To Bed or to Wed

by Sandra Sookoo

  It might have been her imagination, but one corner of his mouth tipped in the beginnings of a smile. It didn’t bloom into full being. “I don’t need your false sympathy or your pity for why I am the man I am.”

  “I’m not giving you pity.” She attempted to pull her hand free of his. He kept her in a tight grip. “And there are other ways of keeping yourself from humanity than acting the injured bear, you know. It’s quite uncomfortable for those around you who love you. Why not seclude yourself from the world instead of subjecting us all to your bad humor?”

  It was the wrong thing to say, for his eyes darkened. He pressed his hard form roughly into hers. Every muscle in her body tensed and strained toward him, yet her stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement. What would he do? Would he truly behave as the beast he was rumored to be?

  “You have no idea how far past grumpy I can go.” He held her gaze, his roiling with unknown emotion. “Love does nothing for a man except make him vulnerable and weak. A man in love is merely prey for those who are stronger. Long ago I made a vow to myself to never be weak again.” Without warning, Nathan crushed his lips to hers.

  It wasn’t a kiss that stemmed from affection or even lust. This meeting was fueled by something much greater than even anger or annoyance for her intrusion. He moved his mouth over hers with consummate skill and authority, clearly endeavoring to teach a lesson. No, this kiss defied everything Charlotte had ever known, surpassed everything she’d experienced with the few intrepid men who’d been brave enough to steal one.

  She knew she should stop the proceedings or even try to slap him again, but she couldn’t. Her limbs wouldn’t respond to her brain’s command. Instead, she surrendered to him, let the liquid fire he’d ignited seep through her body while her curiosity expanded. She parted her lips at the insistence of his probing tongue and gave him permission to quite thoroughly ravish her. What was the point of enjoying the London life if she couldn’t deepen her knowledge? Since it was highly unlikely she’d marry, why shouldn’t she give herself over to passion just once? When he sucked her tongue into his mouth, she moaned and pressed closer to him.

  He wrenched slightly away. “Damnation, woman, why do you persist in provoking me?” His labored breathing rasped in the silence.

  “Provoking you?” She reeled from the change in subject, still a little light-headed from the kiss. But the feeling of restlessness persisted. At the very least, she wanted a sense of satisfaction from this meeting. Charlotte narrowed her eyes as she reveled in the knowledge he hadn’t released her body from between his and the door. “If I wished to provoke you, I’d be the one commanding the kiss, sir.”

  “Is that so?” Again, one corner of his lips quirked up but didn’t unfurl into a full grin. “Pray don’t keep me in suspense then.” His eyes darkened. Something dangerous and demanding lurked within those depths. “If you think you can best me in kissing, by all means try.”

  Oh, he was an aggravating man, and a challenge she wouldn’t mind attempting to go toe-to-toe with. Instead of giving in to common sense and fleeing, she slid her free hand to his nape and tugged his head to hers, then she kissed him, simply so she wouldn’t have to see the unknown emotions in his eyes. When he released her other hand, she clutched his shoulders as she nibbled his lower lip, but the frustrating lord refused to give her access. She made a sound of annoyance deep in her throat, and she lifted onto her tiptoes as she lightly bit his lip in punishment for his stubbornness.

  “Ah, so that’s how it will be, eh?” he whispered against her mouth. Remarkably, the words were tinged with slight humor, but that was all he let slip. Instead, he slid his hands around her and clutched her bottom. “Since you apparently think you can handle me once I’m riled, I’d like to test your fortitude.”

  Charlotte barely had time to draw a breath before he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. Tingles raced through her body. The heat from his hands on her backside seeped into her blood, warming her all over. As he pulled her tightly flush to his body, she couldn’t help but recognize the rigid outline of his aroused member against her stomach. Good heavens, he’s lost in the depths of desire. For me. Or possibly merely from the situation. Either way, she was powerless to resist his assault. Never had she felt consumed by a man before. He was what a man should be: strong, powerful, demanding. He wouldn’t let anyone cow him into feeble submission. Flutters filled her lower belly then became tremors of excitement mixed with alarm when he gripped her waist and lifted her, pressing her back against the door.

  “Nathan?” Her heavy-lidded eyes refused to open fully as pleasant lethargy weighted her limbs.

  “You poked the bear, my dear. Sometimes, he’s not willing to let the tender morsel scamper away.” He eased his lips along the column of her throat then licked at her collarbones, but the second he nipped the skin of her shoulder where it joined with her neck, Charlotte whimpered.

  Sensations swamped her. Liquid passion replaced the blood in her veins. Letting instinct guide her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles. She grazed the underside of his jaw with her teeth, wanting to bite him as he’d done her, but her courage deserted her at the last second. When he pressed her into the door, firmly holding her with the hard length of his body, she gasped as he rubbed against the center of her heat. A shudder of need moved through her core. Her heart tried to break free of her ribcage and still she teased his lips with hers, nipping, nibbling, sucking at his mouth and tongue as if the world would end in the next several minutes and she wished to go to her demise drowned in pleasure.

