Wick shook his head. “I’m not leaving you with this jealous fool—”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Richard’s deadly earnestness pierced Vi’s haze and gave her enough wherewithal to say, “Please go, Wick. I’ll be fine. I want to talk to Richard alone.”
“You’re sure?” Wick studied her.
She nodded, even though the action made her feel even more buffle-headed.
With a disgusted look at his brother, Wick strode out the gate.
Before Vi could speak, the universe spun crazily. Breathless, she found herself with her back against the stone wall. Richard’s hands were planted next to her shoulders, trapping her.
His eyes burned into her. “So has this all been a game to you?”
Game?“What on earth do you mean?”
“You’re just like the others. A damned flirt. A trollop.”
The burst of anger cleared her head. “Now wait just a deuced minute—”
“Hell, you’re even better than them. Better at lying. Better at duping men, seducing them.”
“Whatareyou talking about? Better than whom?” She was confused—by his anger and her own. And by her throbbing awareness of him, of his large form caging her against the wall. “You can’t possibly mean that Wick and I—”
“He was going to kiss you,” Richard thundered. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Don’t be silly. I wasn’t feeling well…”—she wetted her lips at the flare of his nostrils—“it might have been that cider Wick gave me. It tasted a bit off. Anyway, Wick was just concerned. As any friend would be.”
“Aye, I know howfriendlyyou can get, so don’t take me for a fool. You’re not ill—you’re bloody aroused. Iknowhow you look when you’re in the throes. Those flushed cheeks and parted lips, the come-hither heat in your eyes.”
His words seemed to tear away some internal blinders. All of a sudden, what she was feeling became clear, the sensations coalescing in a humming rush… ofneed.
Gadzooks. He’s… right?
“I d-don’t understand.” Why would she feel aroused aroundWick? She didn’t desire him.
Richard leaned closer, his expression ravaged. “Don’t you? I’d wager my estate that your nipples are hard right now. If I tossed up your skirts, your pussy would be wet and greedy, wouldn’t it?”
She stared at him, her breath puffing from her parted lips.Right again.
A savage light came into his eyes. He swore, and the next minute his mouth slammed onto hers. The kiss was hard and punishing, but she didn’t care because she wanted it. Wanted him. Her arousal blazed, incinerating everything else. Wild for him, she sucked on his tongue, licked inside his mouth, panting for more.
She felt her skirts being shoved up, warm air kissing her thighs. When he touched her pussy, they both groaned. She could feel how wet she was, how her flesh throbbed for his touch.
“Say this is for me, not Wick.” His eyes were hungry, tortured. “By God, say it, lass—”
He thrust his fingers into her, and she gasped as the orgasm hit her.
“My, my. This isquitethe performance, isn’t it?”
The female voice perforated Vi’s bliss. She twisted to see its source: Mrs. Sumner, standing inside the gate with Lord Wormleigh. Both were watching on with leering expressions.
Richard yanked down Vi’s skirts, took a hasty step back.
But it was too late. Mrs. Sumner and Wormleigh had exited, their excitement palpable.
Violet felt the weight of ruination crashing down.
