To Seduce a Bride

by Nicole Jordan

  Heath arched an eyebrow. “I never would have thought you were given to falsehoods, darling.”

  “I am being quite truthful, my lord. I did not enjoy kissing you. It made me too…disconcerted. Too flustered.”

  “You felt out of control, and you didn’t like it.”

  “Yes, exactly! I am gratified you understand.”

  “But I don’t understand. I am offering you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, and you turn me down out of hand.”

  Her chin rose at his teasing. “I am not the least interested in pleasure.”

  “I expect I can change your mind.”

  Lily locked her jaw mutinously. “Your arrogance is astounding, my lord.”

  The amusement leaving his expression, Heath regarded her with all seriousness. “There is nothing arrogant about it, Lily. It is merely simple logic. I want you, but I cannot have you without the benefit of marriage. I am not interested in an affair that would only result in scandal. So I intend to court you honorably.”

  “Without my consent?” she asked, her eyes flashing.

  “I hope to gain your consent. And I mean to start by kissing you again.”

  Looking alarmed, Lily pressed her palms against his chest. “I am not about to let you ravish me, Lord Claybourne!”

  His gaze dropped from her face to her breasts. He would like nothing more than to draw Lily down to her chaste bed and ravish her to their hearts’ content, but he was bound by the rules of honor.

  Heath smiled. “It is broad daylight and you are surrounded by a houseful of people. I believe you are safe from ravishment for the time being. But that doesn’t mean I won’t use all the powers of persuasion at my disposal.”

  His hands covered her shoulders, lightly massaging them as he locked gazes with her. Then bending, he covered her mouth with his in a slow, devastating, spellbinding kiss that sent searing heat arcing between them again.

  His sensual assault stunned Lily. She felt light-headed and dizzy; she couldn’t breathe.

  He was right, she thought with a feeling akin to desperation. The attraction between them was not a passing fancy. Nor could she blame her intoxication on champagne this time. His kisses still overwhelmed her senses even when she wasn’t foxed.

  Sweet shocks of reaction surged through her body, making her soften instinctively against him. As his lips moved over hers with exquisite pressure, she pushed harder against his chest, struggling for the will to resist, but he caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged with soft nips.

  When Lily responded with a little whimper, his tongue soothed the sensitive flesh before delving slowly, insistently, inside her mouth.

  Filled with a strangled pleasure, she gave a helpless moan. She couldn’t fight this hammering of her senses, couldn’t fight his heat and hardness. Finding him impossible to resist, she gave a tiny, shuddering sigh of defeat and returned his kiss helplessly.

  His mouth was magical…and so was his touch, Lily thought dazedly as his hand moved to caress her throat. While his kisses enchanted, his long fingers stroked the skin of her throat, gliding inexorably lower to the low, square neckline of her evening gown.

  She whimpered once more as he feathered the peaks of her breasts with the backs of his fingers. Her nipples instantly hardened beneath the delicate silk fabric, while her breasts felt heavy and swollen.

  And Claybourne was doing his best to increase her arousal, his knuckles slowly gliding over the crests, making Lily gasp at the sparks that shot through her. Then boldly, he brought both hands to her bodice, molding the contours of her breasts, making her knees go weak. Fire radiated from his hands and bloomed between her thighs, shocking her.

  Lily closed her eyes against the undeniable pleasure. It was maddening the way he drew out each brazen caress, yet she didn’t want him to stop. His touch was so tender, so wicked…so right. The sensations left her shaking inside, kindling a heavy ache deep in her lower body….

  It was some time before she realized that he had left off kissing her, although he was still cupping the ripe swells of her breasts.

  “Don’t you see?” Heath asked, his voice husky and low. “Whatever this is between us, it deserves exploring.”

  Dazed, Lily opened her eyes. Yes, she saw. She was aching with nameless longing…aching for him. She couldn’t deny it, couldn’t hide it.

  But the emotional turmoil inside her was even stronger. She didn’t want to want him. She couldn’t bear to risk subjugating herself to a man’s domination for a fleeting taste of passion, no matter how delicious it promised to be.

