He caught her hand and flattened it against the bulge in his trousers. “Touch me, my sweet, or I’ll go mad.”
She nodded fiercely, overwhelmed by a desire to please him as he’d pleased her. When she curled her hand around the clothed rigid flesh, it jerked beneath her fingers.
Groaning, he shoved it against her hand. “Yes, darling Rosalind…like that but…harder…”
She smiled with feminine satisfaction as she took firmer hold of it. With a growl, he thrust against her hand, then hungrily drove his tongue inside her mouth with deep, bold strokes.
She rubbed against the stiff thickness in his trousers, increasing the pressure as he caressed her breasts and lavished fiery kisses over her cheeks and brow. Her curiosity about that part of him intensified until she cursed the layer of kerseymere that separated her hand from his flesh. Well, if he could pull up her skirts…She fumbled to release the buttons of his trousers.
He froze and caught her hand to halt it. “No, my sweet. I already want you beyond endurance.” Raw need sculpted his face. “And if you take my cock out, I swear I’ll bed you, virgin or no.”
For a moment, she simply stared at him stunned, the word cock ringing in her ears, so crude and coarse. Then the rest of his sentence hit her, and she realized the enormity of what she was doing. What she’d just done.
“Dear God,” she whispered as horror swept over her. She jerked her hand back from him. “Dear God, oh, dear God…” she kept chanting as she rolled off the bed.
Frantic to cover herself, she grabbed at the front of her gown and yanked it up, but it wouldn’t stay because he’d unfastened it. Vainly she twisted her arms behind her back to reach the buttons while sheer mortification overtook her.
He leapt from the bed with a curse. “Calm down; you’ll tear it!”
“Blast you!” she whispered, as he moved behind her and began deftly fastening the buttons. Her breath stuttered from her in quick gasps. How humiliating to have to rely on him to hook up her gown. And why must he be so very good at it? That could only mean one thing.
“You probably do this all the time,” she said with irrational jealousy, “play the lady’s maid for all your women—”
“All my women?” he bit out. “You make it sound as if I have a damned harem.”
“For all I know, you do!” It dawned on her that she hardly knew him. He might actually keep a mistress. Or two or three…He’d probably had virgins before, too, prettier ones than she.
Her heart sank under the horrible thought. “How you must be congratulating yourself on seducing me into acting the wanton not once, but twice!” she lashed out. How could she have been so reckless?
“Seducing you?” He swung her around to face him, frustration tightening his features into a scowl. “Don’t blame me for this! I warned you what could happen. I didn’t ask you to come here, of all places! I tried to throw you out!”
It was true, curse him. She’d brought this on herself. Even now, with his hands gripping her shoulders and his bare male chest only inches away, all firm and muscled and sprinkled with hair, she wanted to have him kiss her again, take her back to the bed.
She covered her face with her hands. Dear God, she truly was a wanton. “You’re right.” She pulled away from him. “I’m entirely at fault.”
“I didn’t say entirely—”
“This can’t happen again, do you hear? It mustn’t! You have no interest in marriage and I—”
“Want to be an actress,” he finished coldly. “Yes, I know. You made that perfectly clear before.”
She lifted her head to stare at him. An actress? Dear God, that dream seemed so remote from this wretched muddle. And she couldn’t help noticing that he hadn’t denied his lack of interest in marriage.
Knowing his past, she’d be surprised if he had any pangs of conscience about what they’d done. He certainly wasn’t the sort to marry a woman who practically threw herself at him every time he kissed her.
Not that she wanted the rutting beast to marry her. No, indeed! The last thing she needed was an impudent, devious man of affairs with a criminal past ordering her about.
Still, if he and his employer stayed here much longer, she didn’t know how she’d resist him. She’d never excelled at self-denial. If he continued these…cursed sweet seductions of his, he would either take her virtue, leave her with child, or both. It was one thing to be a spinster and quite another to be a ruined pregnant spinster.
