More Than Willing

by Laura Landon

  Only a few paper lanterns lit the edges of the terrace, but they gave off enough light that she could see Gray’s expression turn even more furious.

  “What about love, Maggie?”

  “Love? I don’t remember love being mentioned.”

  She wanted to laugh. He actually looked shocked.

  “Surely you know I love you?”

  “How convenient to mention that small word now.”

  “If I remember correctly, I mentioned that small word the last time we saw each other – at the top of my lungs!”

  “Yes, in desperation because I was leaving you.”

  She actually thought he lost his balance for a second before he recovered. He stared at her as if he finally understood what she was saying.

  “You don’t believe I love you, do you?”

  The weight against her chest pressed harder. “Words come too easily to you, Gray. I watched the heartache my parents endured and they truly loved each other. I can’t imagine the hell we would put each other through if we don’t even have love to count on.”

  “You mean if you don’t have my love to count on.”

  “Yes.”

  Gray turned away from her and stared out into the Marchioness of Cavanaugh’s garden. She doubted he could see anything. The light from the lanterns wasn’t bright enough to illuminate anything beyond a few feet. But he clasped his hands behind his back and kept his eyes focused into the darkness as if he could. Just when she thought his silence meant he’d dismissed her, she heard him take a deep breath.

  “Very well,” he said as he turned toward her.

  He kept his hands locked behind him and rocked back and forth on his feet as if he were working out the final details of a plan.

  “Very well, what?”

  Maggie asked her question with a great deal of caution and even more dread. There was no way she’d believe he intended to give up so easily. The last thing he wanted was to be tied down to a brewery. She knew he’d undoubtedly do everything in his power to prevent it.

  “If you won’t take my word that I love you, then I’ll simply have to convince you.”

  “You can’t convince me, Gray.”

  “Can’t I?”

  She hated it when he answered her with a question. It always meant she had cause for concern.

  “No.” She turned away from him.

  “We’ll go back in together, Maggie,” he said, stopping her from going farther. “And we’ll dance the next dance together.”

  She turned to face him.

  “And every dance after that.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “Because no one who doesn’t want to invite gossip dances more than two dances with the same man.”

  “Who made up that silly rule?”

  “I don’t know!” She stomped her foot. “And stop asking me stupid questions. You know the rules as well as I.”

  “But I’m the one who always breaks them. You know that.”

  “Well, you’re not going to break this one.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  “No! Because I refuse to dance even one dance with you.”

  He paused and the look in his eyes turned amazingly serious. “Then I suggest you go inside and get your sisters and rush them home because I intend to make the sad announcement that your father has met with an unfortunate accident.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  The corners of his lips turned upward but it wasn’t a smile she saw on his face.

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  “Why?”

  “Because the workers refuse to celebrate the end of a successful brewing season until you return.” He took one step closer to her. “Because no one is capable of running the brewery as well as you.”

  He took another step, then another, until he was toe to toe with her. “Because being successful doesn’t mean anything if you’re not by my side to share in my failures as well as my successes.”

  He didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t. Those were probably words he’d practiced to lure her back to his bed as well as his brewery. But she wouldn’t fall victim to his sweet talk ever again.

  “I don’t want you, Gray.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Her eyes filled with wetness until his handsome figure swam in front of her. She couldn’t move. Yet, she couldn’t turn away from him either. Even when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, she was unable to stop him.

  He was going to kiss her. A whole chorus of voices chanted the warning to escape before it was too late but she didn’t heed their advice. How could she when she craved his touch more than a drowning man craves air?

  He lowered his head and his lips met hers.

  For a few futile seconds she fought the urge to give in to him. She made an effort to remain indifferent to his nearness. And for half that long she remained unaffected by his kisses.

  Then, as if a tidal wave of emotion washed over her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. She wanted to be a part of him, wanted to cherish and share with him as much of herself as she had to give.

  Their kiss lasted several heated minutes and when they separated, neither of them could breathe.

  Gray pulled her to him and she pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart thundered like the racing of a thousand teams of horses; his chest rose and fell as he gasped for air; his breath came out ragged and harsh as if he’d truly been moved by her kiss.

  But all of that was nothing compared to the aching desire that consumed every part of her.

  No, the chorus of voices shouted even louder than before. You don’t want him. You can’t.

  She pushed her open palms against his chest and stepped out of his arms.

  “Ah, Maggie, my love. You just don’t want to want me,” he whispered as if he’d read her thoughts.

  Her weakness where he was concerned terrified her. How was she ever going to protect herself against him?

  He took a step toward her and held out his arm for her. She placed her trembling hand atop the hard muscles of his arm and walked with him back into the ballroom to finish the waltz that was already in progress.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bloody hell but she was making this difficult for him.

  He handed his hat and gloves to the waiting footman then walked up the stairs and into the Duchess of Hardington’s ballroom. This was the seventh boring affair he’d attended in the three weeks since he’d come to London and he wasn’t any closer to convincing Maggie that he loved her than he had been that first night.

