“I warned you about touching Lady Rebecca. Never attempt it again.”
Bennett laughed, a sneering jibe. “Or what’ll happen, Sherwyn? You’ll challenge me to a duel? You were shown to be a coward when you ran away from one with the viscount four years ago.”
The collected group gasped at the brazen audacity of the man.
In a deceptively calm voice, Cayle warned, “Yes. That’s exactly what I’ll do. Challenge you to a duel. And this time, I won’t spare my opponent for any noble reasons. In fact, I’ll take great delight in shooting you dead centre in your black heart.”
Becca held her breath as Arthur assessed the situation, willing him to leave without fuss. If he were dimwitted enough to make a scene, he’d garner no support from this group of Jamisons and St. Martins. With dawning horror, she realised she’d exchanged too much of her fiercely won independence for the simple joy of spending time with Cayle. As a consequence of her self-indulgence, she’d forgotten how dangerous it was for anyone to become associated with her. How could she have forgotten Peggy’s gruesome end?
Wisely, Arthur decided on a hasty retreat yet couldn’t resist one last taunt over his shoulder.
“You’ll rue the day you joined forces with this horde, Sherwyn. They’re doomed.”
He waved a hand at the St. Martin men and sneered his contempt. “Your entire family too, if they continue to associate with Jamisons.”
With that parting jibe, he hastened away before the men gathered their wits enough to query his last sinister remark and chase after him.
Becca stared at the cluster of angry men, their dark protectors. Caught up in the whirlwind of recent events, she’d leaned too heavily on Cayle and put her trust in the capable hands of he and his friends. She’d listened to her heart, not her head, and her resolve to part from him had weakened.
Now, she needed to be strong. Thank goodness her almost lover had been strong enough to walk away the evening before. If only it didn’t hurt so much.
Chapter 17
Four hours later, Becca’s feet ached from dancing and her voice was hoarse from endless discussions of inclement weather.
The earlier incident with Arthur left her mind churning with the sickening knowledge that all the St. Martins were being watched. Somehow, she must convince them that she could control Arthur and their interference was unwelcome. The last thing she wanted was Cayle embroiling himself in another scandal, being challenged to another duel. Her limitations, her flaws, had placed him in this danger. Disappointment that despite joining forces they’d failed to gather enough proof for Scotland Yard, increased her weariness.
Walking away from the dance floor, her shoulders were slumped with fatigue when a large male blocked her path, forcing her to look up. She sighed, unable to hide her exhaustion from Cayle’s astute gaze. He shook his head, and then escorted her to where their hostess was engaged in chatter with Aunt Agatha.
“Lady Rebecca is feeling faint,” he said. “With your permission, I will escort her to the terrace for a little fresh air.”
“Oh, heavens yes, Your Grace,” Lady Moreland gushed. “Very considerate of you. Young girls these days are not as robust as we were in my day. Chits fainting at the slightest thing.”
Before Becca could object, Cayle bowed to the ladies and turned. Thanks to his quick thinking, they escaped before Lady Moreland’s meandering thoughts led to a dissertation on the faults of the young gentlemen of the day as well. Becca was led to the relative privacy of a narrow nook above the magnificent gardens, suffering the indignity with a fixed smile, however, inside she seethed. The moment they were clear of onlookers, she rounded on Cayle.
“What in heaven’s name are you playing at? We’re supposed to be enamoured of each other. You’re supposed to fetch me lemonade and escort me to supper. Look at me like a besotted fool.” She clasped her hands and rolled her eyes in a theatrical gesture copied from Laura’s repertoire. “Not fabricate a transparent untruth to drag me outside.”
Cayle stopped, motionless, staring at her as if it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her, intensely, intimately. Then his eyes widened with some sort of inner revelation and he ran his hands up and down her exposed arms from her wrists to shoulders. When it appeared he wasn’t going to stop, Becca squirmed out of his grasp to loosen his hold. In a dazed state, he stood and stared at her.