She must stop this madness. She must do something to put Griff—and his employer—out of harm’s way, before she succumbed entirely to him and Juliet married Mr. Knighton. She could think of only one way, one plan that might work.
Bending to scoop up her fallen shawl, Rosalind headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he ground out from behind her. “We must discuss this.”
“What’s there to discuss? We agree it shouldn’t happen again, and I intend to take steps to ensure it doesn’t.”
“Take steps? What the hell do you mean?”
She hesitated at the door. “I’ve been foolish and selfish. I thought I could stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“All of it. Your being here. Juliet’s marrying Mr. Knighton. But I’ve tried and I can’t. And the longer I wait, the more chance…” That I’ll yield to you. She sucked in a painful breath. “There’s only one way to stop it. Helena won’t marry him, and I refuse to let Juliet marry him, so that leaves only one of us to offer herself in marriage.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, to say the words that might buy her temporary protection. “Me.”
Chapter 12
Nobody can boast of honesty till they are tried.
Susannah Centlivre, English playwright, The Perplex’d Lovers
Griff stared at Rosalind, dumbfounded. His Athena stood there with her hair tumbled down about her shoulders and her lips still reddened from his kisses, and she talked of marrying another man? Daniel, whom she believed to be her cousin?
He must have misunderstood her. “You’ve obviously scattered my wits. I could have sworn you just said you wanted to offer yourself in marriage to Knighton.”
She swallowed, her gaze fixed to the floor. “That’s precisely what I said.”
The thought of her planning to marry any other man after the intimacies they’d just shared sent rage boiling up through him, unreasonable, unpredictable, and ungovernable.
“Over…my…dead…body,” he enunciated in a low growl.
Her head shot up and for a long moment, she stared at him speechlessly. Then stubbornness glinted in her eyes, and she headed for the door again. He grabbed her by the arm, forcing her around to face him.
“Let go!” she cried. “You have no say in this whatsoever!”
“Why the hell not? You nearly let me bed you! That gives me all the say I need!” She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off. “Don’t try to convince me you were unaffected by our activities. This time I know better. I forbid you to marry him when you obviously want me!”
“You forbid me? Why, you arrogant bastard—you have nothing to do with it!”
The word bastard reverberated in the room, striking an ancient chill along his spine that evoked Eton’s cold garrett and the cruel taunts in the halls. Icy fury froze his blood as he backed her against the closed door and planted his hands beside her shoulders to trap her. “You didn’t seem to mind my arrogance or my bastardy a few minutes ago when I had my fingers inside you.”
For a moment she only gaped at him, two spots of color blooming high on her cheeks. Then she slapped him, the impact of her hand against his cheek echoing in the room. “How d-dare you!” she sputtered. “Y-You are the crudest man I’ve ever met!”
“Not half as crude as Knighton, trust me,” he snapped, thinking of Daniel’s frequent visits to the London trollops. “Nor even as crude as you, my sweet, who are leaving one man’s bed to throw yourself into another’s.”
He might as well
have struck her back, for hurt drained her eyes of their sparkle and leached her face of color. With a strangled whimper that would have melted stone, she slumped against the door, turning her head to lay her cheek against the oak panel. “That should not surprise you. You’ve already noted that I’m a wanton.”
Tears trembled on her lashes, flooding his conscience with guilt and dissolving his anger. Damnation, he’d made her cry. Self-loathing filled him as he shoved away from the door. What kind of monster had he become?
That was easy to answer: the green-eyed kind.
He was jealous. Of himself, for the love of God! He’d never been jealous in his life, and this was beyond ridiculous. If she wanted to marry “Knighton,” that was him. If by some chance she actually wanted Daniel—which he doubted—Daniel wouldn’t marry her anyway. So why torment her?
“Damn it, Rosalind, I didn’t mean…” He rubbed the cheek she’d slapped, which still stung. He should have known his Amazon would give as well as she got. Not that he didn’t deserve it. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of it. I know you’re no wanton.”