  Of course, it didn’t help that every friend and acquaintance he’d ever associated with in his wild and reckless days came up to him in her hearing to tell him how sorely he’d been missed at the gaming tables. A few of them had even insinuated that there were a few females, whose names they couldn’t mention, who would be extremely happy to hear he was back in Town.

  He’d made a supreme effort to convince her that every questionable comment was a ploy to embarrass him in front of her, but she didn’t buy his lies for a minute.

  Why was it so damned difficult for her to believe him? Didn’t she know how much he’d changed? Didn’t she know how much he cared for her? It should be evident.

  He’d lured her into the garden at every ball they attended and had managed to kiss her in the moonlight. It hadn’t taken long for their shared passion to get out of control, and more than once their kisses had gone much further than either of them intended.

  He didn’t know about her, but trying to woo her was pure torture. At this rate, she was going to kill him before he convinced her that he loved her.

  Gray braced himself for another night of torture, then walked to the top of the stairs and stopped.

  He saw her immediately. It was as if everyone in the group where she stood waved at him to indicate she was among them. Even in the largest crush of guests, his gaze honed in o
n her without hesitation.

  And even more amusing, she seemed to know the exact moment he arrived. Just like now, it didn’t take her but a second to turn around and find him.

  Bloody hell, but she was a beauty.

  She wore emerald green again tonight. She’d worn it before and he remembered how stunning her rich auburn hair had looked against that color. Every shimmering strand of gold seemed to glisten beneath the glow of the chandeliers.

  And her eyes…

  Her dark ebony eyes locked with his and a wealth of pent-up emotion passed between them. How much longer did she expect him to continue like this? It didn’t help that he remembered what it had been like to have her in his arms. It was even worse that he could recall with agonizing clarity what it felt like to be inside her body. Bloody hell, but he wanted her.

  He’d never imagined he’d love someone as completely as he loved her. And if he couldn’t convince her soon he didn’t know what he’d do.

  He took the steps as leisurely as his body would let him and greeted his host and hostess with what he hoped was an adequate greeting. He was in such a hurry to reach her he hardly remembered what he said.

  The crowd parted as he walked toward her. They acted as if they anticipated his destination and were determined to make the way easier for him.

  Gray was thankful for their assistance.

  “Good evening, Miss Bradford,” he said, escorting her away from the crush of people and to a place where it was more secluded. “You look especially lovely tonight.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Delaney.”

  “And extremely happy. Do I dare ask the reason for such a smile on your face?”

  His Maggie smiled even brighter and her eyes glimmered when she looked over to the side of the room where her sister, Charlotte, stood with the Viscount Markinsdale and a group of friends. They were all admiring something on Charlotte’s finger.

  “Ah, I take it Markinsdale finally paid you that visit you were anticipating.”

  “Yes. He came to call this afternoon and asked for Charlotte’s hand. He truly loves her.”

  “How do you know?”

  Her gaze turned back to him. “Because he told me his plans for the future and how he intended to take care of her. He explained how ideally suited they were to each other, and all the goals they had for a life together. And, of course, he told me he loved her.”

  “You believed him?”

  “Of course I believed him. Just look at the way he looks at her. Is there any doubt?”

  He shrugged. “No, I’m just disappointed that you’d take Markinsdale’s word at face value, yet you know me so much more intimately, and still you won’t accept my vow of love.”

  Her cheeks turned a rosy hue as she darted her gaze from one side to the other to make sure no one was within listening distance.

  “You and I can hardly be compared to Charlotte and Markinsdale.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifted her chin in that defiant gesture he’d seen so often and he knew she had no intention of answering. If he didn’t occupy her attention he was afraid she’d walk away from him.

  “Perhaps you’d care to dance,” he said, extending his arm for her to take. “They’re playing a waltz.”

  She hesitated, then, as if she realized he probably wouldn’t take no for an answer, she placed her hand atop his sleeve and let him escort her to the dance floor.

  As he turned around to take her in his arms, Harley Pinkerman, Marquess of Chandling, ran into them.

  When the two muscular men hit, they collided with a thud that rocked Gray’s balance.

  Gray took hold of Maggie to make sure she was all right, then turned to the man who’d barged into them.

  “Delaney, is that you?” Chandling asked, righting himself. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man who worked out in the ring nearly every day.

  “Hello, Chandling.”

  Chandling slurred his words and must have stayed a little too long in the card room imbibing in the exquisite liquor for which the Duke of Hartington was known.

  “What are you doing here? On the hunt like the rest of us?”

  Chandling turned his lecherous gaze to Maggie, and Gray almost decked him on the spot.

  “I am escorting Miss Margaret Bradford to the dance floor. If you’ll excuse us.”

  “Any relation to the brewery Bradfords?”

