She was ruined. Destroyed . . . unless she could think of something to say that would erase this terrible evening from the minds of some of the ton’s leading personages. She pushed away from the door and started pacing in an anxious circle—
“Thea,” Neal’s voice said from the other side of the door. “Let me in.”
She stared at the door as if she could burn a hole through it and set him on fire.
“Thea? Talk to me.”
She didn’t want to talk. He’d already said enough.
“Very well, then,” he said, “let me tell you what I’m going to do. Tomorrow, I will send a man to procure a special license from the bishop. That shouldn’t take long. We could probably marry the day after. Of course, if you wish to marry in London so that your sons could attend—”
Thea was across to the door in a blink. She threw it open. Neal stood there, handsome, relaxed, completely in control of his emotions.
She wasn’t.
“What do you believe you are doing?” she demanded.
“Marrying you,” he replied.
Thea slammed the door in his face.
She turned away, raising a hand to her forehead as if her head hurt. But it wasn’t her head that worried her, it was her whole life.
The door opened. “That wasn’t courteous,” he chastised as he walked in.
“Leave me,” she ground out.
His response was to shut the door, with him inside the room. “Thea, no one will believe we want to marry if you continue these dramatics.”
His calmness threw her into hysterics. “Do you not know what you’ve done? You’ve ruined me.”
Neal shook his head. “I don’t agree. I think I saved you.”
“And how is that?” she demanded wildly.
“No one will speak against you with me to protect you,” he said, as if he was being quite noble.
“How little you know of women,” Thea answered. “Protect me by marrying me? I’ll be surprised if any door will be open to me. This story will fly through London. They may behave one way to your face, but they will let me know what they think behind your back. I’m destroyed. And what of my sons? What will happen to them?” She collapsed onto the tufted bench in front of her dressing table.
He knelt in front of her. “I don’t care what those women think. They don’t matter—”
“How naive you are!”
“Fine. Women control the world,” he conceded without conviction. “They are all going to eat us alive—”
“They will. Lady Carpsley—”
“Is a bully. All of London knows she leads her husband around by his boll—” He paused, catching himself before he said bollocks, and finished, “Nose. She leads him around by his nose. In fact most of those women handle their husbands that way. You don’t think I know Lady Montvale can be a terror?” Neal shrugged. “I’ve managed this far in my life without her approval.”
“That’s because she has always approved of you, my lord. And she probably will continue the pretense of doing so, although one day you may need to speak to the Prince Regent about a matter of some urgency and find your request denied—”
“No, that won’t happen. He owes me money,” Neal countered, but then he frowned. “Then again, because he owes me money, he has already been avoiding me—”
“You are not listening to what I’m saying.” Thea raised her hands in frustration and let them go before adding, “And you sound as if you think this is a lark.”
“It is, Thea. And perhaps you are the one not listening to me. Marriage between us makes good sense. We’ve known each other a long time. You won’t fall in love with me, and I won’t fall in love with you.”
“How can you say that? Didn’t you toss aside our friendship because of fear we would grow too close?” And they would. She could sense it. And then what would he do?
“We are older and wiser now,” he replied dismissively. “Together we can beat the curse—”
Thea interrupted him with a cry of irritation. “The curse, the curse, the curse.” She swooped off the chair and away from him, taking a good two angry steps before turning. “That’s all you think about.”
His brows came together in an angry V. “I don’t have a choice. I must consider it.”
She wanted to groan but stifled the sound. Did he know how mad he sounded? Taking a second to collect herself, she said, “Neal, have you ever wondered why I was so offended that day in Sir James’s office? Why I stormed out of the place?”
“You were upset with me,” he said, giving a small shrug as if it didn’t matter.
“Are all men thickheaded?” Thea demanded of the room-at-large.
“Are all women so temperamental?” Neal shot back. He came to his feet. “No, Thea, I don’t know why you left except that you don’t believe in the curse and for some reason it made you angry that I do. All right. So be it. We have a difference. But there are many things we agree upon. In fact, we kissed rather well.”
She brought her hands up as if to ward him off. “Oh, no, you didn’t just say that. I thought your purpose was to marry a woman who didn’t kiss well.”
“When did I make that claim?”
“You want to marry someone you can’t like,” Thea pointed out.
“Yes, but I don’t want to dislike kissing her.”
Thea pounced. “Oh, so because you want to marry me, that means you don’t like me.”
“No, Thea, don’t even jump to that conclusion.”
“What conclusion am I jumping to, my lord? I’m merely restating what you said.”
“But that’s not what I said.”
“Yes, it is. You said—”
Now it was Neal’s turn to roar with disapproval. “Stop twisting my words.”
It felt good to make him angry. It meant he was paying attention now.
“And you need to think about what you are saying,” Thea countered. “As to that day in the office, yes, I found the talk of curse unbelievable and a bit ridiculous. But the reason I really left, Neal, is because I didn’t want to help you on this quest for a wife, not with the demand you don’t like her. I felt it was wrong, and I still do. Neal, I believe in love.”
