hair with a cry of outrage as he tore her linen underwear apart in his strong hands, and then his mouth was on her swollen, desperate flesh.
She bucked in Elijah’s grip as his tongue flickered over her clitoris, aching and sensitive. He slid his hands under her backside, lifted her to his face, holding her firm, and swiped down her slit, burying between her folds.
Susanna shook and moaned. Elijah teased her up and down one more time before he concentrated that wicked tongue on her hard bud, lapping, lashing and tormenting ferociously, intent, it seemed, on driving her to the fastest, wildest orgasm imaginable.
She lurched and tremble
d in his grip, unspeakably noisy as he brought her to the edge. He pushed two fingers into her slick warmth and she cried out, knowing she was about to experience a climax unlike anything her own hand could deliver. Senses scattered, she arched desperately against his mouth, wailing as the ecstasy took her, hands clutching his head, holding him in place in case he slid away before she could milk the last waves. But Elijah stayed at his task, tongue frantic as she convulsed, crying out, legs juddering for long seconds that seemed to go on and on and on.
Finally she could take no more of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. She pushed his face away, head dropping back, hands supporting herself on the stairs as she realised the discomfort in her back.
She was sweaty, dishevelled, soaking wet, her hair loose around her face, legs splayed wantonly.
Elijah remained kneeling between her thighs. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and smiled, not lewdly, not smugly, but tenderly at her, and her already hammering heart knocked some more.
‘Susanna,’ he said, ‘never have I more enjoyed giving a woman such pleasure in my life.’
Blood flooded her already flushed face. His countenance was ardent and sincere. She couldn’t bear him like this, preferring the lecherous Lothario. She slid her torn underwear free and yanked her skirts down. He rose to his feet, the bulge in his breeches massive, and held out his hand, but she shrugged it aside. She tried not to look as he not so discreetly adjusted himself beneath his tight constriction. He stepped aside to allow her passage. His saliva filmed her thighs as she headed for the door with her legs unsteady.
Balling up her drawers, she tossed them back at him. ‘Here. A present for you.’ She slammed the door behind her and ran coatless through the downpour.
The startled coachman hurried down quickly to help her inside from the thundering rain, and she collapsed against the seat as they raced down the driveway. Susanna trembled violently, eyes closed, reliving every devastating moment of what Elijah had just done to her.
Seducing Mr Storm Page 4
