He sat staring at her for several moments. His eyes trailed from her feet slowly up her body and settled on her lips. Heat followed in his eyes’ wake.
“But if I did that, what would happen to your family, what would happen to you?”
Beatrice hugged herself, fending off the strange glint in his eyes. “You know what would happen to us. We have no money. And it’s not as if any man is going to want to marry Henpeck Hennessey, is it? Not if you have our marriage annulled. The scandal would destroy me. But we—I—am not your problem.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You know of your nickname then?”
“Of course. The spiteful element within the ton took pleasure ensuring I knew.”
“I doubt you deserve the name. I suspect you earned the name by trying to stop your foolish brother from wasting the rest of your family’s money.”
Beatrice remained silent. Sebastian was right. She hadn’t cared what society thought of her. All she cared about was saving her family.
“You married me even knowing I had the nickname Henpeck Hennessey? What would you have done if I really was a henpeck?”
“In truth?”
When Beatrice nodded, Sebastian continued, “I would have taken you up to my estate in York, and left you there once I’d got you with child.”
“You could still do that.” Beatrice’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for his reply.
For the first time that evening, he smiled, and it turned her stomach inside out. “I suspect you wouldn’t stay there even if I did.” He took a sip of his brandy and eyed her cannily. “I suspect you’d want to find out who killed your brother, and I suspect I wouldn’t be able to stop you from trying.”
Beatrice nodded enthusiastically. “You are right, of course. I won’t rest until I find the culprit. But what are we going to do about our situation?”
Her fists curled tightly in her lap as she waited for Sebastian to tell her the fate that awaited her—and her family. If he annulled this marriage, no other gentleman would ever offer for her hand. To be refuted by a marquis—she would never be able to show her face in society again.
“There is no reason for us to annul our marriage. It doesn’t change the reasons why I accepted your proposal in the first place. It is time I married, and it is time I fathered a son to carry on the Coldhurst name. I never wished to marry for love. Love doesn’t belong in a marriage. You know the only things I want are respect, trust, and companionship.” He stared directly at her. “And I believe that between us we could find that. I’m not unhappy with the arrangement, if you aren’t.”
Beatrice let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He wasn’t going to walk away from her. He wasn’t going to destroy her, or her family, and she had never felt so grateful.
“As I offered the proposal in the first place because of my family’s precarious financial position, which hasn’t changed, I’m perfectly happy to continue with this marriage. In fact, it’s a lot easier to stomach marriage to you knowing you may not have been responsible for killing Doogie.”
“You have no objections to sharing my bed then?” He paused and his eyes filled with heat. “I find I’m desirous at the prospect of taking you to the bed behind us.” Sebastian must have noted the tremors that went through her body, because he softly added, “There is no need to be nervous. If you share my bed, I assure you, you will enjoy it. I think you can leave it to me to know what I’m doing.”
Beatrice thought back to the conversation she’d had with Lizandra. All Lizzy could talk about was the pain. But then, Sebastian Hawkestone couldn’t have earned his reputation as one of London’s greatest lovers by causing pain, only pleasure, and his reputation for finesse was undisputed.
He studied her steadily and said, “You look absolutely petrified at the thought. Has no one explained what goes on between a man and a woman?”
Beatrice nodded and looked away. She would have to tell him something. “I had a friend, a very dear friend. She had an experience that wasn’t very pleasant, and her experience has not made me look forward to intimate relations with any man.”
“So you are afraid? This friend of yours, her lover obviously wasn’t very skilled if all she felt was pain. No woman should feel any pain if her lover prepares her correctly.”
Beatrice turned to face him. “I feel inclined to believe you, since many women want to share your bed.”
“Have you never experienced desire? For any man? Or a woman perhaps?”
“Woman?” She puzzled over that while she took a deep breath. “No. I guess I’ve been a coward.”
“You must have been desperate as you broke your rule—you propositioned me.”