“What? You look like you’ve never seen me before.”
“I don’t think I ever have.” She watched him swallow, hard. His voice sounded strained. “Seen you I mean. You’re stunning.”
She tilted her head to one side as she studied him, trying to decide what was wrong. “Are you foxed again?”
He shook his head. “Not nearly enough. I did sneak one brandy to keep me calm. Otherwise, I would’ve marched onto the dance floor and pulled you away from those lecherous idiots long ago.”
“Oh, heavens. Please allow me some small intelligence. I know when someone is making a game of me.”
“Has no one ever told you before how incredibly beautiful you are?”
“No, and I don’t know why you’re saying that. It certainly isn’t true.”
With a small smile, he said, “It is true. You’re truly beautiful.”
She shook her head. “I’m not tall enough. I have freckles.”
“Twelve.”
She was even more confused. “Twelve? You’ve counted my freckles?”
“Yes, although I never realised it until now. I’ve counted every one. And I know you screw up your nose in disgust when one of your adoring male followers utters something inappropriate.”
“Male followers? Now I know you’ve been drinking. I’m not like the other girls in there. I’ve never had men falling at my feet.”
“And do you know the thing I adore most about you?” She shook her head in bewilderment.
“It’s that you’re totally oblivious to how wonderful you are.”
He leant in closer so his breath whispered over her temple. “All those men, Becca.”
“What about them?”
“They already know what it’s taken me this long to realise. You’re unique. That’s why they swarm around you like bees to a hive. They’ve all sensed that deep passion inside you. That sensual side you thought you kept hidden. But, you were wrong. It’s there for every man to see. For every man to want, to desire.”
“Cayle, you aren’t making any sense. If any of this is true, why have I never noticed any of this? These men only befriend me for financial gain. They think I can pass on investment information.”
“Does it make sense that I don’t want you for those mundane reasons?”
His eyes glittered with a deep passion that she’d not let herself hope for before, but that she couldn’t now ignore. The fire in his eyes matched the fire igniting in her.
Deep in her belly and spreading to warm her everywhere. Ever so slowly, without taking his eyes from her, he dipped enough that his lips could touch hers. The gentlest of caresses. Her heart stuttered.
She gaped at him, amazed that he was saying this. However, she recognised it now in his unguarded look. He wanted her. Her. Rebecca Jamison. Perhaps hungered for her as she ached for him.
Without consciousness, she leaned into his warmth. Moved closer to his hardness. Pressed her breast against his chest until with a deep groan, he closed his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. All the tenderness he’d shown for the past days evaporated. Left in its place was an unleashed male, dangerous, and past any semblance of his usual tightly controlled behaviour. This time when his head dipped, his mouth folded over hers to take her with a hunger that drew an immediate response.
Her sensual feminine side, often buried as she dealt with harsh day-to-day realities, was unleashed. When their lips touched again, she was out of her depth. Every touch of his warm flesh on hers had her enthralled. Held spellbound. Unable to move and worst of all, not wanting to move away as she knew she should.
His voice in
her ear sounded rough with emotion. “I want you. So much that seeing all those men dance with you, lust over you, nearly drove me to madness.”
His lips brushed her temple and she shivered.
“Cayle, I’m not the sort of woman who lets herself be kissed by every man she meets. I wasn’t about to let any of them touch me.”
A laugh rumbled out of his throat. “Don’t you think I know that? You were engaged to that idiot Bennett for almost a year and yet you kiss like an innocent. Or rather, you did until I recently restarted your education on that matter.”
She knew Cayle didn’t mean it as a dare but Becca could never let a challenge go unheeded. “I haven’t been in hiding since you left. Many men have flirted with me.” She tilted her nose higher to give him her haughtiest stare. “So, if I want to kiss a man expertly, I will. I certainly know how. Arthur and I kissed often.”
“Ah, so he did kiss you. You’re too untouched, too untried for him to have given you anything more than fumbling pecks. No wonder you’re so inept.”
