Not since—him, all those years ago…
She prayed he’d not noticed her reaction. But when she tore her gaze from where her hand lay and looked up, his wicked smile proved he knew exactly how his nearness had affected her. He was far too experienced to be fooled—especially by her.
Holding his mocking stare, Sabine, with great effort, refrained from withdrawing her hand from his body. Instead, she ran her fingers slowly down over his stomach, watching in satisfaction as the muscles flexed beneath her trailing fingers. He snatched her hand away just as she reached the band of his trousers.
Marcus tightened his grip on her wrist. “No games. What is it you want? We both know it’s not my body. You had my heart, body and soul ten years ago and you tossed them aside as casually as a maid emptying a chamber pot.”
She did want him. Her response to the simple contact heightened her memories of being held by him. The glorious thrill of having his strong arms around her, her softness crushed against the hardness of his body-she remembered it all. She’d longed for his touch and longed for him for over ten years.
Sabine licked her lips. “I need your help.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “By God you’ve got some nerve. My help! After what you did, you want my help?”
“Don’t keep repeating yourself, I’m not stupid. Yes, your help.”
He let lose a string of curses and turning walked to where his discarded clothes lay, he pulled on his shirt, still muttering under his breath.
She felt her shoulders relax a smidgen once the wide expanse of delectable flesh was covered. It had unnerved her enough to be alone with Marcus for the first time since she’d broken his heart, without trying to dampen her physical response to his blatant masculinity as well.
“Please, Marcus. Won’t you take a seat? What would it cost you to listen to me?”
Cost? Sabine, the only woman he’d ever proposed to, was asking about cost. The last time he’d listened to her sweet, honeycomb voice and the soft endearments and promises to love him forever, he’d been screwed over.
It had cost him his heart; cost him everything, in fact.
Fury engulfed him.
He advanced toward her composed, luscious figure, displayed to perfection in her strategically draped gown, with slow, determined strides. Standing directly before her he let his eyes roam over every inch of her. Her quick indrawn breath did not escape his notice. She wasn’t quite as calm as she appeared.
Good.
He stood regarding her for a moment, letting her unease grow. She licked her lips, while heat pooled in his groin. His gaze then dropped to her slightly opened mouth. The sweetness of her lips drew him and he leaned toward her, lowering his head until his warm breath was close enough to mingle with hers. His injured male pride was alleviated as he saw her sway toward him. She wanted him to kiss her!
Abruptly, he drew back and moved to take one of the empty chairs by the fire. Sitting, he shifted uneasily in his seat and crossed his legs, silently cursing the hot blood that stirred in his loins. For the first time ever, he wished to disown his fierce arousal. He urgently needed to exercise more control.
He’d not been prepared for her response to his nearness and it had almost been his undoing. Being alone with Sabine, in a bedchamber, was having a profound effect on his body. Worse, the blank daze of desire swirling in her beautiful sky blue eyes, in anticipation of his kiss, sent a shock of raw need through his every extremity.
He refused to look at her until she took the chair next to his. He needed the time to compose himself. She too looked as if she was struggling to compose herself. . Her face held a pink flush, as if they’d just made love. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to see Sabine in the throes of passion. He’d never had the privilege of having her beneath him and, by God, he wanted it almost as much as the air he breathed.
She thankfully interrupted his raging carnal thoughts.
“I know you have no reason to help me…” she paused briefly and continued “after what I did to you, but I’m hoping you won’t hold that against my Father. He greatly admired you, you know.”
Marcus tried to concentrate on her words as he sat, utterly fascinated. Sabine was everything he remembered and more. Her hair was still as fair as dried wheat in the heat of summer. The tight coil was softened by a few soft wispy tresses that flowed over her bare shoulders. His gaze wandered to her bosom. Her breasts seemed fuller and more womanly than those of the young girl he remembered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to pull her into his lap and bury his face between their plump splendor, to slip his tongue into the valley between her breasts and stroke across her nipples…
He shook his head to clear away the tempting images. He’d never known her in that way. A few kisses were all he’d allowed himself. What a fool he’d been. He castigated himself furiously. Why did she still have the power to make him want her so much? Was it simply because he’d been denied the delights of her inviting body?
“Are you listening to me?” A flush crept up her neck as she noted where his gaze was lingering. He refocused his attention with a start.
“Your father was a fine man, as were your brothers. How they must have turned in their graves over the way you treated me.”
The flush fled her features and her face became deathly pale. “You’re right. I’m sure my brothers would have ensured my life turned out quite differently, but I cannot change the past.” Her eyes seemed to blur. “No matter how much I want to.” she whispered.
“Humph! Change the past? It seems to have worked out very well for you, Lady Orsini.”
Her soft voice held a wistful note. “Appearances can be deceptive.”
“I know. You taught me that lesson very well.”
She stiffened in her seat, upright like an alabaster statue, unable to meet his gaze.
They sat in silence, the only sound the crackle of the fire.
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for hurting you.” Her voice shook, and her eyes when they met his were full of unshed tears. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“Only if what you state is true.”
