Wicked Pleasures

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Wicked Pleasures Page 27

by Helen Dickson


  Diana’s chin tilted upward and her eyes directed towards Adeline, their slanted gaze cold and without merriment. Her voice quivering with anger, she demanded, ‘How do you know about my business arrangement with Grant? Has he said anything?’

  Their gazes held, each reading the other’s expression. ‘No—he wouldn’t. But I have ears, Diana, and I’m not stupid. However, that’s not my concern. Lettie is. Despite her outward appearance she is still extremely fragile. I think any kind of confrontation would be a grave mistake. Please respect my wishes on this.’

  Diana’s eyes narrowed. ‘I may be many things, Adeline, but I am no tittle-tattle. I’ve had dealings of my own with Jack Cunningham, so I know exactly what he is capable of. I can assure you that should Lettie’s sordid little secret surface, I will not be the one responsible.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Please excuse me.’

  Adeline was glad to.

  The evening was drawing to a close when she saw Grant approach Diana and take her arm. The two left the room together. It was as if a dagger had been thrust into her heart. Christmas had changed. Diana had spoilt it.

  She got through the next hour as best she could, but it was hard to keep smiling. Deeply wounded, she thought she would never believe her own instincts again. She had been so sure that Grant was beginning to love her.

  Following her angry confrontation with Grant, after he had taken her to his study to speak to her, Diana left, realising she had underestimated Adeline Osborne. She had resolved herself to the fact that there was no hope for anything where Grant was concerned.

  Feeling the need to get out of the house, to be by herself, Adeline went to her room to don coat and boots and slipped out of the front door, unaware that Grant was watching her. The night was bitterly cold. It penetrated her clothes. Yet she was thankful for its sharpness, for it cleared her mind of the fog caused by the day’s over-indulgence.

  Wistfully she gazed towards the sickle moon and starlit sky as quietness invaded her mood. Pulling the collar of her coat over her ears, and leaving the house behind, she walked to a wooded area beyond the gardens. She took the opposite direction to the lake, since she did not want to be reminded of the tragic events. Unafraid of the silence and the eerie trunks of oak, beech and lime, she was glad to be alone.

  Somewhere an owl screeched, but apart from that silence gathered around her in that white winter world. She allowed her captivated senses to propel her further into the trees. Suddenly, seeing a slight movement ahead, she paused, her senses alert. Her eyes widened with surprise and pleasure on seeing a vixen, lithe and velvet-footed, totally unaware of her presence. Her lips parted in a smile of delight on seeing two cubs rolling around close to their mother, yelping and snapping in play. Not wishing to frighten them away, without moving she watched, entranced. The sight held her enthralled, and she was bound in the spell of the moment.

  A moment later instinct told her that she was not alone. Someone had come to stand behind her. Her heart began to race, urging her to run away, but she couldn’t move. That was when the subtle scent of sandalwood assailed her nostrils and a powerful pair of arms slipped around her waist, drawing her back against a tall, long-limbed individual.

  Lowering his head, he whispered, ‘Be still. Do not make a sound unless you wish to frighten them away.’

  Adeline froze for an instant of time as the familiar voice scattered her thoughts. She had no need to see the man’s face to know who stood behind her. In that moment, when all her senses seemed to be heightened nearly beyond all endurance, she felt a frisson of recognition as deep and primeval as life itself. Hot breath smelling of brandy touched her skin as the warning was whispered against her ear, and she could feel a powerful heartbeat behind the hard muscle. Unable to struggle, unable to utter even the smallest sound, she was unaware that she was holding her breath. Her eyes were still locked on the fox and its cubs when the voice came again.

  ‘A rare, enchanting sight, is it not?’

  ‘It is indeed,’ she whispered.

  Adeline found herself wanting to turn and look at him, to surrender to the masculine strength of him and the hypnotic sound of his voice. The feel of his arms was electric. It flashed along her nerves like a powerful current. Her skin tingled and grew warm, and some dark and secret thing stirred inside her. It was as if the very essence of herself had been altered in the space of a heartbeat. Unable to struggle, unable to utter the smallest sound, all she could do was remain pressed against that powerful body.

