Jeremy seized his opportunity. Downing what was left in his glass of whiskey, he headed across the drawing room, not caring if anyone thought it was suspicious or scandalous. He could not endure the rest of the evening if it meant watching Anna become someone else’s.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beatrice move, her brow furrowed, her mouth open as if to call out to him. He quickened his pace, for he didn’t need to be dissuaded and certainly didn’t need to be told that this was likely a terrible idea.
The cold evening air hit him like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to clear his mind to more rational thoughts. The fire inside him was too intense to be cooled now.
A few other guests were on the terrace. He ignored them as he sought Anna out, finding her at the bottom of the marble steps that led into the gardens. She stood there with her back to him, her lady’s maid at her side… as always.
It won’t deter me, not this time.
He marched straight down to where Anna was and pushed between her and her lady’s maid, his hand curving around Anna’s upper arm. With just enough force to make his intention clear, he pulled her into the gardens, looking for a secluded spot where none of the inquisitive guests could see them.
“Are you mad?” she protested in a hiss. “What are you doing? Those guests will go directly to the scandal sheets to report what they saw!”
“I don’t care,” he replied gruffly, as he led her into a trellised tunnel, overgrown with wisteria that had not yet bloomed. Camouflage enough to keep out prying eyes, though not prying assumptions.
Relaxing his grip on her arm, he turned to stand in front of her. She was breathing fast, his mind filling with visions of her seated before her vanity, stripped bare, those pretty hazel eyes watching in the reflection as he pleasured her, following the trace of his kisses up her neck, and the grasp of his hand on her breast.
“Ye shouldn’t be laughing with him,” he said thickly. “Ye shouldn’t let him touch ye.”
A dry laugh barked from her lips. “Whyever not? Am I not permitted to have fun, simply because you are not enjoying yourself?”
“Because ye’re mine, lass,” he growled.
Her beautiful eyes narrowed at him, the shine of mirth replaced with a glint of anger. “I am no one’s, least of all yours,” she replied bitterly. “But Imightbecome Colin’s. He is amusing, friendly, easy to be around, and lives close enough that I could walk in the same places. It isyouwho should not touch me, for you have shown you have no intentions toward me.”
He clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain some semblance of self-control. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her until she had no thought of any other man. He would have dropped to his knees right there and buried his face between her thighs, teasing her with his tongue until she cried out his name and the guestsreallyhad something to gossip about.
“Yes, I think Imightconsider Colin,” she continued, taunting him. “Then, we both get what we wanted. I get toalmostkeep my home, I get the security of marriage, and a position that would allow me to actually leave my home without fearing it will be taken. I get the commitment of someone who would assuredly treat me well. And you get to be rid of me, so I cannot tempt you any longer. Is that not ideal for all? Indeed, I do believe Colinisthe perfect choice.”
He stared at her, searching her face for any sign of dishonesty, eager to find something in her expression to show she was not serious. Surely, she could not want to live a dull existence as the Marchioness of Belford? Surely, the thrill of what they had was better than any ‘security’ that Colin could give?
Do ye know how it would haunt me, to have ye so close?
“Never say another man’s name in me presence,” he rasped, wishing he had ridden off the first time he had encountered Colin.
“I shall say what I please to someone who has no say in what I do,” she shot back, her bosom heaving with the exertion of her obvious anger. “You forget,sir,that a woman is not handed good fortune. Iwaslucky. I was lucky that my husband died before he could hurt me, as he hurt so many others. I was lucky to be allowed to think of this house as my home for a year and a half. But now, because you have made it impossible for me to stay here, I must seek my own luck, andColinmight well be my stroke of good fortune.”
“Ye will never be his,” Jeremy seethed, his grip slipping on his restraint.
“By whose authority?” she challenged. “Not yours. You do not want me.”
“Oh, I want ye,” he replied, closing the small gap between them. “Wanting ye isn’t the problem.”
How could she think that, when he had not been able to sleep or eat properly over the past few days, consumed with want?
“I am not your plaything,” she said, her eyes bright, her gaze flitting to his lips. “I shall not be a mistress or a secret. I shall not be a… comfort that you seek whenever you find it convenient. So, allow me to get out of whatever tangle we are in. Allow me to give you what you want, and take my leave of Stonebridge to be a wife somewhere else. Safe, away from you.”
“I don’t want ye away from me.” He curved his arm around her waist and felt his loins ache as she gasped. “I want ye as close as ye can be. I want to lose meself in ye.”
His other hand slipped between them and found the peak of her thighs, cupping his palm against the pulsing core of her pleasure. She buried her face in his chest for a moment to stifle the cry that escaped, and he knew, in that moment, that he would say or do anything to keep her there with him.
When she tilted her head up to look at him, he didn’t hesitate. He caught her mouth with his in a desperate kiss, silently cursing the layers of fabric that kept him from touching her secret bud or sinking his fingers deep into the heat of her.
At once, she kissed him back with equal fervor, pressing her body to his, grinding herself against the curve of his hand, clinging to him as if everything she’d just said meant nothing. It took what threadbare self-control he still had not to hoist her up and unfasten his trousers, so they might both find their deepest satisfaction.
I could never rush it with ye… I’d want yer first time to be like magic, and that’s why ye can’t marry any of those fools.
Still, it didn’t quiet the roaring desire that rushed through his veins as he kissed her with a frantic urgency, and she kissed him back in kind. Apparently, she no longer cared about the guests who might be whispering. Neither did he.