At her long silence, he swung his gaze back to her. She was staring past him now, tears streaming down her face and her shoulders shaking with the fruitless effort to contain them.
Something tore inside him. “You’re not a wanton. It’s not your fault I took advantage of the attraction between us.”
“But it’s…my fault that I…let you.” She was sobbing now, struggling to speak between great gulps of air. “That’s why I…must end this.”
He didn’t know which was worse—her pitiful sobs or her determination to get away from him. Forcing himself to stay calm this time, he approached her. “End it how? By marrying Knighton?”
“Would you have me…marry you instead?” She groaned, then added quickly, “No, forget that I said it.”
He went very still. He could marry her, couldn’t he? Until now, he’d been convinced she wouldn’t consider him—or rather, Brennan—as a prospective husband. But if she would take him as Brennan, thinking there was no advantage to such a marriage, then she’d surely take him as Knighton—
Damnation, what was he thinking? That couldn’t be what she’d meant. “I thought you wanted to marry for love,” he said softly, searching her face for a sign of her true feelings.
Rubbing her tears away with her fist, she bent her head to focus on the shawl she twisted in her hands. “Yes, of course. I couldn’t possibly marry you.”
The sharp words scraped at his pride, a reaction he tried doggedly to ignore.
She lifted her tear-streaked face to him. “Besides, you don’t want to marry, do you? You said so in the deer park. You said other matters concerned you more than marriage.”
Other matters. Memory slammed into him. He couldn’t believe he’d been so caught up in this that he’d forgotten his situation. If he married Rosalind, he’d have to reveal his identity, what he wanted…everything.
He stared down into her face, so hesitant, so expectant…so enticing. The possibility of marrying her tantalized him. She would belong to him, every fascinating, delightful, lush inch of her. And all he had to do to have her, aside from convincing her to marry the “wicked” Mr. Knighton, was—
Give up his plans for China.
He groaned. She wouldn’t understand his purpose or accept it, not Rosalind with her lofty morality. Delegation or no, she’d certainly never marry him if she knew he planned to strip her father of his title. So marrying her would mean giving up the other.
It would mean letting Swanlea win. Your pride balks at letting their father win…I know you want vengeance…Ruthlessly, Griff shoved Daniel’s words from his brain. This was not about pride or vengeance. It was about business, that’s all. A very large, very significant business with hundreds of employees who depended on him.
With a low curse, he whirled away from her to pace the room. It was madness even to think of marrying her with so much at stake. For the love of God, the woman even said she didn’t want to marry him. What sane man would consider choosing such a woman over the possibility of expanding his business threefold?
Daniel would, he thought. Women of Lady Rosalind’s kind are denied to me and always will be. You don’t know how fortunate you are.
He stiffened. Daniel was wrong. Griff knew precisely how fortunate he was—to have a growing company on the verge of becoming a major power in the world of trade. Unlike his sentimental man of affairs, he could appreciate that advantage.
So marrying her—telling her the truth—was out of the question. Unfortunately, however, she wouldn’t be making her foolish offer to him, but to Daniel, and Griff couldn’t let it go that far. If she offered herself as wife to “Knighton,” Daniel would have to refuse. Swanlea would demand that Daniel offer for one of the others, and when he didn’t would throw them both out. That would end Griff’s search for the proof.
He must change her mind on this. He faced her, again noting with a stab of guilt her fruitless struggle to contain her tears. Damn the woman—could she never do anything delicately? The sight of her so vulnerable cut him right to the heart.
He steeled himself against it. “You said you wouldn’t marry me, so why would you marry Knighton? You don’t love him either, do you?” When she shook her head no, he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “So you’ve decided to be mercenary. His wealth has convinced you.”
“No! How could you think it?”
He didn’t think it, not really. Although he’d grown accustomed to grasping women in recent years, she’d never struck him as one. But he wished she were. It would be easier to hold fast to his purpose if she were a greedy harpy.