  The anxious vixen watched her cubs, nudging them with her nose, and to the cubs her protection was pleasing. Then her instincts came to the fore. She stiffened and looked in their direction with bristling hair, her face distorted and malignant with menace. Sensing the threat of humans, her lips writhed back and her little fangs were bared. Passing her unease to the cubs, she drew them back, discomfited, and slid into the shadows.

  For all its intensity the moment had been brief. Grant released her and took a step back. Feeling weak, as if all the strength had been sucked from her body, Adeline turned slowly and faced him, her breasts measuring the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The moon was behind him so that its pale light fell upon her face, leaving his in dark silhouette.

  ‘Why have you followed me?’

  ‘Because I wanted to. Do you mind?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘I hope you are enjoying Christmas.’

  ‘Very much—although the events at the lake have cast a cloud over the festivities. What did you tell the police?’

  ‘The truth—that Cunningham came here to kill me because I had informed on him. Naturally I made no mention of Lettie. They will liaise with the police in London, which will confirm what I told them.’ His expression softened. ‘I’m glad you came, Adeline.’

  ‘And I’m happy to have been asked. I am grateful that you have welcomed us so generously at what was intended as a family reunion. It has gone so quickly.’

  ‘It isn’t over yet.’

  ‘Almost,’ she said.

  ‘No, it isn’t. You have Boxing Day to get through.’

  Was she imagining it or was there a hidden meaning to his words? Moving away from him, Adeline looked back to where she had seen the vixen, wishing she could see it once more. But she knew it would not return. With a rueful sigh she lowered her head. ‘It’s cold. We should go back.’

  Placing his hands on her arms, Grant turned her to face him. ‘Adeline, wait. There is something I must ask you. You have been here for days, and yet we have had little chance to speak privately. Why did you run away from me in London?’

  She took a deep breath. At last he had raised the subject that had been on their minds since she had come to Oaklands. ‘Why didn’t you write?’

  ‘Because what I had to say to you I wanted to say in person. So, why did you leave without saying goodbye?’

  ‘You know why, Grant.’

  ‘You deserted me.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘That’s how it felt to me. Why did you let me make love to you?’

  ‘I suppose when emotions are running high people do mad things.’

  ‘And are your emotions running high now?’

  ‘When I’m with you my emotions are always running high—in fact they’re all over the place, even though I firmly try to suppress them. You ask why I let you make love to me.’ Her lips curved in a slow smile. ‘I ignored all my instincts. I went with you to your hotel without reservation. And then I saw you with Diana. It almost destroyed me. I’m not going to put myself through anything like that again.’

  ‘But you want me. You can’t deny that.’

  Even in the gloom Adeline could see his eyes sparkle. ‘I’m human. You’ve proved that. Why didn’t you tell me Diana was coming tonight?’

  ‘It was a surprise to me. She was not invited, Adeline. I would not be so insensitive as to do that to you. After the initial shock of seeing her I tried to pl
ay the perfect host. She clearly misunderstood something I said when I saw her briefly in London on my return from France—I had to see her to discuss the Waverley estate, and she interpreted it as an invitation.’ He grinned. ‘Mother was none too pleased to see her, but she coped wonderfully. Nothing ruffles her.’

  Adeline understood then just how madly possessive Diana was over Grant, and that he did not love her in return. ‘Did you tell her about Jack?’

  He nodded. ‘I saw no reason not to. She would have found out some time.’ For a long moment Grant’s gaze lingered on the elegant perfection of Adeline’s glowing face, then settled on her entrancing dark eyes. As he had watched her earlier, mingling with his guests, he had wanted more than anything to thrust everyone out through the front door and snatch her into his arms to kiss that full, soft mouth until she was clinging to him, melting with desire.

