Sean stared back. Very carefully, he said, “We will fight again, however, because I cannot ever approve of what you are doing and the way you are ruthlessly using Virginia.”
“Don’t fall in love with her,” Devlin heard himself say.
Sean hesitated. “Perhaps it is too late.”
Devlin reeled, as if physically struck with shot.
“I am going to bed,” Sean said, putting out his cigar. He smiled a little, but it was forced, and walked out of the room.
A yawning silence came over the study. Devlin stared at his own cigar, burning in the porcelain ashtray. He was grim. Virginia had been nothing but a pawn in his game with Eastleigh until that night. Now he felt as if she had become a terrible viper in their midst.
But he could not change his course.
He covered his eyes briefly, pain stabbing in his forehead, then paced wildly, allowing the anger in, welcoming it. She had come perilously close to flirting with Sean tonight. She had encouraged his emotions. Her attentive behavior, her pretty laughter, her eager conversation had ensnared his brother thoroughly. She had become a problem, one he must quickly solve.
The sooner he was rid of her, the better. The better for everyone.
Suddenly Virginia materialized in the doorway. He stiffened. She didn’t smile, but said, low, “It’s a beautiful night. Would you walk with me, Devlin?”
“No.”
She jumped at the harsh sound of his voice.
“Come in,” he ground out, fully aware of what he must do to end any further dalliance between her and his brother. As she did, her eyes wide and wary, he walked swiftly past her and closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked cautiously.
“You are to stay away from Sean.”
“What?”she gasped.
He found himself gripping her shoulders. Now his anger had become infused into something entirely different and it was rearing up insistently, the blood there hot and red, pounding. “Let me repeat myself.Stay away from Sean.”
“Whatever you are thinking—you are wrong!” she cried, eyes wide.
“Am I? The last thing I need is my brother falling in love with you, Miss Hughes. Do I make myself clear?” He found his grip tightening. She whimpered, but it was too late, somehow his hands had a will of their own, pulling her up against his hard, aroused body.
“Devlin,” she whispered, the sound throaty with need.
Triumph surged within him.She would not think about his brother now.“Do you wish to know something, an interesting fact?” he asked harshly, palming her backside and holding her up against his arousal, where she began to squirm. “I don’t think it will be very difficult to make you forget all about Sean…darling.”
Her eyes were glazing over. She gripped his shoulders, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed. “I don’t want Sean,” she said hoarsely. “I want you.”
Inside his brain, coherence exploded. Devlin crushed her to his chest, taking her mouth, forcing it open. As his tongue swept deep, hers came forth to meet him. More explosions went off inside of his head. Then he felt her small hands sliding over his waist.
Desire thoroughly blinded him. “No, here,” he said, taking one of her hands and pushing it over the hard ridge that was his arousal. She gasped and he almost laughed, but the pain and the pressure was far too intense and he could not get a sound out. Choking, he forced her hand to slide down the length there, and when suddenly she closed her fingers around most of him, he pulled her down to the floor, moving on top of her, claiming her mouth yet again. And briefly, there was no more thought.
She clawed his shoulders and moaned; he kissed his way down her throat, pulled her bodice down, exposing both perfect breasts. And as he stared at one erect nipple, two images came to mind—Eastleigh, fat and gray, and Sean, dark and angry.
What was he doing?
He was so angry he couldn’t even think clearly, and this was so fast and furious it wasn’t even seduction—it wasn’t rape, but because of her and Sean, he was poised to take her, violently and brutally. He had sworn to return her to Eastleigh unharmed—but instead, he had lost all control.
She reached for his face, thrashing beneath him. “Hurry,” she begged.
He looked again at her erect nipple, at her small, plump breast, and desperately fought the increasing pressure in his loins, the red haze growing in his head, the frantic urgency. He was out of control. Stunned, he pulled her dress up, covering her breasts, and somehow stood.
What in hell had just happened?