  Giving a frustrated groan, Lily slid out from Lord Claybourne’s embrace and backed away from him. When he took a step toward her, she held up her hands defensively and retreated farther across the small bedchamber, putting as much space as possible between them.

  Claybourne stopped then, regarding her intently.

  With shaking fingers, Lily tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and swallowed hard. Yet her voice was still a hoarse rasp when she finally spoke. “You are mistaken if you think I will meekly surrender just because you are a splendid kisser.”

  “I think nothing of the kind,” he said, his tone wry. “You haven’t a meek bone in your lovely body, I’ll warrant.”

  “No, and I will never accept your proposal of marriage, either,” Lily said firmly.

  The smile he gave her was utterly beautiful and utterly maddening. “We shall see.”

  Lily started to reply but gave a start when a sharp rap sounded on her bedchamber door. Then she froze as Fleur pushed open the door and swept into the room.

  The courtesan took one look at Lily’s flushed face and passion-bruised lips and turned to regard the marquess with a baleful eye. “I trust you mean to explain yourself, my lord. Miss Loring is under our protection, and we will not stand for you seducing her!”

  Chapter Four

  I must be mad to have agreed to his courtship, but the potential benefit to our boarders outweighs the risk to me…or so I sincerely hope.

  —Lily to Fanny

  Lily was vastly relieved for the interruption, but Lord Claybourne did not look chagrined in the least by Fleur’s irate accusation.

  Instead, he gave the courtesan a graceful bow. “How delightful to see you again, Miss Delee. Pray accept my apologies for alarming you, but I did not come here to seduce Miss Loring.”

  “No?” Fleur asked with marginally less rancor. “Then what does bring you here, my lord? Fanny would never forgive me if I allowed anything untoward to befall Miss Loring while she is dwelling under this roof.”

  “I assure you my intentions toward her are entirely honorable. I wish to court her.”

  Fleur blinked in surprise. “You want to court her? So you can wed her?”

  Claybourne glanced at Lily, his eyes assessing her with a tinge of knowing mirth. “Well…perhaps ‘wed’ is premature, since she professes to be so set against marriage, but I hope for the opportunity to determine if we might make a good match.”

  “My heavens,” Fleur said with a mix of wonderment and delight. “That does change things, my lord.”

  “I thought it might,” he murmured under his breath, so low that only Lily heard him. To Fleur, he said aloud, “I would like to solicit your assistance, if I may. Miss Loring insists on eluding my attempts even to speak to her, but if you would be so kind, you could convince her to at least entertain the idea of my suit.”

  In disbelief, Lily stared at the marquess. The nerve of him, using her friends against her.

  Fleur, on the other hand, gave him a fond smile. “Yes, indeed, Lord Claybourne. I would be pleased to help. Shall we repair to my sitting room to discuss the matter?”

  “Fleur,” Lily said in exasperation as the elder woman turned to leave the bedchamber. “There is nothing to discuss.”

  “Certainly there is, darling. I mean to satisfy my curiosity if nothing else.”

  Lily’s continued protests fell on deaf ears. Thus, when the marques
s accompanied Fleur from the room and down the corridor, Lily trailed after them, not trusting what he might say behind her back.

  Fleur chatted graciously with him as she led him down a flight of stairs to the elegant second-floor sitting room she and Chantel claimed for their own. Chantel was lounging on a settee, reading a volume of poetry, but she perked up when she spied their caller. It was rare these days that she received visitors, especially a nobleman so handsome and distinguished as Lord Claybourne.

  Chantel flushed becomingly when he bent over her hand to kiss her fingers lightly, but her blue eyes widened when Fleur repeated what he’d told her about wishing to begin a courtship.

  “You are a sly puss,” Chantel chided Lily. “You never told us you have a noble suitor.”

  “Because it isn’t true,” she insisted.

  “But I hope to make it true,” Claybourne said mildly.