  “Lady rogue,” he murmured against her lips, right before dueling with her tongue. He slipped his hands beneath her gown, moved aside her petticoat and shift, and then caressed the backs of her thighs. “How far does your daring go, I wonder?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Wouldn’t she? This night had rapidly gotten out of hand, so much so that she teetered on the razor edge of scandal, and a bigger one than merely kissing him in the evergreen maze would have landed her in. But she couldn’t bring herself to call a halt. Her curiosity was bigger than her fear.

  “Actually, I would.” Nathan gripped her bare bottom. The heat from his fingers branded her backside and at the same time sent goose flesh sailing over her skin.

  “How far will you go, my lord?” Her whisper lacked conviction as if she wanted his persuading. She drew her fingers along the cool silk of his cravat, intending to unwork the complicated knot so she might taste the skin beneath, but he wrenched his head away.

  “Devil take it.” As if she’d suddenly contracted the plague, Nathan pulled from her, almost violently untangling her legs from his waist.

  Charlotte hit the floor, only wobbling a bit as her pudding-like knees tried to hold her upright. She reached for him to steady herself, but he backed away. Every sense felt heightened, strung taut, waiting for the breaking point. Words stuck to the tip of her tongue, and though she tried to say something, anything, into the heated, strained silence, she couldn’t.

  Nathan shoved a hand through his hair. “Get out of my study, right this moment.” Though he kept his voice low, the command reverberated in her chest. His eyes had a touch of wildness about them. “Do not, under any circumstances, seek me out again while you’re here.”

  With flaming cheeks and a vague sense of loss churning in her belly, Charlotte spun, fumbled with the latch then finally wrenched open the door. She fled into the dark-shrouded hall and didn’t look back until she’d gained the safety of the staircase. One thing was certain: her curiosity regarding the marquess was most certainly not satisfied.

  Chapter Four

  Bloody hell.

  Nathan clasped his hands behind his back as he stared out of his private sitting room on the upper floor. On the grounds below, Jamie, a young woman, as well as the same blond gentleman his nephew had been with in the maze set out across the snow-covered lawn toward the stables. At least there were three of them so nothing untoward would occur. He n
arrowed his eyes as another couple ran to catch the first group up, but neither of the ladies had the rich, red hair Charlotte possessed. His stomach clenched. He forced himself to relax. Despite his abominable treatment—twice—since she’d been at his home, she was none of his concern. She’d leave the estate in a few days and he’d return to London.

  Everything would go back to the way it had been before the night he’d very nearly ravaged her in his study. If he hadn’t come to his senses they would have made use of the floor to satisfy base urges. He shook his head. Had he no control? Phantom heat from her lips glanced over his, and only too well he recalled the silkiness of her derrière beneath his hands. Burying himself in the needs of his estate was the only solution. Once work had him safely ensconced, he wouldn’t have time to remember how well her curves fit against him or how warm and inviting her mouth had been when he’d kissed her last night or how the burn of lust had taken over when she’d locked her legs around his waist.

  Damn and blast. What would banish that female from his mind?

  “Are you still in a brown study or is there yet another new issue that’s giving you fits?” Alexandra burst into the room. Her strident voice scattered his wayward thoughts. “Either way, the country does not suit you, brother.”

  Nathan didn’t turn around. “Perhaps it’s the company I’m forced to keep in the country that doesn’t agree with me.” Between stumbling upon Jamie’s penchant for the opposite sex, his sister’s bedeviling him about how he should he conduct his affairs as well as the advent of Charlotte, his longing to return to the capitol increased every hour.

  “Put away the claws, Nathan.” Alexandra huffed. Rustling fabric sounded as she dropped into a chair, followed by the crackling of a newspaper. “I’ve never seen you so uptight.”

  Finally, he faced his sibling. “It’s been a tense few days. Having people at the estate has upset my holiday and my routine.” From the honey-colored hair arranged in a pleasing upswept style to the tips of her ruby-hued slippers, his sister was fashion-plate elegant, fit to grace a high-born lord’s arm and drawing room.

  “Your precious routine. More like grousing as if you were ninety then hiding behind closed doors until no one is in the halls again.”

  “Routine kept me sane when I would have given up.” His voice sounded gruff, but he didn’t care. While a prisoner, a schedule was the only thing he could rely on.

  “Then I suppose I must be grateful.” She rolled her eyes and peeked at him from over the edge of the Times. “Are you sure that red-head from the other night hasn’t gotten under your skin? You seemed thick as thieves with her. Thank God I arrived on the scene when I did.”

  He schooled his features into a mask of boredom. No way did he want to give her an opening with which to exploit him. And for the love of everything holy, she couldn’t know about the incident in the study. “If you refer to Lady Charlotte, I must tell you I have no designs on her—nefarious or otherwise.”

  “That is good to hear.” She flipped a page of the paper. “The Darrington family is beneath your touch or even your interest.”

  “Why would you say that?” Damn it, she’d engaged his curiosity. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his backside against the window frame. “Do you have intimate knowledge of the family?”

  “Just various on-dits. Nothing substantial.” She lowered the paper to her lap. “It’s said the new earl married far beneath his station. He chose a scullery maid or something. I’d rather our family not be connected to them in any way.”

