by Shayla Black
Driven by a turmoil he could neither control nor understand, Gavin gave in to the spiral of want coiling inside him and bent to Kira, claiming her lips in a blistering, possessive kiss. He kissed her thoroughly in a taking that melded their mouths with ravenous demand. Though she stood still and disobliging, she tasted so sweet, so hauntingly familiar. He belonged here—some part of him felt certain of that.
Blood rushed through every bit of his body, carrying a tide of craving with it. He did not even want to think about how quickly she made him hard. It was not an achievement he was proud of. But Kira made him feel more than that. Her smile drew him. Her laughter and intelligence tugged at him. She didn’t have sharp edges like Cordelia. She wasn’t aloof. Kira was all passion, all fire. She lived by her heart. And he wished he shared her courage so he could do the same.
But he could not.
Gavin looked for the strength to pull away, to remember he was a man engaged to wed another. His strength was frighteningly absent. Hungry, insatiable, the need within him clawed for supremacy.
And as he laid his lips over hers again, reaping of the perfection of her kiss, the need won.
Wanting her willing response, he gentled the kiss, coaxed her response. A brush of his lips, the warm slide of his tongue, a soft moan, a caress of her shoulder, and she began to melt.
Pulse skipping, he deepened the kiss, sinking into her slowly again. This time, he tasted, indulged, hands skimming her back, her silky black curls. Gavin did his best to take her in, to memorize every bit of her.
His mind grew sluggish. His body took over. As she clung to him, arms cast about his neck, the fire inside him became a slow-burning inferno. He had no notion how—or if—he might ever put it out and suddenly, he could not care.
Over the roaring of his heart, Gavin registered the sound of a click from far away. Suddenly, Kira’s palms at his chest began to push. He redoubled the persuasion in his kiss. A gasp followed next, but he could not bring himself to leave the lush warmth of Kira’s mouth to investigate.
Then someone roughly grabbed his coat and shoved him against a wall.
Disoriented, Gavin looked about to find himself staring into Darius Melbourne’s furious hazel eyes.
“You bloody libertine! I warned you to leave my sister alone.”
Gavin opened his mouth to answer, to apologize—something—when , when he caught sight of James standing behind Darius. Utter shock transformed his cousin’s features. Aunt Caroline stood just beyond James, her face a mirror of her son’s.
“Gavin!” cried Aunt Caroline.
Then he saw Kira, lips berry red and swollen. Color flushed her cheeks. She trembled. Even if they hadn’t seen the kiss, no one could have more than a moment’s doubt what they’d been about.
Damn! Everyone would be angry. Kira would be humiliated—
Darius grabbed Gavin by the cravat and pounded him against the wall once again. His head struck with a thud. Pain radiated from the back of his head until it enveloped his entire scalp.
“It wasn’t enough for you to lust after my sister,” Darius spat. “You had to ruin her, bed her. And still you chase her. Even after I warned you to stay away from Kira, you didn’t. Are you so led around by your lust—”
“Yes,” Gavin said to shut Darius up. “Every Daggett is a cad, through and through. I’m sorry.”
Aunt Caroline gasped.
James’s frown revealed he still struggled to understand. “Y—you ruined Miss Melbourne? You took her to your bed and…”
The horror and betrayal on James’s face told Gavin he understood, believed the truth, and loathed him for it.
Darius shoved Gavin against the wall again. “Answer him!”
He sighed, knowing he owed his cousin an answer. “Yes, James. I did.”
Shock, disappointment, and hurt transformed James’s soft, young face.
Closing his eyes, Gavin let the regret and dread slide through him. He was a blackguard of the first order, no doubt. But then, he’d known that for some time.
“You—you ruined her and have made no plans to marry her?” James struggled to grasp the concept.
“He informs me he plans to wed Lady Litchfield,” said Kira. “She, apparently, is acceptable.”