She could hardly deny it. “Yes. My family was desperate and I blamed you for our situation.”
“I suppose your father and your brother didn’t help raise your esteem of men in general. Did your mother not have the power to sway your father or your brother at all?”
“No. She had no idea how to manage them.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved cynically; he’d never allow any woman to “manage” him. “We should go to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. I’ve agreed to stand up for Christian, but then I’d also like to get back to London as soon as possible.”
Beatrice glanced over her shoulder at the large bed behind her and took a deep breath to steady herself. She quickly looked back at her husband. He wasn’t the man she thought he was, but he was still incredibly dangerous. Apart from his sensual charm and heartbreaker handsomeness, Sebastian Hawkestone possessed a potent quality that beckoned and lured, a compelling vitality that called to everything deeply feminine within her. Despite her fear about what went on in the marriage bed, she was also very vulnerable to him. The last thing she should do was fall in love with, or have feelings for, her husband, the man who made no secret that he despised love. A man who was only looking for someone to bear his children.
“I can see your mind thinking. Don’t let your fear cloud your judgment. You should empty your mind and put your trust in me to show you pleasures you have never dreamed of. Can you do that? For one night, your wedding night, can you trust the man you married?”
Her breath caught in her throat at the images his promise conjured in her mind. That and the seductive sensuality in his eyes held her so spellbound she couldn’t reply.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “Come here, Beatrice.”
She stared at him, still dazed by the seductive tone in his voice.
“You promised to obey me when you married me this morning. Come here. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
Warily she searched his face, darkened in the shadows, but it was the faint line of stubble along his jaw, lending his handsome features a dangerous intensity, that made her evade his gaze. Sebastian’s vital masculinity didn’t exactly intimidate her, but she would be wise to remain uneasy, for the forbidden sensations he aroused so easily in her both frightened and titillated. The raw, powerful sexuality emanating from him was palpable, the unspoken tension between them very real.
Restless and adrift in unfamiliar sensations, she finally obeyed him and got to her feet, moving across the small space to stand in front of him. He reached out and took her hand and pulled her closer until she was standing between his legs.
“Give me your hand, sweetheart. Touch me …” He guided her hand to his face. “I am flesh and blood, just like you. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to teach you all the pleasures that a man and woman can share.”
He made her breathless, fluttery inside. And yet there was something warm and tender in his eyes that doused her fear.
“This doesn’t frighten you, does it?” he asked, drawing her fingers to his lips, letting her touch him there.
“No …,” she murmured truthfully.
He pulled her gently down until she sat in his lap. His strong arms came around her to cradle her tightly against his chest. His face was so close to hers she could see the tiny lines at the corners of
his eyes. Laughter lines, her mother would call them, and it warmed her even more. He brought his mouth close to her and brushed her lips with his. They were warm and soft. Soft as the caress of a butterfly’s wing. An unmistakable yearning flooded Beatrice along with an unfamiliar hunger she could only call desire.
She stared at him, dazed, as he drew back.
The husky texture of his voice stroked her as brazenly as the hand that rose to graze the line of her jaw. “Have you never been kissed before?”
She shook her head. His beauty robbed her of all speech.
He brought his head down once more and pressed his lips firmly against her mouth. His kiss was like nothing she had ever dreamed. His mouth was hot, wet, open against hers, bold and excitingly intimate. Her nostrils filled with his scent. Her mouth tasted his brandy flavor as shocking pleasure assaulted her senses.
The kiss went on, and on, and on, until she felt as though she were drowning. Drowning in feelings. Drowning in emotions that she wasn’t sure she wanted to feel. Reluctantly his mouth pulled away from hers, and he drew in a deep breath while capturing her gaze.
“Did you feel that? Did you feel the same fire I did? The signs are all there. Your pulse has quickened, your skin is flushed. Your body responds to mine.”
