He turned his face toward the window. “Lanford invited me and I intended not to go, but changed my mind. When I arrived, I saw you.”
She gripped her hands in her lap at the dismissiveness of that statement. “And so you decided to humiliate me in front of a room full of strangers and probably neighbors, not to mention Mr. Lanford?”
He leaned forward and a shaft of moonlight hit his face, creating hard angles. “So worried about Lanford’s opinion, are you?”
“Why would you care?” she asked, and the fear she had felt so keenly earlier began to transform into something harsher. It turned to anger. “You made it clear in London that you have no interest in me. Why would it possibly matter if I valued the opinion of some other gentleman?”
“A gentleman.” He let out an ugly laugh. “It isn’tgentlemanlyto escort a lady to a place like that and then not closely take care of her well-being.”
“Ah, so the problem was not me going there, it was him not watching me like I was a petulant child.” She shook her head. “I have enough over-protection from my brother, Sebastian, I don’t need it from you.”
“It seems you do. And the problem, my dear,isyou going there because you don’t know how to protect yourself. You don’t know what to look for in a crowd of half-drunk men who expect the women are willing…more willing then I think you’d wish to be with a stranger. You don’t know how not to start a fight over a cheat at faro.”
“That man shouldn’t have cheated!” she declared, throwing up her hands. “I was winning fairly and he was looking at the banker’s cards before they were thrown.”
He caught her upper arms in both hands and dragged her forward. She toppled off the seat and against his chest, flattening her hand against the warm plane of muscle there. Her heart was pounding, certainly he had to feel it, just as she felt his even through all the layers of propriety that separated them.
“This isn’t a fucking card match with your spinster friends, Marianne.That manwas coming for you. Likely no one at that table would have stopped him from hitting you or worse. Itisn’ta game there.”
She bit her lip and tried not to think of the loud anger of the man she had accused. Of the fear that had blossomed in her chest when he lunged for her. The relief when Sebastian had appeared like some knight in a children’s story and ridden to her rescue.
She stared up at him, his blue eyes almost gray in the darkness. His fingers loosened on her arms slightly and one lifted to brush her hair away from her cheek.
“I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I hadn’t gotten there in time,” he whispered.
She blinked at that admission, softly but powerfully made. “I’ll—I’ll be more careful next time.”
The carriage slowed to a stop and he released her, letting her go back to her seat. “Next time,” he repeated, and his expression grew shocked. “You mean you intend to go back to that place?”
“Or something like it. I can’t promise I won’t,” she said, stepping down without waiting for the driver to help her. She certainly didn’t need the humiliation of more prying eyes.
Sebastian followed at her heels. “Do you hear how mad that sounds?”
“No!” she said as she walked into the house. She dropped her voice and made for the stairs in the hopes he wouldn’t follow her, though of course he did. “Sebastian, Iwillbe careful. But I rather enjoyed the atmosphere until the game went awry. I’d like to see more of the hells. I’ve heard of one called the Donville Masquerade from the whispers of some of the married ladies and?—”
He dragged her into her chamber, shutting the door behind her and spinning her to pin her against it. “You cannot go there!” he said. “Not there.”
“Sebastian,” she said, pushing against his chest. This time he didn’t let her go but held her there.
“Goddamn it, Marianne. You may try to be more, but you’re still so innocent,” he said. “And if you push too hard you might get hurt. And not just by a misplaced fist. I never want that for you.”
“You are just like my brother,” she said, shoving him harder and making him step aside where he dragged a hand through his hair in clear frustration. “You wantnothingfor me. You made it more than clear. But you have no hold over me, Sebastian. You don’t get to decide what I do.”
“You think you know what I want when it comes to you?” He stepped toward her and suddenly he felt so big in the little room she’d had to herself her entire life. He felt like he stole the air, stole the heat, stole everything. “I don’t wantnothingfor you, Marianne. In fact, I fear I want too much.”
He was moving closer and closer, his gaze holding her so steady that she felt pinned in place. When he reached her he caught her arms yet again, but this time there was no desperation, no force, there was just…passion. All of it increased when he tugged her against his chest once more and kissed her.
She should have refused him. After all, it was less than a week before that he had declared they couldn’t do this because of his loyalty to her brother. She had vowed never to pursue him again, no matter how much it ached to do so.
But she couldn’t pull away. He was a magnet and she was held to him by forces of nature. As his tongue drove against hers, she lifted against him, grasping at his lapels the way he’d grabbed Lanford’s, trying to mold herself close enough that he couldn’t separate them.
She was trembling as his kiss deepened and then slowed. The passion didn’t cool, but it became more metered as his hands stole away from her arms and down her back, across her hips, around her backside where he lifted her against him with a deep, rumbling groan of what she recognized was desire. And her own body answered, thrumming with the same, aching in a way she understood now that he had touched her.
She didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want him to pull away again. Not tonight. Not now when she was so close to a taste of something she had longed for even when it had no name.
“Marianne,” he moaned against her mouth, then he kissed her again, relentless and desperate.
“Please,” she murmured, clinging tighter to him. “Please don’t push me away. Please don’t.”