Gavin watched tears tremble in the corners of her endless blue eyes and he hurt. Damn, how badly he ached. He’d never wanted to see her pain. Never. But he’d explained that he’d been trying to save her from him and the utter depravity his life would become, and she refused to believe him. How could he convince her that she would thank him someday?
“You cannot!” James protested.
“I agree,” proclaimed his aunt.
As if they’d never spoken, Kira glared at him and raised her chin. Then she regarded James and Caroline. “He asked her today, and she has accepted.”
“What?” Darius demanded in a low hiss of breath, shoving his forearm into Gavin’s throat.
“Oh, my word.” Aunt Caroline began fanning herself.
Darius looked ready to kill. “I’ve had all of this bloody mess I’m going to take. Find a pistol and name a second. I want to see you at dawn.”
Aunt Caroline gasped in unison with Kira.
James tugged on Darius’s sleeve. “Violence will solve nothing.”
“No, but killing your cousin will certainly improve my mood.”
“Oh, my goodness.” His aunt fanned herself more quickly. “Oh, Gavin. Someone. This is simply awful. I fear I shall need smelling salts!”
No one heeded her.
Gavin regarded Kira’s brother with the calmest gaze he could muster. “A duel will only incite more gossip, and I will not have my family’s name being bandied about by the ton.”
“You should have thought of that before you seduced my sister.” He swallowed. “If you refuse to duel, I expect you to do the right thing, you lecher. Marry her.”
Lord, he wanted to. The idea of making Kira all his in every way, for the rest of his days was indecently tempting. Except for one problem… “I will only make her miserable.”
Darius’s mouth curled down into something ugly. “Maybe so, but you won’t make her a whore.”
“Darius!” Kira cried.
Gavin knew he could have struggled against Darius. He was an inch or two taller and outweighed the younger man by twenty pounds. He’d been boxing all his life. But what was the point of fighting? Darius was determined to see them wed, regardless. Aunt Caroline looked disappointed and James disillusioned. Kira hated him, and well… he hated himself.
Marrying Kira would not change any of that. But Kira would be his, for better or for worse. Her smiles, her passions, her joys and sorrows all his for the taking. He just hoped like hell that he didn’t crush her heart when the bad Daggett blood finally conquered his good sense.
Or perhaps he could simply give her the protection of his name and retire to the country, put hundreds of miles between them so he would not be tempted beyond his bearing anymore. Yes, that might cool his blazing need to be with Kira. Except he knew he would miss her terribly.
But, as always, Gavin would do his duty.
“Let me go,” he demanded of Darius.
The dark man hesitated, his hazel eyes narrowing, assessing.
“If you want me to ask your sister a particular question, you must release me.”
Darius hesitated, then after a small shove into the wall, he released Gavin. A smart move, as far as Gavin was concerned. He itched to fight back. Darius had interfered too much in a situation he could not understand.
After righting his coat, he approached Kira. James and Aunt Caroline ambled backward, out of his way, watching with avid interest.
Kira herself stared with wary blue eyes. She looked exotic and ethereal at once, somehow fragile. But he knew when forced, she could be very strong. And for that he was glad. He had little doubt she was going to need every ounce of fortitude to survive life as the Duchess of Cropthorne.
Everyone stared, and Gavin
felt their gazes poking him from every direction. He’d made this bloody mess in private. Could he not try to atone for it in a similar manner?
“I want a moment alone with her.”
“No,” Darius returned immediately. “I plan to stand here and make certain you do the thing correctly.”
“I think he is right,” Aunt Caroline seconded. “It would be most improper to leave you alone, and we need no more of that. Now ask her.”
Gavin cursed. A proposal was a private matter. He did not need a blasted audience to watch him. But they had left him with no choice, damn it all. Did they think he had so little honor that he would refuse to do the thing after saying he would? The thought infuriated him. He was a man of his word.
No, now he was merely a defiler of innocence in their eyes.
Spine straight, he approached Kira. Anger with her brother, with the situation, bled into his voice. “Miss Melbourne, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
He sounded stiff, but there was no help for it. And for long moments, she said nothing. Instead, she searched his face with the thick-fringed pools of her eyes, confusion imprinted on her lovely countenance.