  “So your intentions are genuinely honorable, my lord?” Fleur asked.

  “Completely.”

  “Then do please sit down and tell us why you might wish to wed Lily.”

  He didn’t take the seat he was offered, however, since Lily resolutely remained standing. But he did explain some of his motivation.

  “To begin with, I have never met anyone quite like Miss Loring. I last saw her a full month ago but I couldn’t forget her.”

  To her chagrin, Lily found herself flushing. She had not been able to forget Lord Claybourne either, but she hoped he wouldn’t divulge the reason—because he was her first romantic tryst.

  Fortunately Fleur spoke before he could expound. “Even so, marriage is a serious step, my lord.”

  “Indeed,” he murmured, his tone wry. “The avowed bachelor in me is trembling. But since my good friend Danvers recently wed Miss Loring’s eldest sister, I’m willing to view the marriage noose with more favor. And of course I will need heirs eventually. But the chief reason I am interested in her is that I think we might make a good match.”

  Lily grimaced, not caring for the way they were discussing her as if she wasn’t even present. It was time for her to put an end to this foolishness. “You are obviously lacking in discernment, Lord Claybourne. I would make you an utterly unsuitable wife.”

  He shifted his gaze to her. “How so?”

  “There are numerous reasons. I am highly independent, for one thing.”

  “But that is a point in your favor, since I dislike limpets. I don’t want a wife who would forever be clinging to me.”

  She gave him a dulcet smile. “I daresay I would be just the opposite. I have a mind and a will of my own. And I have no intention of calling any man ‘lord and master.’”

  “Nor would I expect you to. As my wife, you would be free to do as you please.”

  Lily raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Anything I please?”

  His own half smile was slow, direct. “Anything within reason.”

  “But it is your definition of reason that counts.”

  “I imagine we could set mutually agreed-upon limits to your behavior.”

  “I doubt it,” she rejoined. “I don’t conform well to the dictates of society.”

  “So you have told me.”

  She couldn’t help but note the teasing glint in Claybourne’s eyes, which miffed her further. “Did I also tell you that I am something of a bluestocking? My sister Roslyn is the scholar in our family, but I like to study history and geography.”

  “I can appreciate a well-informed intellect,” he replied, unperturbed.

  Realizing she was unlikely to ever win this argument as long as Claybourne was pretending such forbearance, Lily shook her head. “It scarcely matters what you appreciate. I am not at leisure to entertain your suit. I am quite busy teaching our boarders.”

  “I won’t interfere with your efforts.”

  “No? I find that hard to believe.”

  “As you said, it is for a worthy cause.”

  Her smile turned cool. “Then you understand why I have no time to indulge your eccentric whims.”

  He looked perfectly solemn except for the devils dancing in his eyes. “It is hardly eccentric for a gentleman to decide to take a wife.”

  “In your case it is. You are the greatest Lothario in England.”

  The marquess gave a mock wince of pain. “Your accusation is rather harsh, sweeting. I am no libertine, even though I like women exceedingly.”

  “You won’t like me.”

  “You are gravely mistaken if you think that.”

  “I am nothing like your usual conquests.”

  “Quite true. You are more thorn than rose.”

  “Precisely. And I am certain you will find my tart tongue uncomfortable. I tend to speak my mind.”

  “Good. I can’t endure simpering, vacuous women.” Claybourne paused a moment, holding her gaze. “But in your eagerness to list your drawbacks, Miss Loring, you are forgetting one chief advantage you hold over every other potential candidate for my bride.”

  “Oh. What is that?”

  “My attraction to you. I find you lovely and fascinating.”

  Lily raised her gaze to the ceiling, and yet some small feminine part of her was foolishly pleased by his compliment.

  Vexed by the very thought, she exhaled in a huff of exasperation. “Regardless…this entire discussion is meaningless, my lord. The simple truth is, I do not wish to marry you.”

  “How do you know unless you put the issue to a true test?”

  Chantel interrupted their exchange at that juncture. “Yes, Lily, darling, just consider. You would be a marchioness!”