There, she’d said it, and she was a bit unnerved by her statement. But once foolish, twice damned. She couldn’t stop herself from plunging on.
“I think it is important,” she said, pacing the distance between the bed and the doorway as she reasoned out her words. “I know I shouldn’t. If anyone should not believe in love, it is me.” She had to give a small, brittle laugh at herself for having been such a fool. “I know how hard it is to find love. You think you have it, you believe you have found someone you can trust, who will stand beside you and protect you and make you feel as if you finally have a place in this world where you belong—and then you find out you are wrong. People aren’t to be trusted, and no one person can give anyone everything she thinks she needs. So I didn’t believe in love, but then here you are in Sir James’s office saying you are deliberately seeking someone you can’t and won’t and refuse to love, and that’s when something so deep inside me that I didn’t know it was there rose up and said, You are wrong . . . because love is important, Neal. When I think of my sons, I know it is all that ever matters.”
“You loved Martin?”
His question took a moment to penetrate her mind. She was thinking about this all-encompassing emotion called love . . . and he was asking about her late husband?
What’s more, he was waiting for an answer.
Thea shook her head. “Of course I did—” That wasn’t completely right either. “I thought I did,” she amended. “Yes, I did at one time.”
“What happened?”
“What do you mean, ‘what happened?’ ” she challenged.
Neal shifted his weight. He wasn’t as overzealous as he had been a few moments ago. “You left your family and everything you knew for him. So, what happened? I gathered you were not completely happy in your m
arriage. What changed your affections?”
She crossed her arms, wanting to refuse an answer, then deciding it made no difference if she was candid with Neal. After all, there had been a time when he’d known all of her confidences.
“Boyd was difficult,” she said. The words sounded so simple, but there was a wealth of the unspoken in each of them. She slid her gaze toward the cold hearth, remembering, and feeling disloyal. “I loved him enough to defy everyone and elope. But I don’t think I knew him. No, wait,” she said correcting herself, “I don’t think I trusted him.”
“You can trust me.”
She had to laugh at his conviction. “My lord, I will never trust another man. Now, if you please, leave my room.” She started toward the door to open it. “I am tired. Worn thin. We can discuss this night on the morrow—”
He caught her arm, swung her around and kissed her. His embrace was commanding, and she had no choice but to kiss him back.
One minute she was rational and tired, and in the next, she was suddenly vital and alive. It was that simple and the decision that quick.
Their lips did fit together well. Her body warmed to his, became warm in the places where he was hard—
He was hard.
Thea could feel the length and heat of him exactly where it should be against her, and she was undone.
There had been a time when Thea had wanted Boyd’s attentions, and a time when she’d avoided all contact with him. She understood her body’s signals. Hers was not a prudish nature, although she had long ago made the decision to place her needs and wants far below those of her children.
However here and now, desire burst into life with a vehemence that was all encompassing.
What was wrong with letting herself enjoy this kiss? She’d been holding herself so tight, trying to be so strong. What harm could one kiss do?
And it felt good to at last let her body enjoy being in his arms. His body heat enfolded her. His strength held her.
The kiss deepened.
He sat on the bench, pulling her down onto his lap. Thea straddled his legs.
Were her nightclothes up around her bare thighs? She didn’t care.
Did his hand caress her breast? Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.
She was perfectly happy. Blissfully happy. Hungrily happy. And when he broke the kiss to brush aside her hair to nibble his way to her ear, Thea thought she was going to shoot straight from his arms into heaven . . .
Neal was intoxicated. Thea was seductive, willing, aggressive.
She cupped his head with her hands, bent over him and kissed him with an abandon he had not known existed.
Dear God, he wanted her.
In truth, he’d wanted her all those years ago when they’d met by the stream. He’d fantasized about her, yearned to see her and cherished each moment they’d been together. But this, having her respond to his kisses, holding her in his arms, was better than any fantasy.
The pull, the draw, the need was a hundred times stronger than it had ever been with any other woman. Neal had had dalliances over the years, but the women had meant nothing to him and he’d lost interest. Yes, he was a man with a strong drive, yet while his brother had played with every female who’d placed herself in his path, Neal had been discreet, almost celibate.
But now all caution flew to the wind.
He tasted her ear, her cheek, her nose, her eyes. Her breasts were firm and hard in his palm. He reveled in the silky skin of her thigh, his hand following the curve of her hip, the indentation of her waist.
She was moist and hot and he could not have stopped unbuttoning his breeches even if his brother had come charging into the room with the whole host of the Horse Guard behind him. He had to be inside Thea. He must be inside her.
She moved against his hand, as impatient as he was. He tired of feeling her breast. He found the tight hard nipple with his mouth, licking, stroking her right through the fabric of her gown.
Her breath caught in her throat as she whimpered out of pleasure, and he wanted her all the more.
And then he was free of his fumbling with buttons and material. He was hard, ready, and charged by her moist heat.