“Why?”
“Certainly you can see it’s what everyone expects. This family does not need the kind of gossip that will arise if your brother and I duel. Everyone will surmise what happened and no one will stop talking about it. Marriage is the only remedy to rectify this mistake.”
Gasping, Kira stared at him. “You have nothing else to say? No other reason?”
She wanted him to declare undying devotion. Grinding his teeth together, anger sizzled inside him. Listening to his desires rather than his conscience had landed him in this position. Lust he could easily admit to, even fondness and a certain amount of affection. But love? A vow to be only with her always? The Daggett blood simply did not make that possible, and he refused to utter a promise he could not keep.
He shook his head. “There is little else to say. Marriage is the only way to avoid a terrible scandal. We can spread the word that it was an impulsive love match and do our best to act the part. People will still talk, but imprudent marriages are sometimes made in the name of love. We can simply claim to follow suit.”
Kira reared back, stunned. “Y—you have insulted me in every way possible!”
“I apologize,” he said, not knowing how else to reply.
“You wretch!” She scowled at him, fury pounding across her face. “I will not marry you.”
“You will!” Darius insisted.
“I think you must, dear,” said Aunt Caroline.
She shook her head. “In fact, I would not wed his grace if he was the last man on earth. I mean to be someone’s bride, not someone’s burden.”
“You must be reasonable, Kira,” Darius said.
“Indeed,” said James. “If you’ve allowed Gavin to know you in the biblical sense, then you must accept him as a husband.”
She appeared not to hear them. Instead, she turned to face Gavin.
“I loved you!” She threw out the words like an accusation. “After everything you’ve done, everything we shared…” She shook her head, hurt and fury dominating her lush countenance. “I guess you really are a heartless bastard.”
* * * *
Kira darted from the room, stunned, completely stripped of happiness and hope for the future.
On the other side of the wall, she heard her brother’s voice raised in anger. She ran up the stairs, relieved when the voices faded away.
When she heard another set of footsteps, Kira realized someone followed. She turned to find Mrs. Howland huffing her way up, skirts held at her ankles.
“Miss Melbourne.” She swallowed, panted.
Kira felt ready to scream. Could the woman not see how much she wanted to be alone? She did not want to stop or talk. She merely wanted to pack her bags and be gone, put this entire mess behind her.
But she could not be rude. “Yes, Mrs. Howland?”
“I—I have no…” She brought a fluttering hand to her chest and moaned. “Oh, I must apologize.”
“Apologize?” She sniffled. “You have already done so.”
“No, for something else entirely. I feel terrible, even worse than before, to know what I have done and how it has brought about your ruination.”
The older woman was babbling and nothing made sense. “Mrs. Howland, I assure you my ruination was my fault.”
“Oh, no, my girl. I pleaded with Gavin to find a way to eliminate you from James’s life, for I knew you did not suit him. As I recall, Gavin did his best to shame you and pay you into leaving. And then, oh—” She moaned, lifting a lacy handkerchief to her lips in a moue of distress.
The older woman was so flustered that Kira took pity on her. “I won’t deny that such tactics anger me, but they did not work. Everything else that happened between Gavin and I—”
“Was, at least in part, my doing. When you appeared unmotivated by either your conscience or your purse strings, Gavin was determined to appease me, so he devised a scheme to compromise you. And I see it worked all too well…”
“Compromise me?” Kira felt her stomach drop to her toes in a sickening rush. “He plotted to—to ruin me?”
“He meant for my James to find you in some disreputable position and force an end to your engagement. At the time, I thought it a splendid notion, but now I feel so wretched. You did not love my son as I want him to be loved. Nor did I want to see his new career end before it began. But you love Gavin, and my nephew has broken your heart, I can see. I never imagined— I am sorry…”
Shocked hardly began to describe how incredulous and awful Kira felt. Her stomach tumbled, her throat constricted. Everything she’d believed about Gavin, the flashes of tenderness and caring, his appreciation of her as a woman of talent and intellect… None of that was true. At the time she had wondered about the odd change in his behavior. Kira wished to God she hadn’t assumed he was burying the hatchet in the name of family harmony. If she had remained suspicious and diligent, none of this would have happened. She always wanted to believe the best about people. Apparently she would be better served to believe the worst.