She nodded, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.
Marcus exhaled in a rush. “Why? For god’s sake, why? You owe me that at least.”
She bit her lip so hard he thought she’d make it bleed. Finally she shrugged, as if in defeat. “I was young and stupid and I made a mistake. A mistake life has severely punished me for. You don’t need to heap any more upon me.”
Need, no. Want, yes. Or did he? Sabine appeared to be genuine in her remorse. But then again, he’d thought her genuine in her feelings for him in the past.
“What is it you want from me? Where you are concerned, I have little to give.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for my father and mother. I want you to enter and win a card game—the card game.”
Marcus found it difficult to control his surprised reaction. . This was the last thing he’d expected. “You need money?”
“No, not at all. What I want of you is to enter and then win the Gentleman’s Annual Whist Tournament that begins in three days’ time.”
Now he was interested. . He did not have a name as the most skilful of players. Did she in fact want to see him lose? He remained silent, his steely gaze fixed unwaveringly on her face. She licked her lips and yet again his balls tightened. God, how could he still want her so badly? His mind pictured all the things those luscious lips could do to pleasure him.
She continued. “You have never entered this tournament before and therefore will be an unknown.”
Marcus felt his shoulders bunch and ripple. “You want me to win the tournament? Why?”
“I mean to destroy the man who ruined my father. His actions lead directly to the deaths of my parents. Women cannot enter this tournament. Therefore, I need your assistance. As well, I need you to give me that element of unknown in my quest to trounce my enemy. I wish to entice a certain gentleman into betting against you. I
will lure him to bet on the favorite, Lord Prendergast. He’s won the tournament for the last five years. When you win, this said gentleman will have lost everything.”
“I have always considered you devious after what happened but this…. I’m truly lost for words. Not very honorable is an understatement but, really, I shouldn’t be so surprised.”
She took a deep breath. Her eyes glinted with anger and he saw her hands were shaking; her fury was glaringly obvious. They sat staring at each other for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, merely minutes.
As he expected, she gave in. “This man is using my father’s money to stake his bets. He is using blood money to try and make a fortune. I won’t allow it to happen. It is pure and simple revenge. He left my parents to die in abject poverty….”
Marcus watched her closely. Her face was deathly pale and it was clear she was not lying.
“Why did your father not ask for help?”
“He thought the law would help him. He also thought he could deal with this man himself. He was sorely mistaken. I don’t intend to make that mistake. By using you, by you putting up your stake for the game, this man will have no idea I am behind his impending demise. For who would believe you’d ever help me?”
His conscience then came knocking loud and clear. He remembered her father’s letters. Had they been a cry for help? Guilt made him ask, “Who was the man?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you involved. I simply want you to win the game.”
His mouth firmed but her chin took on a stubborn tilt. She would not tell him. Well, he would not push at this moment, but he would learn his name.
He let out a harsh laugh. “And what happens when I win?”
“You’ll win a very large sum of money, plus I’ll give you a bonus of one-hundred thousand pounds. I’m a very wealthy woman and money is no object.” she said in a haughty voice.
The bloody nerve of the woman—money! She thought money interested him! He had more money than he knew what to do with. Making sound investments was an innate talent of his and he’d more than prospered over the years. He managed his friends, Harlow’s and Henry’s, finances, as well as his own.
No. Winning more money did not excite him. He knew exactly what would excite him. He wanted her, in every which way a man could take a woman, until he’d had his fill.
God damn her to hell! He shouldn’t want her like this. He blamed her for re-entering his life unbidden, and his anger at how alluring she still was, grew until he felt white-hot fury that she still had the power to make him feel so much.
His eyes drank her in thirstily. Sabine was no longer the innocent girl he’d fallen in love with, if indeed she ever had been innocent. He wanted her with a man’s relentless desire. Ten years ago his desire for her was mixed with tenderness. Now, he simply wanted her with a raw, naked hunger. How much he wanted her, frightened him and rendered him vulnerable.
Agreeing to help her would be a mistake. Every honed instinct screamed for him to deny her and stand and leave. But part of him still wanted what had been ripped away from him all those years ago. He craved what she’d dangled before him so temptingly and then so callously cut away.
This time, he would make her fall in love with him and then he’d be the one to walk away.
“You’re obviously under some misconception that I care about money,” he finally proffered.
“Then, if not money, what is it that you do care about?” she queried in a manner that was faintly taunting.
“Pleasure—and then some more,” Marcus responded, , observing with satisfaction her horrified expression. “Come, don’t act so surprised. If you have taken the time to learn about me, then you must have learned of all my favorite pursuits.”
Involuntarily, she glanced at her hands and he saw her swallow nervously. “You are one of the most notorious rakehells in all of England. The minute I returned to England I could hardly avoid learning that.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “Perhaps I had a lucky escape.”
Calling on all his willpower, Marcus reined in his violent irritation at her provocative words. “I used to be exceedingly discriminating about the women I pursued. However, after you… after you taught me how ridiculous that sentiment was, I didn’t much care who I bedded. I simply buried my pain in pleasure.”
