“I’m fine, stop fussing, I haven’t been shot.” He took Stephen’s outstretched hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He stood gripping Stephen’s arm for a few seconds as he cleared his groggy head. He gingerly felt the back of his skull. No blood, good, the skin hadn’t been broken. All he could feel was a large bump.
“I take it you ran into trouble,” Stephen said. “The men have checked along the beach, but there is no one about. God damn it, we’ve missed them.”
“I came across two men. Then someone hit me over the head from behind. I did manage to get a shot away. I’m sure I hit one of them; I think it was Daniel.”
Stephen turned and called to his men. “You two, Gregory and Carter, organize the men to search the grounds. If he’s wounded he cannot have gone far.”
Rufus tried to clear his throbbing head; his skull felt as though it wanted to explode. He rested his head in his hands. Was it Daniel he’d seen, or did he desperately want it to be him just so he could use the baron as an excuse to despise Rheda? If Daniel was innocent then Rheda’s words would be true and he’d have to admit feelings for her that he had no right to indulge.
Rheda. He turned so quickly another bout of dizziness swamped him.
“Are you sure you are all right?” Stephen asked. “You have a nasty bump on the back of your head.”
“I am fine. I have to get back to the manor; if it was Daniel he’ll go to Rheda.”
“Are you sure?”
Rufus realized he wasn’t really. He shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no point standing here in the howling wind and rain. The men are searching the grounds; we should search the manor.”
Chapter 17
Rheda tensed at the sound of the purposeful footsteps approaching her room. Her stomach, already a twisted snare of knots, lurched, and she swallowed the bile rising into her mouth. There was no turning back. The scene she was enacting would probably seal her fate. But it was Daniel. Her brother. What else was she to do?
Luckily, Rufus’s shot had only winged her brother’s arm. Barely a scratch. She’d been able to quickly patch him up, and now Daniel was safely hidden in the caverns below the manor.
The blazing fire, and the warmth from her bath, couldn’t keep the chill from pervading her bones. She drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, willing her racing heart to calm down. He’d see right through this charade.
She knew Rufus would come for her. All games would be over. Time for the much needed reckoning had arrived.
Her door flew open with such force it almost came off its hinges. She flinched at the unrefined power and beauty of the man filling the doorway. Raw vitality emanated from his body, buffeting her senses. It was a very dangerous yet seductive combination.
His dark brown eyes disquietingly familiar did not even start at the sight of her lying naked in the copper bathtub. So much for the idea that her bodily charms might disarm him; after her actions earlier this evening, he was impervious to her nudity.
His broad shoulders filled the doorway, subtly reminding her there would be no escape. She allowed her gaze to travel up the hard lean length of him. His presence dominated her bedchamber. Her mouth went dry. She briefly closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer. “Where is he?” Rufus’s voice was as cold and imposing as the rest of him. Although she knew what was coming, this Rufus frightened her.
Rheda steeled herself against his dark insolent beauty and snapped, “Lord Strathmore, what is the meaning of this intrusion? I am bathing. Kindly remove yourself, sir, or with one scream I’ll summon help and have you removed.”
Cold and arrogant, Viscount Strathmore raised a sardonic brow. “Not a very convincing performance, Miss Kerrich. The only help a scream will likely summon is my men, and I’m sure they’d love to witness Miss Rheda Kerrich in all her natural beauty.”
He moved farther into her bedchamber with surprising grace for a man thrumming with tension, then stood before the fireplace, surveying her with a cool, raking glance.
Rheda shivered under his slow, deliberate stare; he made her feel tarnished, unworthy, but she lifted her chin and studied him with the same cool insolence he was giving her.
He was worth the attention. His hair that had flowed freely over his shoulders in the ballroom just hours earlier was now plastered to his head; water dripped onto his collar below. The threads of copper that ran through the rich, chocolate-colored hair glinted in the firelight, flashing danger.
“I won’t ask again.” The timbre of his voice, low and cultured, flowed like velvet but with an edge of steel. “Where is your brother?”
Rheda felt herself flush, but she kept her gaze steady, gesturing with one wet arm, around the room. “You can see my chamber is empty. I have no idea where he is.” She paused, raised an eyebrow, and continued, “Do you think he’s hiding in the bathwater?”
As soon as the rash words were out of her mouth she wished she could take them back, for he moved deliberately toward her until he stood towering over her at the tub’s edge. His scathing perusal swept the water, searching its dark depths before moving over her half-exposed breasts and up farther until their eyes met.
“You do not even seem surprised I am looking for him. Why is that, I wonder?” His questions held an edge of wryness.
Rheda dreaded having to respond. Whatever she said would only deepen the trap he was setting for her. Feigning indignation, she countered, “I am flustered, my lord. I have never before had a gentleman barge into my chamber while I was bathing.”
He dropped to a crouch next to the tub, his black breeches pulling tight across the powerful muscles of his thighs. With elbows resting on the tub, he leaned his chin on clasped hands. “Ah, but then my beautiful Rheda, earlier tonight you didn’t want me to be a gentleman.”
She swallowed, her traitorous body reacting to his husky murmur, the scent of sandalwood and masculinity surrounding him.