With an almost animal need, Neal lifted her hips and brought her down on top of him. Her tightness surrounded him. Her heat almost was his undoing.
She stiffened, the action allowing him to go deeper.
“Neal,” she said, her voice wavering.
He kissed her ear, found her lips. “It’s all right,” he murmured almost desperately. She couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t. “It’s so right. So good.”
She nodded even as she opened to him.
This was Thea as he’d always dreamed. Sweetly giving, yet demanding in her own right. She began moving, rolling her body against his. He copied her movements, thrust deep, eased out, came for her again. It was a dance of lust and desire. A partnership.
Her clothes became an encumbrance. Although he was still fully clothed, he ached to have her naked in his arms. He tugged at her dressing gown, freed her of it and impatiently grabbed her nightdress at the neckline, all but ripping it off her.
Naked, Thea was perfection. Their movements were growing more frenzied. He never wanted to be apart from her, not ever. He buried his head in her breasts, both arms around her waist. Her arms were around his shoulders. She moved harder, faster.
And suddenly, she cried out.
He felt her quicken, her hands gripped his shoulders, her body tightened.
Neal held her fast. She was gasping, repeating his name, whispering words he could not have made out even if he’d had sense, which he did not.
Nothing had ever felt as good as being inside Thea. No woman had ever so completely overpowered him with desire. She was quicksilver and light. She was the stars, the moon, the sun. In this moment, she owned his entire being. He could not imagine himself without her and was loathe to ever let her go.
She was his. Completely.
And he made his claim by burying himself deeper than he’d thought possible and releasing his seed with a force that robbed him of breath.
Her legs encircled his hips. She leaned against him, her body spent, her heart pounding against her chest and matching the racing rhythm of his own.
Slowly, he noticed the coolness of the room, the way the lamp sent flickering shadows around them, their reflection in the mirror. Her straight arms rested on his shoulders, her hands loose and relaxed.
Neal nudged her head where it was snuggled in the crook of his neck. She turned to him and he found her lips. This kiss was even sweeter than the others—and only then did understanding dawn.
Of course their coupling would be unlike any other. There had always been a strong connection between them. His father had realized that. It had been the reason he’d ordered the sixteen-year-old Neal to stop seeing her and sent him to London. Because of her, he’d sat Neal down and told him of the curse—
The curse. How could he have forgotten it?
Neal pulled away from the kiss and came to his feet, almost dropping her to the floor. She caught herself in time and stood.
She gave him a sleepy, seductive smile, her gaze dropping to his spent sex, which was already starting to stir at the sight of her warm, compliant, well-used body.
Dear God, he could have a go at her again. Only this time, he wanted to be naked as well. He could make love to her every hour of every day and still want her more.
Her lips were full and red from his kisses. Her skin radiated a healthy, rosy glow. Her usually properly styled hair was wildly tossed.
There was no other woman on the face of this earth more beautiful to him—and then he realized that he was in danger of falling in love.
Neal backed away from her, buttoning his breeches.
Dear God, what had he done?
She took a step toward him and he put up a hand. He tried to keep his mind blank, to literally freeze her out of it.
He’d refrained from chasing women not because he’d be
en circumspect but because he’d compared all of them to Thea. She was the ideal, the epitome . . . and he’d fallen in love with her without being conscious of it. Maybe he’d always loved her.
He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Thea,” he started but then stopped. What was he going to say? What could he say? He’d just rogered her lustily. She was his. She had nowhere to go, and that was his fault as well.
Her lips curved into a satisfied smile. She slid her arms around his waist. His breeches grew tight. “What may I do for you, my lord?” she murmured in a voice so sensual that he had to kiss her—
Neal dived away from her kiss. This was not right. He couldn’t marry Thea.
He must. He was honor bound to do so.
He began backing toward the door. She started to follow him. He moved faster. “Tomorrow, I’ll procure the special license—tomorrow,” he said. “We’d best marry posthaste.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, frowning as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.
“To my bed. And you need to go to your bed.”
Her mouth made a moue of disappointment, but she obeyed and backed up. He almost sighed with relief, until she lay on the edge of her bed, curling her lovely, naked body in the most beguiling way possible. She smiled, an invitation. “Are you certain you don’t want to stay?”
His breeches would not be able to hold him back. The buttons would pop off in a minute. Neal clutched the door handle as if it was a lifeline.
“It’s best I leave,” he defended himself, yet he wanted nothing more than to tear off his clothes and join her. Then again, what if all the other guests waited outside the door? He didn’t want them to tear apart her reputation more than they already would.
“Tomorrow.” The word was starting to sound weak to his own ears.
He opened the door and escaped into the hallway. Only then could he breathe again. He struggled a moment with his own weakness.
Neal had to think. He couldn’t marry Thea. His father had been right. If he married Thea, he would love her more.
And it wasn’t just the intimacy between them that he loved. He could talk to her and she listened to him. She was interested in what he thought and how he felt. And there was trust between them.
Cathy Maxwell Page 14