  Lily softened her reply to the kindhearted older woman. “I know, Chantel, but a title is of little importance to me. I care nothing for his lordship’s rank and consequence.”

  The marquess responded with a rough chuckle. “Actually I find that reassuring. If you wed me, it will be because you want me, not my title or my fortune.”

  Fleur entered the dispute then. “Lily, his lordship could be the ideal husband for you.”

  Lily turned to eye her in dismay. “You mean to take his side?”

  “Not entirely. But I do believe you may be well-matched. Lord Claybourne is a man of passion and daring, very much like you. And I think you should allow his courtship for a time.”

  “Yes,” Chantel seconded her. “There are tremendous advantages to becoming Lady Claybourne, Lily. We can see it, even if you cannot at this stage in your life.”

  “But Chantel, I have no desire for a title.”

  “I am not merely talking about the title. A woman needs someone to protect and care for her. When you come to be our age, you will be glad to have a husband and family. Surely you don’t want to end up poor and lonely in your later years as we have?”

  Lily bit back her instinctive retort. She knew the two Cyprians worried deeply about financial security, but she hadn’t had any notion they were lonely. Even so, their circumstances were very different from her own. She had her sisters and close friends to ward off loneliness, and a modest fortune to insure she wouldn’t have to sell herself in order to survive, either in marriage or out of it.

  “Lily,” Fleur remarked in a cajoling tone, “even if you don’t wish to wed his lordship now, you should give his courtship a chance. It is not every day that you find so alluring a suitor.” She sent the marquess a coy look from beneath her eyelashes. “So handsome. So charming. So masterful.”

  “Yes,” Chantel said dreamily. “I could die for a man like that.”

  “I could kill for a man like that,” Fleur said with more frankness. “Trust me, Lily, there are countless women who yearn to be in your shoes. Just look at him. How can you resist such a marvelous courtier?”

  Lily found their observations totally exasperating, but she did look at Lord Claybourne. She couldn’t deny he had a commanding presence that was made even more compelling by his aura of virile, vital energy. Add to that his strikingly handsome features and effortless charm, and he became a lethal weapon against fe
minine hearts.

  She could easily see why the marquess was a great favorite with females of every stamp, and why adoring admirers flocked to him in droves. But his legendary achievements as a lover were a prime reason for her to avoid Lord Claybourne entirely. She most certainly didn’t want to be among the legions of lovelorn women who surrendered their hearts and bodies to him.

  Indeed, she should be wise enough by now to be inured to his admittedly undeniable appeal. So why did his mere nearness play havoc with her composure? Why did his slow smile make her pulse race and her stomach turn somersaults? Lily wondered as her eyes were drawn irresistibly back to his.

  The amused gleam she saw there in the hazel depths suggested he understood her deplorable attraction to him.

  Vexed, Lily swore a silent oath. That was the most damning reason to refuse his request to court her: She feared succumbing to Claybourne’s captivating allure. She had already proven how susceptible she was to his stunning kisses.

  When she remained stubbornly mute, Fleur addressed the marquess with a regretful sigh. “I am sorry, my lord, but I fear your quest might be hopeless. Lily is completely immune to masculine charm, even yours.”

  “I am not willing to give up just yet.”

  “There may be a way to solve this impasse, Fleur,” Chantel said slowly. “The game.”

  Fleur immediately brightened. “Do you think she would agree?”

  “We could try to convince her.”

  Lily’s exasperation welled up again. “Convince me of what?”

  Fleur regarded her with a measuring look. “We frequently played a game with our prospective patrons, back in the day when we had numerous gentlemen vying for our favors.”

  “It was great fun,” Chantel chimed in. “Our gentlemen would woo us for a specified time, usually a fortnight, while we rated their creativity and effectiveness as courtiers. Then the two winners were awarded our exclusive favors for the next quarter.”

  Fleur smiled as if recalling a fond memory. “The competition not only provided us a delightful diversion from boredom, it caused the gentlemen to strive harder to win us.”