  ‘Adeline, there is no Diana and me. There hasn’t been for over two years. She wanted commitment. I didn’t. Six years ago I might have married her, but she chose to marry a title instead.’

  ‘But both times I was at your hotel she was there. You were—familiar together. What was I to think?’ She saw the twinkle in his eye, the twist of humour about his mouth.

  ‘I think you suffer from an over-active imagination, and because of it you have suffered a lot of unnecessary heartache. The first time you saw her she had arranged the meeting to ask me for a loan. I refused. The second time she came to thank me for digging her out of her financial hole—and I only agreed to do so because of Jack Cunningham.’

  ‘You bought Westwood Hall, didn’t you?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I thought so. What will you do with it?’

  ‘When Diana has officially moved out I’ll put the estate on the market. Cunningham gave Diana a hard time when he realised what she’d done—turning her back on his offer and selling to me instead. She’s now decided to marry Paul.’

  Adeline was astounded. ‘She has? But earlier I thought she hoped…’

  ‘That I would marry her? Never. I had a private word with her before she left and made her realise there can never be anything between us. She put off giving Paul his answer until she knew there was no hope for us.’

  ‘Paul’s a wealthy man, so she will not be disappointed in that, but I doubt they will be happy together.’

  ‘So do I.’ Lifting his hands and pulling her collar up over her ears, Grant looked down into her face. ‘Not as happy as you and me. I love you, Adeline Osborne, and I am going to marry you. I have loved you from the morning I awoke and found you next to me. You were naked and beautiful, and your hair was spread about us both. We have been lovers ever since—we must look on that night as a gift from fate. When you left me so suddenly in London it tortured me. When I was in France I thought of you all the time. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t sleep. My mind was so full of you and you were so deep in my heart it hurt. I’d like this to be our new beginning. You will marry me?’

  He spoke in that low, husky voice that was half-whisper, half-seductive caress. Adeline remained silent, too afraid to speak at first. She could scarcely believe this was happening. Tilting her head, she looked deep into those sober silver-grey eyes, so gentle, so full of love. His expression was serious. She could feel the power he exuded, but she sensed his ruthlessness, too—a man would have to be ruthless to achieve what he had achieved through life.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, yes, Grant. I will marry you. I shall be proud to marry you.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I didn’t want a repeat of my first proposal of marriage, when you gave a definite no. And thank you for your gift,’ he murmured. ‘It’s perfect. I have a gift for you—a surprise, which I shall give you tomorrow. But for now…’ He took something out of his pocket.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Mistletoe.’ His lips curved in a provocative smile. ‘You know what that means.’

  ‘I have a very good idea.’ She glanced at the sprig he was holding just above her head and smiled teasingly. ‘I see there are plenty of berries on it.’

  ‘Naturally. When I came after you I had an ulterior motive, so I made quite sure of that. Mistletoe is a licence for intimacy—and in pagan times it was connected to fertility.’

  ‘Really?’ she whispered, arching her brows, pretending ignorance.

  He nodded. ‘And did you know that each mistletoe berry represents a kiss?’

  ‘It does?’ She saw a purposeful gleam in those heavy-lidded eyes.

  ‘Every time a visitor to the house is kissed, one of the white berries should be removed. When all the berries have gone, the kissing has to stop—which is why I chose a sprig with plenty of berries on it.’

  ‘Well, it looks as though we’ve a lot of kissing to get through. So we’d best get on with it before we both freeze to death.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  Before taking her in his arms, Grant pushed the stem of mistletoe into her thick hair. Despite the cold his lips were warm when they covered hers, touching her mouth with an exquisite gentleness that stunned her into stillness. They caressed, lazily coaxing, hungry and searching, fitting her lips to his own, and then his kiss deepened and he kissed her endlessly, as if he had all the time in the world.

  Of their own volition Adeline’s fingers curved around his neck, sliding into the soft, thick hair at his nape, feeling a pleasure and an astonished joy that was almost past bearing. She pressed herself against him, answering his passion with the same wild, exquisitely provocative ardour that had haunted her dreams since she had left him in London. The arms around her tightened, moulding her body to his, and she clung to him as ivy clings to a tree, and the strength in that hard, lean body gave her strength, gave promise of more pleasure.