Fury made her draw herself up and point her finger in his face. “If I’m inept, it’s you who made me so. As you delight in pointing out, you were the one who taught me.”
Cayle grinned, white teeth shining against his sun darkened skin.
“At last you admit how good it was that last night behind the stable. What we did together.”
“What I remember is you kissing me, but it was of so little consequence to me that I’ve never thought of it again.”
Feigning a devastation she was sure he’d never felt in his life, he clasped both hands over his heart. “My beautiful lady, I’m wounded. Of no consequence? I recall every detail. I’ve relived the moment in my dreams many times.”
“Poppycock. Now you’re being ridiculous in the extreme. Before you left, the gossip sheets were full of your exploits with Sybila, and others. And you did a lot more than kiss them.”
“Careful, Becca.” He chuckled. “You almost sound jealous.”
“Jealous? Of Sybila Charmers. Rubbish.”
“Perhaps you’ll also admit to how you begged me to be your first lover as well as your first kiss,” he said in a soft, seductive murmur.
Heat spread through her body at the image her mind conjured. Cayle’s long length, his tethered strength, entwined with her willing body, as they lay naked in her bed. It was beyond her to remain cool and calm when his words made her insides do crazy things. And it wasn’t just her stomach. Her whole body sprang to full alertness.
Breasts that she considered simply a part, often an inconvenient part, of her female anatomy swelled and tightened until she was sure Cayle couldn’t help but notice. She crossed her arms over her breasts as she tried to relieve this unfamiliar feeling by applying pressure.
But Cayle was a sensual and aroused male so her movement drew his attention straight to her bosom, his dark eyes fixing there. Warmth flooded her body as her nipples hardened and peaked until they pushed against her bodice. His gaze was admiring and knowing.
“Ah, so you’re not immune to thoughts of soon becoming my lover?”
“Your conceit knows no bounds if you imagine every woman you meet is ready to throw themselves at your feet.”
“Not every woman, Becca.” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he teased, “As I recall, you were always the exception to that rule. Although, even you succumbed to my charms in the end.”
Determined to hide how much his words and more his lusting looks affected her, she said, “You’re the one who blows hot and cold every second day. You made me so confused.”
“Unfortunately, sweetheart, so was I. But I now know what I want. I’m just not sure how to obtain it. And I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. Not when my whole future is at stake. And yours.”
“You’re talking in riddles again. Until you decide what you really want, I think we shall just remain old friends. Right now, we need to deal with things of more importance.”
His long finger stroked across her chest, slightly above the low neckline of her dress and again her breath hitched and her nipples pained.
“Sweetheart, what could be more important than exploring what’s between us?”
“Don’t call me sweetheart when we’re alone. That’s only for show when there are others around. And I just told you, there’s nothing between us.”
“Nothing. Then prove it. Kiss me, Becca. Kiss me with the same passion you did four years ago behind the stable.”
“Cayle, you’re doing it again. Talking in circles. And four years ago I was a naïve girl who thought your kisses meant something.”
“They did mean something. But other things got in the way.”
“You mean like being caught flagrante delicto with my cousin?” Cayle flinched.
• • •
The man he’d become wanted to yell out loud that he was tired of hearing that, tired of false accusations. Especially tired of Becca flinging the old lies in his face each time she attempted to retreat from him for some reason. This time, she was stirring a battle between them so he’d refrain from murdering lecherous Bennett and back away from their original agreement. However, he wouldn’t allow it, wouldn’t tolerate her retreat from him in a futile attempt to shield him. His clandestine skills acquired working for the British government ensured he was well able to protect himself. And her and the rest of her family. Becca would just have to accept that, with time running out for them, her stiff resolve must bow under his determination to remain her defender.
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, little one.”
“I’m not your little one. I’m not your anything. In your own words, we contracted an agreement of mutual benefit, nothing more.”