Her heart racing, Beatrice sat in his arms trying to analyze the perfectly described sensations that were overwhelming her. She couldn’t believe she was indeed feeling this way, experiencing powerful, forbidden sensations for a man she had only known for a day, a man she really didn’t know at all. Never had she had such a primal reaction to a man, and it frightened her. She wanted to feel pleasure but nothing more. With just one kiss she was certain Sebastian could make her feel far too much.
In all her twenty-five years, no man had ever stirred her the way one look from Sebastian could.
His eyes darkened with sensuality like a cloud-covered night. Captivated, she stared into them.
His voice dropped lower. “Shall we retire, my lady?”
She didn’t protest when he stood with her in his arms and made his way across to the bed, which Beatrice eyed with trepidation, her mouth suddenly dry.
He looked down into her face, his gaze locking with hers. “Bridal nerves are not uncommon. I understand your nervousness, but I promise you have nothing to fear.”
“In this area, the intricate workings of pleasure, I curtsey to your experience. I trust you not to hurt me.” Not to hurt me physically, that is, Beatrice added to herself. The man had the power to hurt her emotionally if she let him.
She took a deep breath, chastising herself for being such a mouse. She was the one who had asked to become his bride, and agreed she would share his bed and provide him with children. Now it was her turn to uphold her end of the bargain, especially as it had turned out he was probably not guilty of the crime she’d thought him guilty of.
“Do you know what is supposed to happen between us?” he asked as he gently laid her on the bed.
“As I said before, I have an idea. But perhaps I have not been given the right information. I was told generally what to expect. That I should be prepared to submit and it will be painful the first time in particular.”
His eyes softened. “There will be a brief moment of pain, but after that, I promise you, you will find lovemaking quite pleasurable.”
“Half the women in England would not have rushed to your bed if you were not expert at what you do, my lord.”
“Sebastian. And it has not been quite that many.” His faint smile held more than a hint of charm. “I shall do my utmost to justify your faith in me.”
Beatrice searched his compelling eyes, finding a tenderness there that amazingly reassured her.
“I hope I do not disappoint you,” she said as she looked up into his face.
His brows drew together thoughtfully. “Disappoint?”
“You never wanted to marry me, and for all I know you never wanted to marry at all. I want to try and be a good wife to you.”
“I’m happy with this arrangement. I always knew I would marry and sire an heir. I just didn’t realize it would happen so fast.” A half smile flashed across his mouth before he gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “It’s too late now for recriminations or deliberations on our marriage.”
“I regret that I trapped you into an unwanted marriage,” Beatrice replied, her voice rough with emotion. “Especially as it seems I have made a grave error of judgment.”
Sebastian rose over her, the muscles of his arms taut as he leaned above her, commanding her attention. “Let’s not regret the past. We both agreed that we were not unhappy with this marriage. I don’t want to spend tonight dwelling on regrets.” His dark eyes held her spellbound. “Do you think we could make a pact, sweetheart? For tonight we forget everything else, we forget your brother, we forget how it was that we came to be in this position.”
“I would like that.”
“So would I.” His voice was hushed. “This is our night. Nothing exists before or after this moment. Tonight we celebrate our union and start the marriage as we mean to go on. Friends.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He reached out and slid his fingers behind her nape. Time suddenly seemed suspended as he leaned in and his lips drew closer to hers. Her pulse leapt in an erratic rhythm. His mouth was amazingly soft and tender when it touched hers briefly, yet it stirred a riot of unruly emotions within her. She didn’t know what she wanted, but when he drew back, his fathomless gaze locked with hers, imprisoning her as surely as any chains.
Beatrice’s heart hammered as Sebastian leisurely looked down her body.
“I want you.”
Still holding her lightly, he slowly lay back on the bed, drawing her to lie on top of him. She’d never been this intimate with a man before; she felt his powerful body beneath her, knowing only his robe separated her from the feel of his skin. She felt the rough hairs of his legs, the feeling alien but exciting. Heat spread in her, catching hurtfully in her stomach as she found herself stretched fully over him, pressed against hard muscles.