“I understand,” she mumbled, though she did not.
Gavin had never cared, not at all. His friendly chats across the breakfast table, his praise of her music, his comfort when she’d been thoroughly spurned at Lady Westland’s—all of that had been a lie.
How he must have laughed at her, at how easily she agreed to warm his bed again and again. No wonder he had never wanted to marry her. He’d imagined her to be a slut from the moment they met. How he must have laughed at her each time she bared her body and her heart…
Shame at her behavior, at her naïveté, engulfed her.
Mrs. Howland put a tender arm about her shoulders. “If I’d known my machinations would break hearts, I should never have meddled.”
Though Kira was surprised at the older woman’s kindness, she could not turn it away. For a moment—just one—she needed the comfort of a mother figure. Lord knew she’d heard little from her own in the years past.
“James’s heart is not broken,” she assured the woman.
“I know. But you… Oh, you poor thing. And Gavin. He is hurt as well.”
Kira doubted that was true but would not argue with the older woman.
“I think it would be best for everyone if my brother and I left tonight.”
“I understand.” Mrs. Howland nodded, then hesitated. “If it gives you any ease, I believe that Gavin cares for you. He may have proposed to Lady Litchfield, but he does not love her. The match is a good one socially and financially, but that is all.”
Kira knew the woman was trying to help. She also suspected Mrs. Howland was right. But it did not matter. Gavin had not learned to put his heart above societal expectations, family obligations, and prejudices. And it was unlikely he would, given the fact he had only seduced her to oust her from his cousin’s life.
Pa
rt of her wanted to run down the stairs once more, fling open the parlor door, and confront the cad for what he’d done. But why? Even if he apologized, what would it change? Gavin still thought her beneath him. She’d been a fool to hope a duke would marry an earl’s niece, much less a part Persian one, when he could have a countess who epitomized fair English beauty.
Kira knew that neither she nor Gavin could change who they were. It was time she accepted her heart had led her astray and go home.
And she had no illusions. Once she left here tonight, Kira knew she would never see Gavin again.
Chapter Nineteen
Two days later, Gavin, his aunt, and his cousin gathered at the Euston Station in London on a bright Tuesday to watch the T & S Railroad launch its first passenger train to Birmingham. The black stack at the front of the train chugged a stream of gray steam from the smokebox into the warm blue sky. Excitement tinged the air as the train sat waiting while passengers filed on board.
Ten o’clock seemed an ungodly hour of the morning given the fact Gavin had stayed up all night pacing a house empty of Kira, bottle in hand. Today, his head was reminding him why he never drank to excess.
Only Kira could drive him to extremes…
“Did you ever think this day would come?” Brock said beside him, sighing with pride.
Wishing his hat shielded more of his eyes from the blinding sun, Gavin peered at his friend. “I knew you would make it happen. That is why I threw my lot in with you.”
Brock smiled. “Well, with the bureaucracies, the farmers in Northampton opposing us, and my own little barricade in Warwickshire…”
He squeezed his wife’s hand.
“I heard that.” Her voice warned him, but she smiled at Brock with love, a protective hand resting on her slightly rounded belly.
Gavin looked away. They shared something truly special. That was love. Even when they had argued several years ago about Brock’s acquisition of the land in Warwickshire, Gavin saw that their bond even then had been one of the heart.
Not ten feet in front of him, Cordelia stood in conversation with the engineer, Robert Stephenson, stylish blue bonnet shielding her fair face. Despite the fact she would be his wife in one week, he’d never have anything more than friendship with Cordelia. And Kira— It did not matter now. She was well and truly gone.