Her lack of response at his proclamation needled him further.
“Fucking, in another word. Actually, I have become rather good at it. I’m sure, given your lack of particularity about who shares your bed, that you’ve become quite the expert too.”
Some emotion flickered in her eyes in response, something vulnerable and too fleeting for him to identify. Then she lowered her eyelids as if to shield the secrets she hid within.
He leaned forward in his chair. “In fact, you can take the blame for turning me into, as you so succinctly put it, a notorious rakehell.”
Finally, a reaction! With her mouth turned down in sharp disapproval and her eyes dark with anger, she ferociously defended herself. “I’m sure you were already well on the path to depravity and wickedness before I met you. You certainly didn’t behave like a proper gentleman, especially with me.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You think what we did was wicked? Hop on that bed and I’ll show you the true definition of wicked!”
“I don’t think that will be necessary”
“And why not? Unless, of course, you still enjoy teasing the men in your life. Do you dangle your body temptingly like a piece of heaven before them and then watch them writhe in pain when you deprive them of the physical satisfaction you so falsely promised them?”
Chapter Three
Sabine hissed at him through clenched teeth, trying to protect herself from his cruel taunt. “That, I believe, is none of your concern.”
“That’s where you are wrong, siren. If you wish me to help you with your distasteful plan, then who you may be bedding is very much my concern. I won’t be cuckolded again.”
“I don’t understand? How can I have ever cuckolded you? We were never lovers, nor are we likely to be”- She gasped in sudden comprehension and a shudder ripped through her. “Oh, no! Absolutely not.”
He laughed, a rich sound that skittered down her spine, reminding her of a more pleasant time, long ago.
“Haven’t you ever thought about us and how it would have been in my bed? I’m considered quite the expert. I must admit”- he ran his eyes insolently over her until she felt as if she were naked under his gaze. “I’ve often fantasized about what I’d do to you—with you—if you were ever mine.”
“I haven’t thought of you much at all,” she retorted, praying he’d believe the lie. She’d thought about him almost every lonely day over the past ten years.
“Well, my lovely, if you want my help that is all about to change. I want you thinking about me every second of the day and night and me only, if you can manage that?”
Hearing his bitterness, Sabine stared down at the carpet. Tension constricted her throat. Marcus would never forgive her, that much was obvious. Her plan to avenge her father—as well as herself would fall apart without Marcus’s support.
Worse, she didn’t deserve his derision or his hatred. She’d suffered more than he knew. But if Marcus learned the truth, he’d be more than eager for revenge. That had been why she’d done what she’d had to do, all those years ago. She knew the revenge he’d then insist upon taking and that would put his very life in danger. She couldn’t live with the guilt should something happen to him.
“I’m not asking you to do this for me. I’m asking you to help me extract revenge for my father and mother.”
His face softened slightly at the mention of her parents. “Tell me what happened.”
“My father was a proud man. As he got older, his work began to dry up and he looked around for an investment which would keep them both in their old age. He was introduced to a man who had a sure fire investment.”
Marcus interrupted. “Le
t me guess, Gower suggested investing in Northern Mining.”
Blast! She hadn’t wished to reveal her target quite so soon. Reluctantly, she confirmed his guess. “Yes, yes.” She opened her palms wide, willing the tears not to come. “They lost everything. They died of malnutrition and disease in a poorhouse.” She held back a sob at the memory of the letter that had arrived too late in Milan. Her father had written telling her of their plight. By the time she’d returned to England, they were both dead. “I’ve done some investigating. Northern Mining was a paper company with no assets. Gower knew what he was doing, yet the law won’t touch him.”
Marcus nodded his head, understanding. “The men behind the investment were clever. It all looks legitimate on paper.” He looked grim. “You are proposing your own brand of punishment. You’ve learned of Gower’s weakness—gambling. I’ve heard he’s in dun territory.”
“Yes, I’ve learned a lot about Lord Gower. He is not a very good card player. He doesn’t ever enter the Gentleman’s Annual Whist Tournament but he wagers on the outcome. I believe he’s placed a very large bet on Lord Prendergast with the field. He’s positive the bet is a sure thing. The odds are in his favor, Prendergast has won the last five years.”
“Gower thinks he’ll clear his debts from this one tournament. Everyone at Whites has heard of his exorbitant wager.”
She lifted her gaze to Marcus, and as their eyes locked, the painful past was a chasm between them. “Will you help me?”
It was all the pleading she’d do. Pain lashed her at the cold expression on his handsome face. Having met with Marcus, even after ten years, Sabine realized that time had not mitigated the raw hurt of her necessary betrayal. She was mud under his boot.
“If you want my help, I have a wager of my own.”
The hairs on her arms rose and her stomach began to churn. What was coming could not be good.
He continued. “If I win, I want more than money. I want flesh and blood. If I help you obtain your revenge, then you must help me gain mine.”
To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (Wicked Wagers BK2-Regency Romance) Long Novella Page 2