“When I kiss you, darling, open your mouth,” he murmured as he delicately teased her into parting her lips.
She’d never wanted a man to kiss her, especially not after Dunmire’s horrid attempts, but the erotic sensation of his open mouth tasting deeply of hers sent her pulse racing. Riotous feelings his tongue’s invasion created sent her senses reeling. It was as if he wanted to taste her, and she was his favorite dish.
She could feel herself surrendering to Sebastian, her breath quickening in ready arousal. How could one kiss wield so much power? Her senses swam in delicious confusion. The power he could deliver with just his mouth scared her. Thrilled her.
He left off kissing her and disappointment swamped her. To Beatrice’s joy he whispered in her ear, in a husky voice she could not deny, “Kiss me back.” Tentatively she complied, the novelty of seeking out the warmth of his mouth driving her boldness. Her tongue moved to meet his and she was rewarded by his low, guttural sound of approval.
Sebastian increased the pressure on her mouth with a new urgency. A heavy ache formed in her lower body as his intoxicating lips and tongue taught hers about kissing. So mesmerized by his wicked tongue, she’d not even noticed his hands stroking her back and bringing her lower body closer to his. She could feel him hard and pulsing beneath her.
Heated silence speared the room as they lay together learning each other’s taste and feel. Beatrice lost any perception of time, and any sense of herself. She should have been afraid. But something in his touch and kiss eased her fears. There was only the captivating awareness of Sebastian, of his raw masculinity and his sensual, drugging kisses, while she lay pliant upon his hard, strong body.
So far there didn’t seem to be a lot to be afraid of.
Eventually his kisses became more ardent. He claimed her mouth fully, dragging her into his kiss and sending delicious liquid sensations flooding through her defenseless body.
Frantic with need, she moved to curl her fingers in the silky softness of his hair, dragging him closer. It was as if he had lit a flame beneath her skin. She had no option but to ride the waves and press closer to him, longing for something she couldn’t name.
He pulled back and his eyes watched her as his hand moved to the tie of her robe at her waist. She felt herself drowning in their shadowed depths.
When his fingers found the strap to her nightgown, she tensed, but he bent to her again, his mouth hovering just above hers, heating her lips. “Don’t be afraid of passion, sweetheart. I can’t promise there won’t be a prick of pain the first time, but it will last but a moment.”
When she made no protest, he gently slipped the sleeves of her robe down her shoulders. With his teeth he pulled at the ties down the front of her nightdress; her arms, trapped by her robe, were helpless to stop him, or aid him.
Sebastian parted the sides to expose the swell of her breasts, and she watched his eyes flare bright with heated desire. He bent and nudged the material apart with his nose, inhaling her scent, baring her nipples to the night air, making her shiver. It was the first time any man had touched her breasts, and she found his response to her body an aphrodisiac.
When his bold fingers found one hardened bud, she moaned involuntarily as unknown sensations shot to her core. She should have been embarrassed but she could not bring herself to turn away from Sebastian’s heated gaze.
He leaned above her, dark and dangerous. “Has any man ever seen you like this? All soft and wanting,” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm.
She could not speak, merely shook her head. All thoughts, all words, fled as his thumb moved slowly over the sensitive crest, circling and teasing her breast. Beatrice shut her eyes, giving in to the pleasure he so easily aroused in her—who knew she was a wanton? His warm, commanding mouth returned to claim hers as he gently tormented her aching breasts, leaving her whole body stretched taut with acute excitement. She was scarcely aware when he folded back the edges of her robe and slowly drew up the hem of her nightgown, his fingers trailing up her thigh, a sear of heat following in their wake. She gave a loud gasp as his stroking palm moved higher, brushing the soft, swollen flesh at the apex of her thighs.
A Promise of More Page 8
