His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she felt it like a kiss. “Are you certain, my dear? It doesn’t feel too late to me.”
“It felt too late to me the moment you left for London,” she snapped, holding fast to her frustration, her anger. It was the only shield she had remaining, for her body was about to become limp and pliant and eager in his hands.
“I’m here now.” He caught her hand and pressed it to his chest, just above his thumping heart.
She tried to twist away from his grasp, but he refused to allow her retreat, holding her still.Thump, thump, thumpwent his heart. Such a visceral reminder that he was only a man, after all. “You’re here until you get whatever it is you’ve come for.”
He shook his head slowly. “I’ve already told you what I’m here for, my dear. I’ve come for you.”
The Lord must have had a laugh when he bestowed that beautiful face on such a rotter of a man, she thought. That face was inconstant. Untrustworthy. That face was faithless. Fathomless. She looked away, staring at the striped wallpaper. “You think me a fool, then. Is that it?” Her eyes flew back to him and she made another failed attempt to snatch back her hand. “Does it entertain you to win me and abandon me for a second time?”
He released her hand. “And yet you were just spouting of freedom and divorce, my lady. Tell me, which is it? Do you wish me here or do you wish to leave me?”
Her face flamed in embarrassment, for he was right. The truth of it was, she didn’t know what she wanted, not any longer. Not as her husband plied her with charm, holding her in his strong embrace. Not as his mouth lingered so near to hers. Not as every bit of her clamored for more. Her body responded to him now as it always had, and her weakness was a devil of a thing.
“I want a divorce,” she said softly. “I want to return to New York. You are unencumbered by me. Go back to London and your beautiful Signora.”
His mouth hardened. “I don’t want you in New York, damn it. I want you here where you belong.”
How did he dare to think that what he wanted was of any consequence to her? “I don’t belong here. I never did.”
“Tell me, what has changed? All this time, no one was holding you here against your will. You could have gone back to New York a dozen times by now, and yet you stayed. You redecorated the music room and tuned the piano. And here you are, in my arms.”
She didn’t want to think about the last five months, about how she’d agonized, torn between hurt and anger, duty and indifference, fear and indecision. Longing and resentment. “Someone needed to care for this place and these people.”
“It needn’t have been you, my lady, and yet you remained.” He held up his hands between them like a supplicant. “Even now, you could push away from me at any time. I’ll not stop you. Walk away.”
What a terrible, shameful shock to realize that it wasshewho held him now, one hand still above his steadily beating heart, the other on his shoulder. He’d drawn her into his web in true spider fashion.
She extricated herself as quickly as if he were made of flame, pushing him away from her. “Don’t you dare toy with me. Have you not already done enough? Are you not satisfied?”
“Walk away, Victoria.” His expression had grown hard. “Walk away before I do something we’ll both regret.”
The old bitterness cut through her. “It would merely be one more in a vast ocean of them. Go ahead. Do your worst.”
He caught her arms in a punishing grip, spun her around, and pressed her back to the wall of the music room. His mouth came down on hers, hungry and demanding.
He kissed her with the fury and tumult raging through him. Will was angry with himself, angry with her, angry at the position in which he found himself.Freedom is not claptrap, she’d said with her naïve American ideals. There was no freedom, not for either of them. There never would be. They were inescapably trapped by their union, by duty, the duke, society. Damn it all to hell. Damn everything and everyone but this.
Her.
His tongue sank into her mouth, tasting, claiming, seeking. He cupped her face, his fingers sinking back into the soft cloud of her hair. Too many pins, too many coils. He plucked the pins free, wanting to see her long, burnished curls by the light of day, hanging to her waist. He caught the fullness of her lower lip between his teeth, needing to consume her. She tasted of bergamot and honey.
She clutched at him, and he didn’t know if she intended to push him away or pull him closer, but she made no move to protest. She wanted him, even if her wounded pride wouldn’t allow her to admit it. Her hair had come unbound now, heavy waves spilling down her shoulders and back.
He broke the kiss and stared down into her upturned face. The green of her eyes was especially vivid, her lush mouth swollen.There.Proper progress. He tested the unruly skeins of her hair, letting it sift through his fingers. With his other hand, he caught her chin, swiping the pad of his thumb over her parted lips. The freckles on her nose beckoned. He kissed them and just barely refrained from licking them as though they were tiny specks of sugar on her skin.
Jesus, what was wrong with him? Was he depraved? He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this. He needn’t seduce her. All that was required of him was an heir. A quick coupling and a spend. But he couldn’t stop. Didn’t, in fact, want to stop. For now, he was kissing her neck, nibbling at the sensitive cords where her pulse told him she was every bit as affected as he.
Some darkness inside him made him long to rattle her. No, he bloody well was not going to stop until he had her precisely where he wanted her. She could only hold on to her anger for so long. He knew how to dismantle any woman’s defenses. No one was immune. Not even the wife-turned-temptress in his arms.
He sucked her earlobe, found the hollow behind her ear with his tongue and tasted violets. She moaned his title.Pembroke.A sigh. A spurring plea. He’d never been so aroused by the sound of his name on a woman’s tongue.
“Yes, darling,” he murmured against her skin as he gave her little nips and soothing kisses. He caught her lace and silk skirts, dragging them upward. His hand traveled from the curve of her knee to the tie of her stockings, then higher. “I warned you to walk away, but you didn’t. Now you have to pay the price.”
He licked behind her ear again, the spot that was driving her mad, just as he nudged her thighs apart and found the slit of her drawers. Hot, slick flesh welcomed him in. He circled her pearl and worked the engorged nub gently at first and then with increasing pressure as she pressed into him.
She cried out. He slid a finger inside her. Ah, Christ. She was hot and tight, and suddenly he couldn’t be deep enough, couldn’t have as much as he needed. He had to taste her. He sank to his knees, holding the flounces of her skirt to her waist. For a moment, he took in her petite ankles and well-shaped calves encased in silk, and then he saw only the erotic sight of his hand disappearing in the opening of her drawers. He teased a second finger inside, curving it to intensify her pleasure.