The wicked rogue slowly reached out and with one finger traced a droplet of water from her right shoulder diagonally across her exposed breasts until his finger rested on her now hardened left nipple hidden just below the waterline.
Her breath quickened. She desperately tried to ignore his touch, but her body grew hot with desire at the feel of his finger slowly circling her areola. His smile widened at her body’s obvious response.
His head turned and his seductive smile froze. Straightening, he moved to the corner of the room. A towel lay crumpled there, a scarlet stain visible on one small corner.
Rheda’s stomach knotted.
He swiveled to face her, no amusement or softness in his steely gaze. He stepped closer, grim anger scoring his mouth, but then he visibly repressed it. “Not seen him? Then where did this blood come from? I know I wounded him. If you are cut, show me. He has been here, hasn’t he? Where are you hiding him?”
“You misunderstand, my lord.” Rheda lowered her head, allowing her embarrassment to flame into her cheeks. “It’s my blood. My monthly courses have just started.”
Men, she knew, did not discuss such topics. She held her breath, hoping that would unsettle him. But his next statement made her choke on her own words.
“Stand up. We’ll see how truthful you are.”
Her head came up. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said stand up. If what you say is true it shouldn’t take long for the evidence to appear.”
Rheda’s fear was replaced with sparks of anger. Her teeth set and her voice changed. All pretense of softness and femininity gone. She snapped, “How dare you? Get out of my chambers, now!”
With arms folded across his chest, he commanded, “Either stand up or I will call my men to help you out of the tub. Your choice.”
Rheda closed her eyes, feeling a spell of dizziness. Lord Strathmore had her trapped by her own lies. She chewed her bottom lip, trying to decide what to do. She had to delay the excise men as long as possible. Long enough for Daniel to escape. Lifting her head, she squared her shoulders and, with great dign
ity, complied. She gracefully stood up, naked, proud and tall in the tub, water streaming down over her curves.
There was a bleak satisfaction at the reaction her emergence from the water provoked. Longing flared across the finely chiseled features.
He swore softly under his breath before flashing a mocking smile. “Rheda means goddess in ancient Anglo-Saxon—did you know that? You are aptly named, for you truly are a goddess among women.”
His gaze swept from her ankles, still hidden by the water, up her legs, halted at the thatch of fair curls at the apex of her thighs, continued over her stomach, and lingered again at her breasts, until finally resting on her face. Heat stole through her body and pooled in her loins. She noted his obvious arousal and the look of lust lighting his brown eyes. It was all she could do not to jump from the tub and flee.
Rheda kept her palms flat against her thighs, willing them not to try and cover her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing her embarrassment. Above all she did not want him to realize that he was the first man to ever see her naked.
But God help her, he did not stop there. He slowly circled the tub until she could no longer see him—he was somewhere behind her. She trembled in discomfort. It was unnerving not being able to see what he was looking at, or read the expression in his eyes. With her back to him, Rheda felt more exposed than ever, but she refused to turn around and face him.
The quiet seemed to stretch on, the only sound being the water dripping off her nude body into the tub. Each passing minute increased her body’s tremors. Soon she’d be unable to hide her distress.
Rheda closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
He spoke again, harshly and with ragged breath. “I see you lied.”
She started, almost falling forward out of the tub. She hadn’t heard his silent approach. He was close enough for his soft breath to caress her damp skin.
“This isn’t a game. A game where you think I’ll see your heavenly charms and forget what I am after. I want the whereabouts of your brother, and I don’t care how I get it.”
Regaining her composure and taking several large gulps of air, while still not looking at him, Rheda replied, “I’ll not let you hurt my brother.”
His only response was a touch. A seductive slide of his warm finger down her spine. Rheda tensed, waiting for the molten pressure from his finger to continue its downward path. But his finger stopped its seductive trail once it reached the end of her spine, leaving a sudden chill in its place.
“Does your brother know the lengths you go to protect him? Earlier this evening you seduced me so that he could carry on his smuggling business immune from capture. Your scheme did not work.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I grow tired of your lies. I can leave you standing here in all your glory as long as it takes. I’m finding the more I know you the more I grow immune to your abundant charms.”
His very stillness sent a shiver through her. “Your desire was not faked.”
Rufus gave a harsh bark. “Neither was yours.”
“That’s true. I do desire you. But tonight I learned something about myself. I want more, and we come from different worlds. You’d never understand mine, and I certainly wouldn’t want to live in yours. It would be far too restricting.”
Rufus moved to stand in front of her. Time stretched between them as his gaze bored into her. Her nerves pulled taut. What would he do with her?
One perfect eyebrow rose. “Desire me? Truly? Are you lying, sweetheart? If, once again, I were to offer you a position as my mistress in exchange for saving Daniel, would you take it?”
“You’re the one who’ll pay.” The anger infusing his face told her she’d said the wrong thing. He thought she was agreeing to his offer.
“You’d trade your body to save your worthless brother. Perhaps I should indulge in sampling your delights before I decide whether to save Daniel or let him rot.”
Rheda hugged herself. He sounded so defeated. So tired. As though this situation pained him as much as it pained her.