  “Has it occurred to you Felix might have married for love instead of position? He might be in love—not possessed by leprosy.” Even as he said it, Nathan sneered. Poor bastard indeed if he had married for love. He’d be trapped and exploited. “I haven’t stayed in touch with him as much as I should have though we do see each other in passing while Parliament is in.”

  “I would advise against becoming chummy. When his sister leaves this estate, I’ll breathe easier.”

  Nathan grunted. “I have more willpower than pulling the woman into a shadowy corner and having my way with her.” His chest tightened at the thought. Their latest kiss—or almost ruination of Charlotte—jumped to the forefront of his mind and his groin hardened. Under no circumstances will I indulge in such a thing with her again. If he concentrated hard enough, the rose scent of her soap or perfume lingered in his nose. He still felt the flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers from when he’d restrained her hand when she would have slapped him or when he’d bitten the soft flesh at her shoulder.

  A brief smile touched Alexandra’s lips. “I’m glad to hear it, for there are other—better—women to charm than Charlotte Darrington.”

  “Meaning?” His patience with his sister was evaporating the longer they chatted.

  “Meaning you have a responsibility to your title as well as your family. Your job is to marry well, further your fortune, and elevate your sister into greater circles.” She patted an escaped tendril of hair back into place. “Social placement is everything.”

  “Society can go hang for all I care. It has done nothing for me.” Unable to stomach looking at his sister, he turned back to the snowy scene below. Another few stragglers followed after Jamie’s bunch and this time, Charlotte was among them. His breath caught and his pulse accelerated. Her hair was a brilliant contrast against the snow before she covered it with a gray scarf. “I want nothing from it other than to be left alone, and I most certainly am not interested in having my life upset by a woman mired in domesticity’s clutches.”

  “Pish posh, Nathan. Stop being a bacon-brained nodcock and realize your expectations.” She tossed the paper onto a nearby table. “You should try being more receptive to Lady Sophia Amherst’s overtures. She’s halfway in love with you anyway and would be a perfect addition to your life.”

  “I detest forward women who throw themselves at men.” Except Charlotte had been more than forward. When he’d called her a lady rogue, it wasn’t far from the truth. He rubbed a hand along his jaw. Outside, she broke from the group with a wave in order to hike alone in the opposite direction of the stables. Where did she intend to go? There was nothing on that side of the estate except parkland and woods.

  “You could do worse than Lady Sophia.” Censure hung on Alexandra’s voice.

  “True, but I could do better.”

  She snorted. “Better than a duke’s daughter? Who then? Unless you have a princess in mind somewhere, I’d like to see that.”

  Nathan grinned. “Higher class doesn’t necessarily mean a better person.” What he wouldn’t give to trail after Charlotte if only to find out her direction. Did she not care for the others’ company? Granted, Jamie and his friends were much younger, but still, did she prefer being alone or did she shun the trappings and silly entertainments of Society? Excitement tingled along his spine. Perhaps he and she had something in common after all.

  “Higher class means greater power.”

  He sighed and abandoned the outdoor scene in order to stare at his sister. “Ah, so that’s how the wind blows for you? You crave power? What about love? Isn’t that what women want more than anything?” Was that something Charlotte wanted?

  “Oh please.” Alexandra stood only to pace the cozy confines of the room. “I married Grantley for love, which,” the glance she shot him brimmed with barely concealed hostility, “you deprived me of that, didn’t you?”

  “You know what happened. I had no choice.” Would she never forgive him for things beyond his control on the battlefield?

  “Or you didn’t try hard enough.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “It matters not. I had his heir, though Jamie is somewhat of a disappointment.”

  “Ah, you cannot manipulate him well due to the fact his will is strong?” It had to be if he was willing to flout convention.

  “Not until he understands his responsibility.” She narrowed her eyes. “Until then, I shall hound him.”

  Poor Alexandra. “Do you know he�
�s told me he wishes me to have a marriage contract drawn up between him and Starkton’s sister?”

  “What a farce that will be. From what I understand, dearest Jamie isn’t remotely interested in the fairer sex. Starkton’s sister will need to turn a blind eye when Jamie goes chasing the man instead.”

  He couldn’t contain his grin. “This is true. However, since you are so fond of position, perhaps we should seriously consider his request. A veil of propriety will go a long way into furthering his career.”

  “Perhaps.” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “It will all fall into place. I want influence so I might be able to find him a better connection.”

  “And my marrying Lady Sophia will give you this?” He despised how shallow his sister had become. Had their childhood made her into this woman or had losing Grantley squelched her higher ideals?

  Again she rolled her eyes. The hazel, so much like his, caught the light and glowed more green than brown. “Once you wed Lady Sophia, she has promised to introduce me to Captain Mackelroy, who’s just returned to England, which in turn will put me in a prime position to make nice with General Averitt. The man commands a sizable fortune as well as influence in the Caribbean and America.”

  “Ah, then England has grown too stale and small for your appetite?”

  Avarice glinted in her gaze. “To my way of thinking, owning land and acreage across the globe and tapping into trade markets is much better than dangling after men here who oftentimes have an old, tired title but not the influence of funds.”