  Dragging his lips from hers, Grant looked at her upturned face. His eyes glowed. ‘Well, I suppose that’s one berry gone.’

  ‘No—leave it. I don’t want the kissing to stop. Not ever.’

  Touching her cheek with his fingertips, and then wrapping his long fingers around her chin, he tilted her head back, his eyes smiling into hers. ‘Anything to oblige.’

  Again his mouth covered hers. And so it went on. And the sprig of mistletoe kept its berries.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following morning at eight o’clock they met at the stables, as arranged the night before. The weather had turned warmer overnight. A thaw had set in and the snow was melting fast.

  Grant watched Adeline walk towards him, a look of unconcealed appreciation on his handsome face as he surveyed her, warmly clad in a dark green velvet habit.

  ‘How can anyone look so lovely at this time in a morning?’ he commented warmly.

  With grooms going about their chores, Adeline suppressed the urge to fling herself into the arms of her handsome lover and gave him a brilliant smile instead. But she slanted a scowl of disapproval at the horse she was to ride when she saw the groom about to place a side-saddle on its back. ‘Oh, no. Not that.’

  Grant quirked a brow. ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ The reason was plain enough when she raised her skirt to reveal her breeches.

  Grant gave a shout of laughter. ‘Adeline Osborne, you are outrageous.’

  Tossing her head, she gave him an impish smile. ‘I like being outrageous. In which direction shall we ride?’ she asked when they were mounted, having got her way with the saddle.

  ‘Through the park in the direction of the village, I think.’

  Curious, she asked, ‘Why the village?’

  For some reason that question seemed to amuse him as he gathered his reins and they rode out of the stableyard. Seeing her worried look, he said casually, ‘I have an appointment with the vicar at nine o’clock. Our meeting won’t take long. It will give the horses a chance to rest awhile before riding back.’

  Urging their horses into a lunging gallop, they crouched low over their necks, thundering over the snow-covered turf with ground-devouring strides. They rode at full speed,
side by side, effortlessly leaping hedges in graceful unison. Approaching the village, they slowed their horses to a canter and rode in the direction of the church.

  Adeline was surprised to see several people standing in the porch. The closer they got, the more she recognised them all—her father and Mrs Leighton, Lettie and Roland. Drawing her delicate brows together, she cast Grant a bemused look.

  ‘How strange. What are they doing here? Who are they waiting for?’

  ‘Us.’

  Stopping outside the gate, Grant dismounted and asked her to do the same. Sliding from the saddle and into his arms, she looked at him.

  ‘Us? Is there something going on that I don’t know about, Grant?’ Her heart was beginning to beat with nervous anticipation. She looked towards the small group of people, all waiting expectantly—for what?

  ‘I promised you a surprise and this is it. Last night I asked you to be my wife. You said yes, so I thought there was no time like the present to get married.’

  ‘Oh!’ The gasp escaped her lips as she was roused from her shock. Her eyes flew to Grant, who could only smile lamely as he stared at her. ‘But how could you…? I mean—there hasn’t been time…’

  ‘I arranged it as soon as I got back to Oaklands.’

  She was incredulous. ‘But—that was ages ago.’

  ‘Three weeks, to be exact.’

  ‘You were so certain I would say yes? You assume too much, Grant!’ she declared, but softened and brushed a kiss on his lips as a thrill of excitement sped through her veins.

  A smile twisted his lips. ‘One way or another I was determined you would be my wife.’

  ‘Weren’t you afraid that I would leave?’

  ‘I would have followed you. You have my heart, Adeline. I love you more than I can ever love anyone again.’

  She placed her gloved hand tenderly against his cheek, and her look was one of adoration. ‘And I love you, Grant Leighton. More than you will ever know. But I cannot believe you have done this. And your mother—and Lettie—were they in on the deception, too?’

 

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