She’d driven him to this.
She’d not meant to, but she’d used the only weapons she had—her looks. The weapon had backfired. She’d pushed too far. If he followed this path, Daniel and Lady Hale would likely require him to do the honorable thing. Marriage to her would hurt him and his family even more. “No. Stop. That is not—”
He moved before she had time to finish her sentence, cutting her words with a kiss. He swept her up in his arms and walked with her to the bed, dropping her down on the soft bedding before slowly following her down and covering her body. The feel of his soaking-wet clothes wasn’t the only thing sending a chill through her. There was no softness in his touch this time. No gentleness.
Rheda struggled in earnest. Anger hummed around them. He was a man simply going through the motions of sex. This was no longer about pleasure; it was about teaching her a lesson. If he wanted to hurt her he couldn’t have found a better way. This was not how she’d imagined her first time would be—certainly not her first time with him.
His mouth took hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue probed her tight lips, forcing his way in. Invading. Punishing.
Rheda knew she deserved to be chastised. She’d teased this man. Pushed him to do something she knew he’d never forgive himself for. Or her.
If Rufus discovered he’d raped an innocent, it would destroy him. He had no idea who she really was. No idea that the rumors about her and the prince were false. She had never professed her innocence. Now he was going to pay the price for her pride.
She had to help him. Perhaps if he understood she truly wanted him, he’d not feel so guilty over what he was about to do. She might even be able to hide her virginity from him if she made it plain she welcomed his ravishment.
She stopped fighting him and kissed him back. She let loose her passion and took control. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and moaned low in her throat. She bent her legs to hug his hips and let him sink between her thighs. She could feel his rampant erection through his clothing.
On a groan his kiss softened. His hands gentled, and he let go of her wrists so he could stroke her body.
Would he stop if she asked? Could she reason with him now, or would he think it still a game?
For some reason she could not get the words out.
She watched with willing fascination as he shrugged rapidly out of his clothes.
He was fully aroused, and the magnificence of his nude body took her breath away. The muscles of his chest and torso rippled and flexed, and her fingers longed to trail every inch like the shadows from the fire dancing over his naked skin.
Her eyes roamed over him in a thorough assessment, taking in the hard contours, the robust swell of his arms, the flat ridge of his abdomen, the flesh, thick and rampant between his legs ...
“No more teasing, Rheda,” he urged, gripping her wrist and pulling her up on her knees. “You set this in motion, and now I can’t—I don’t want to—stop. Damn the consequences.”
His face was still hard and emotionless, but his eyes burned with intensity as he bent her over his arm and laved her nipples. “I want you. God help me I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you on that damn cliff with that barrel.”
She gave him a small smile. “I think I have wanted you as much. That is why I have fought you so hard. It scares me. This power you have over me.”
“Power! I’ve felt powerless since I met you.” Raw desire darkened his husky voice. “I want your softness clenching and shivering around my hardness.”
His mouth, hot and moist, licked the space between her breasts, sending heat searing to her very core. Rheda gripped his shoulders for strength, but she knew he wouldn’t let her fall. He licked and kissed, whipping her into a frenzy. When his delicious mouth grazed one jutting nipple, she arched more. He parted his lips and took the puckering bud into his hot, wet mouth, and she all but collapsed back onto the bed. Nothing had ever felt th
is amazing. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear. Every nerve ending screamed for more.
Turbulent emotions came bubbling to the fore. All her feminine instincts took over, and she found the courage to slide her hands over the skin she’d been hungering to explore. It was firm, hard, yet sensual.
She was conscious of his hand sliding lower. Rufus flicked his tongue over her nipple and then drew it fully into his mouth. He sucked at her breast while cradling her mound in his palm. Any thought of resisting him had gone from her mind. She didn’t want to stop him.
But he broke away from her, leaving her bereft. Her breasts felt raw and ravished from his delicious ministrations. If he asked her questions now, she might break. She yearned for his lips and hands on other parts of her, too.
As if sensing her every desire, he let her nipple slip between his teeth, and he turned his ravenous attention to her belly.
Hot lips pressed a trail against her taut skin, over her hips and down her thigh, branding her in the most wicked way. Her entire body trembled with the knowledge of what was to come—hoped was to come. She knew where this would end, and she couldn’t regret it. Her legs parted to make his access easier—faster.
She dragged in a deep breath as his hand went between her thighs, burning her skin.
“I still have the taste of you imprinted on my brain,” he ground out, his voice rough and turbulent, the tension of his restraint evident.
He parted her legs farther. The flesh tingling and exposed to him—he needed no encouragement to take eager advantage.
His fingers parting the curls at her junction, Rufus, holding her gaze, lowered his head. The heat in his eyes blazed, and she closed her eyes at his first lick.
She arched and cried out as his hot, slick tongue lapped the sensitive area. Her fingers curled in the sheets, and she let out a deep and guttural groan as pleasure so intense—soul-wringing pleasure—raced over her.
He lapped her dewy folds of flesh, softly, almost reverently, then flicked the tip of his clever tongue over the delicate hardened nub, causing her to sob and cry out. “Oh, Rufus.”
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