“Why then?” he asked quietly. “As I recall, you swore not to marry merely to save Swan Park.”
She took a shuddering breath. “Unfortunately, Juliet has no such compunction. I didn’t realize until today how strongly she feels on the subject.”
“Then let her marry him, if that’s what she wants!” Because Lady Juliet was the sort to wait until Daniel proposed, which Griff would never allow to happen.
“But she doesn’t want it—that’s the trouble. She simply has this…insane determination to make sure we don’t lose our home.”
“He has to ask her first, and to my knowledge, he has not.” Nor will he.
She tilted up her chin. “Then my proposal will help him make up his mind. That’s all I want—to have this blasted business decided.”
“Even if it means you marry Knighton?” he asked hoarsely.
Her gaze skittered away from his. “Yes.”
He strove mightily to control his temper. “What if he refuses?”
“He won’t, unless he decides not to marry any of us. I intend to make him a very good proposal. He’ll get no better from my sisters, so if he won’t take mine, he might as well leave.”
Damn her. She placed him and Daniel in a devil of a position. And what the hell did she mean by “make him a very good proposal”?
“If you do this,” he warned in a last-ditch effort to prevent her from forcing Daniel into a choice, “I’ll tell Knighton about our intimacies. He won’t want a wife who’s been carrying on with his man of affairs.”
Her gaze shot to his, eyes glittering like a ruin of crushed gold and green glass. “Tell him if you wish. Though I don’t think he’d want a man of affairs who’s been toying with his respectable female cousin.”
Griff groaned. She would then expect Daniel to dismiss him or something absurd like that. He couldn’t win.
She squared her shoulders. “Besides, such…intimacies won’t happen again no matter what his decision, so it hardly matters.”
Absurdly, that pronouncement infuriated him. “You can’t offer to marry him,” Griff growled.
“Why not? So far you’ve given me no compelling reason against it.”
She tossed back her head. By God, she’d never looked more tempting. With her hair wild and free, her cheeks and lips flushed with color, and her ha
nds planted on her abundant hips, she was the very essence of warrior queen preparing for battle. A sensual, desirable warrior queen.
Damn her to hell. Giving her no warning, he stepped forward and caught her head to hold it still, then kissed her hard, driven by a mix of desire and yes, jealousy. Though she tried to wrench free, he refused to relent until she opened her mouth and took him inside. Then he thrust into it over and over, hungry, desperate. He sandwiched her between his freshly aroused body and the door. With a whimper of need, she strained against him and locked her arms about his waist. That only enflamed him more.
In seconds, he had his hand in her bodice kneading her soft flesh, thumbing her sweet nipple, inciting himself to madness again. Barely conscious of anything but pure raging lust, he ground his erection restlessly into her loins.
She stiffened. Then she shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back away from her. With the look of a wounded animal, she fumbled to straighten her clothes.
“You wanted a compelling reason?” he snapped. His breath came in desperate gasps as he strove to regain control. “That ought to be compelling reason enough for you.”
She dragged her shawl around her shoulders and clutched it tightly to her chest. “It is. It’s a compelling reason why I should marry him,” she whispered. “Because if this goes on any longer, you’ll use my desires to make a h-harlot of me.”
“Rosalind—” he began, but before he could say more, she tore the door open and fled into the hall. He ran out after her. “Damn it, woman, come back here—”
He skittered to a halt as he realized he wore no shirt, no coat, no waistcoat. Although the hall was empty, he couldn’t run after her like this. Not unless he wanted the entire household to know what they’d been doing.
A string of oaths poured out of him as he watched her bolt for the stairs, then hurry down them. Surely she didn’t mean to find Daniel now. For the love of God—
Racing back into his room, he dragged on his clothes, cursing at the endless buttons defying all his attempts at speed. He had to stop her. He had to talk to Daniel and make some decision about how to handle this before she reached the man.
A Dangerous Love Page 16