Cayle absorbed that, knowing she was correct in essence. In his stupidest moment, he’d indeed said that. Hell, if he couldn’t decide what was in his own mind, or his own heart, how could Becca be expected to. With his indecisive attitude, he’d baffled them both. But suddenly, inspiration struck.
“I’m willing to talk seriously, about business, in exchange for a kiss. A reward for being helpful to you, your family, and the women of your society. After all, you wouldn’t be so much closer to finding Peggy’s murderer without my contacts in every seedy sector of the city.”
“We’d have managed somehow.”
“And you wouldn’t have attended balls and soirees, where I’ve noticed you or your sisters disappear into a private part of the host’s house for a part of the evening.”
She opened her mouth to object but he quickly countered with, “In fact, by kissing me you’ll be supporting the notion amongst those watching us like hawks this evening that I’m indeed enamoured of you. And that you’re not a thief using this as an excuse to rob their safes and pillage their paperwork.”
“Hauling me outside the ballroom with as much finesse as an overbearing oaf — ”
“Goodness, dearest, you’re slipping. Just an overbearing oaf. What happened to me being an arrogant pig?”
“Oooh! You’re impossible. We can’t hold a serious conversation while you continue to poke fun at me.”
“I promise, one kiss and I’ll be serious.” When she wavered, he added, “And you can halt it any time you wish.”
Cayle nuzzled her hair, letting the warmth of his breath tickle her skin and incite those intriguing goose pimples over her neck. Becca glanced around for onlookers while he prayed she didn’t resist him. He needed to touch her, to reassure himself that what he’d discovered today was correct. That she fitted his arms to perfection. Becca alone made his heart race and his body heat with such a fierce hunger.
“What if someone observes us?” Taking her with him, Cayle stepped away from the light and pulled her behind a column.
“No one can see us here. One kiss in exchange for my undivided attention for the remainder of the night.”
“Do you promise?”
Driven by the insistent push of his desire, Cayle was prepared to promise her the moon if she�
��d only press up against him again. The urge to grab her roughly and haul her against him was hard to damp down, but though she may pretend to be experienced she wasn’t. His raging arousal would frighten her. The strategy he’d decided on was to tempt her, entice her, and lure her bit by bit into his arms. And hopefully, his bed.
The eventual prize was worth every bit of control he exercised. Having Becca in occasional rushed assignations wouldn’t be enough. He needed more. Four years ago, he’d been enchanted by her awakening sensuality but now he was overjoyed by the passion that lurked underneath her rigid control. Good Lord, how he wanted to be the one to unleash it. The idea of some other clumsy, wet behind the ears, scoundrel touching her and unleashing all that energy filled him with a fury he hadn’t known he possessed. Looking at her tonight with her beauty and grace on display in a magnificent gown at a glittering ball, he knew she’d fill the role of his duchess to perfection.
He longed to strip that tantalising gown from her shoulders, to peel down her chemise and feast himself on the succulent lushness of her breasts. How he’d stopped himself from planting his fist in the face of at least five gentlemen tonight he didn’t know.
Being one of the male rogues himself for many years, he’d recognised their manoeuvres for what they were, simple leering fools. Lords who claimed to be gentlemen but who leaned in to peek down her décolletage. Who clasped her tighter than proper rules of behaviour allowed when they danced with her, just to feel her body brush theirs as they twirled her round and round. Becca seemed oblivious to them all and yet the night she’d come to his town house, she’d known and had accused him of doing the same thing.
Now, blame it on the moonlight, blame it on animal attraction between male and female. Blame it on any scientific explanation Becca would come up with but he could no longer help himself. Even a chaste kiss would be better than the aching hunger he suffered in his solitary bed each night, the burning in his body as fantasy after fantasy tormented him. Fantasies of the ways he’d claim Becca’s curvaceous body if he was free. Allowing her to become accustomed to the press of his hard arousal, he leaned in, meaning to hold to a leisurely pace and seduce her with his expertise. At the first soft touch of her lips under his, control shattered, and then deserted him. He shuddered with too long denied desire.
Suzi Love Page 21