  “Yes, Miss Bradford’s father is Baron Bradley.”

  “You’re a lucky man, Delaney,” Chandling said with a broad smile on his face. “Damn fine fine…” He stopped and shook his head. “Damn fine find. A brewford Braderey. I mean a relation of Baron Bradley.”

  Chandling’s mixed words came out as a garbled slur and Gray was pummeled by an acute wave of embarrassment. Six months ago this might have been him. Six months ago he would probably have been as inebriated as Chandling and have acted the same way.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Chandling. Miss Bradford has promised me this dance.”

  “Where have you been, old man. Don’t tell me you’ve actually been in the country like rumors said you were?”

  Gray felt Maggie’s hold on his arm tighten and when he lowered his gaze to her face he saw a look of fury he wanted to warn Chandling to avoid.

  “That must have been the longest six months of your life! I know how you hate the country. Bet you couldn’t wait to come back,” Chandling continued, oblivious to the fool he was making of himself.

  Gray felt a change in Maggie’s mood. Before, she’d simply ignored Chandling for the irritant he was. Now, the idiot had her full attention – and if the way the color had drained from her face was any indication, anything Chandling said next wouldn’t be something Gray wanted Maggie to hear.

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Gray started to say.

  “Just tell me you’re here to stay,” Chandling barreled on, “I haven’t had anyone decent to go gaming with since you left. No one can last even a whole night, let alone days at a time like we used to.”

  “Those times are in the past,” Gray said staunchly. “I’m afraid I have no desire to repeat my stupidity.”

  Gray said his words with as much disparagement as he could, but from the look on Maggie’s face, Chandling was the only one who thought Gray actually meant what he’d said.

  “You aren’t serious.” Chandling hesitated, then laughed again. “Of course you’re not. You’d never survive if you couldn’t gamble. You never could resist a game with high stakes.”

  “I’ve changed.”

  Chandling leaned forward. “What if I told you there’s a big game at Washington’s tonight?”

  “I’d say I’m not interested.”

  “Even if I told you everyone important will be there?”

  “Not even then. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

  Gray placed his hand at Maggie’s back and turned her to the dance floor.

  “I’ll excuse you tonight, Delaney. I can see you have other matters on your mind. But it won’t be long until you’re back. You enjoy the game too much to give it up for long.”

  Gray tried to get Maggie out of hearing but he was afraid the damage had already been done. He pulled her into his arms and twirled her around the dance floor. She was silent, not even uttering a comment about anything Chandling had said—which was totally unlike her.

  “Maggie, are you all right?”

  “Yes, fine.”

  “I see the crowd congratulating your sister hasn’t diminished,” he said, desperate to start a conversation that would draw her attention. “How soon do you anticipate the happy event taking place?”

  She hesitated a moment. “Within a year, perhaps,” she replied as if she realized he expected an answer. “Felicity and Charlotte have even mentioned sharing a ceremony.”

  “Really.” He looked down at her. She was unnaturally stiff in his arms and the rosy glow he’d seen when he first arrived was gone. Perhaps it was the yellow hue of the candles, but Gray knew it had more to do with t
heir run-in with Chandling.

  “Yes, now that they’re engaged, I can—”

  She stumbled and he tightened his hold on her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just—”

  Her knees seemed to give way beneath her.

  “Gray?”

  “I’ve got you, Maggie, my love.”

  They weren’t far from the open terrace doors and he placed his arm around her waist and swiftly moved her in that direction.

  “We’ll be outside in a minute.”

  Gray led her through the open doors and to a small cement bench on the far side of the terrace. He helped her sit, then sat beside her to keep her steady. “Are you ill?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just overly warm. Her grace didn’t open the doors and windows until the room was crowded, and it got terribly stuffy.”

  “Yes, it was warm inside. And I’m sure our conversation with Chandling didn’t help.”

  He felt her tense.

  “No, it didn’t,” she said, lifting her gaze. “I didn’t appreciate having your sordid past thrown in my face. It only reinforced what I already knew. I’ve told you over and over that I won’t allow you to ruin my life, yet you’ve done nothing but hound me to marry you every chance you get. Even though I’ve explained a hundred times that I have no intention of marrying you, you refuse to give up.”

  She was losing control and Gray was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of guilt. That’s exactly what he’d done. Maggie had been burdened by the terrible strain of keeping her father’s death a secret until she found suitable husbands for her sisters. Of having the brewery taken away from her. Of knowing she’d lose her family home when her father’s death was made public. While he had only compounded the strain she was under by forcing himself on her every chance he had.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Maggie!” her sisters both called out as they nearly ran across the terrace. Their two fiancés followed behind.

  “Are you all right?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She brushed Gray’s arm from around her and he realized she had no intention of telling her sisters she felt faint. He slid to the side of the bench and stood to give both Felicity and Charlotte room to crowd around Maggie.