Page 60 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

With a sigh, she pressed herself into his hard, inflexible muscles. God, he smelled wonderful. Raw power flexed in the hard muscles of the arm wrapped around her, while his hand slid across a shoulder and back that had been completely bared to him the moment he’d ripped her dress open.

Everything about him was unyielding against her. This man would take all she offered, then demand more, and she wouldn’t hesitate to surrender willingly to him. His hot tongue slid into her mouth, demanding, yet giving as well. Fingers brushing the base of her throat, something dark and dominating echoed out of Valeran.

Lost in the flood of sensation he’d aroused in her, she burrowed her body into him as if he were a lifeline she needed to cling to, simply to survive the tempest he’d ignited inside her. Arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers slid through his ebony hair. It was every bit as silky as she’d imagined it would be.

Faint hints of vanilla mixed with the taste of semi-sweet plums and dried black currants from the Bordeaux they’d had with dinner danced across her taste buds. The wine tasted far better now than it had when she’d been drinking it. The way his tongue teased and swirled around hers accentuated the fiery warmth of the wine.

Suddenly, she was aware of the spot between her thighs throbbing with intense need. Eager for him to ease the ache assaulting her body, she fell back onto the mattress, pulling him with her. The hardness of his body pressed into hers as he deepened their kiss. Sheer bliss made her cling to him, while her fingers explored the warm flesh where his shirt was open at the base of his throat.

Heaven help her, she didn’t want this to end. All she wanted was to be an intrinsical part of him that he couldn’t live without. Most of all, every cell in her body was willing to surrender to him over and over again if this was what heaven was like. Suddenly, he was retreating from her, and she whimpered a protest.

Why was he stopping now? Muttering something unintelligible beneath his breath, he pushed himself away from her and quickly rose to tower over her. Frozen on the bed where he’d left her, she stared up at him in shock. Was he actually ending what he’d begun the moment he’d ripped open her gown?

“Thank you, my lady, for that delightful kiss. Your lips are as sweet as I remember.”

He looked no more disturbed by what had just happened than if he’d simply planted a chaste and proper kiss on her cheek. When he turned away from her, Amalie shot upright on the mattress. Stunned, she watched him walk toward the door connecting their rooms.

Outrage sailed through Amalie, and she drew in a sharp hiss of air. What kind of game was the devil playing? Furious at the way he’d toyed with her like a cat would a mouse, a bitter taste filled her mouth. That’s all she was to him, a drab little country mouse. It was all she’d ever be.

“Lord Sommerville, please name the day and time you expect me to perform my wifely duties. I’m eager to give you the heir you demanded as part of our bargain.”

Despite the drink she’d consumed threatening to reign supreme over her tongue, Amalie succeeded in speaking with an icy precision not even Lady Chattfield could muster. Valeran halted in mid-stride to stand frozen with his back to her. His stillness sent a chilling awareness through her as she recognized something dangerous in the way the muscles of his back flexed. No longer caring what he did to her, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin with all the pride of Angus Stewart himself.

“I might be your wife, my lord, but this plump country mouse refuses to let the cat toy with her. When I’ve given you an heir, you will not touch me again.”

Valeran’s muscles tightened even more beneath his shirt until they were cords of taut steel arching across his back. He remained silent for a long moment before he drew in a deep breath. She saw his body move with the action, but he didn’t turn to face her.

“It’s been a trying day, Lady Sommerville,” he said quietly. “We both need sleep. I will see you at breakfast.”

With that, her husband disappeared through the door, and it closed with a soft thud. Pain rolled through every inch of Amalie the moment the latch clicked into place. One foot tumbling over the other, she staggered out of bed and toward the wine bottles on the table. She intended to drink every last drop in the first bottle, then the entire contents of the second one, until she couldn’t see any better than her husband. Damn, Lord Sommerville. Damn him to hell.

Chapter 17

Valeran closed his bedroom door. Shoving his fingers through his hair, he cupped the back of his neck to massage it in an effort to release some of the tension holding his muscles painfully taut. Christ, what the hell had he been thinking when he’d decided to seduce his wife one kiss at a time?

In response to the question, his cock roared a demand for satisfaction in his trousers. Groaning with discomfort, he refused to surrender to the beast. If this was what was in store for him until Amalie came to him of her own free will, he was in for some painful nights. While his body might find satisfaction with his hand, he knew there was no real satisfaction in allowing his cock to bend him to its will. The only thing that would satisfy it and him was burying himself in his wife’s sweet core.

Crossing the room to the chair at the fireplace, he flung himself back against the firm, padded leather. There had to be a better way to court Amalie, and without putting both of them through this hellish state of sexual frustration. And Christ almighty, accompanied by all the saints, this was a hell unlike anything he’d ever experienced, especially when he knew heaven was only a few steps away.

Amalie had been furious with him for walking away from her. If the woman only knew what it had cost him to do so. But if his wife had known how much his body had protested his retreating from her, Amalie would have danced a reel around him with joyful glee. As it was, she’d laid waste to all the things he’d planned when it came to courting her.

The instant she’d coldly informed him that she was at his disposal to perform her wifely duties, her words had cut deeper than he’d ever thought possible. Valeran didn’t want Amalie to see sharing his bed as a duty. The last thing he wanted was a wife who couldn’t abide his touch. But at the moment, he was beginning to think that might actually happen.

That clever stunt with those damn buttons showed she had a delightfully mischievous sense of humor, but it also emphasized her determination not to enter his bed. The question Valeran had yet to answer was why. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that she desired him as much as he did her. She’d even confessed to the fact the day he proposed to her.

So why did she resist what they both wanted? They could have a full, rich marriage filled with passion and deep friendship. Valeran believed that with every fiber of his being. He knew life would never be boring, whether it was in or out of his wife’s bed. Amalie was the most passionate woman he’d ever met and not simply that of physical attraction. His wife would make life exciting, unexpected, perhaps even joyful.

The decision Valeran had made to force her hand into marrying him that morning at Callendar Abbey had been the right choice for him. Amalie was the wife he’d always wanted, complete without the emotional entanglement of love he’d wanted to avoid in a marriage.

Unfortunately, his decision to back Amalie into a corner and deny her the free will to refuse him had not been the right choice as far as his wife was concerned. Every time he thought he’d taken one step forward in earning her trust, he really lost more ground.

But how could he convince Amalie that he was the husband for her? Breaking down the wall she’d erected between them was proving damn difficult. In fact, it was as if Sensei Yu had thrown an invisible obstacle in front of him. The master of martial arts had been his teacher for more than six years before Valeran had entered Eton, much later than most boys.

When his parents had been murdered, Valeran had gone to live with his mother’s older brother in the country. A year after their deaths, his uncle had visited the Limehouse district of London, returning with Sensei Yu. Uncle Robert had insisted Valeran learn how to protect himself, and he’d been an excellent student.

Repeatedly, and without warning, Sensei Yu would place physical obstacles in Valeran’s path, which had resulted in his ass or nose meeting the floor. Eventually, those obstacles had helped him turn his blindness into a strength, not a weakness.

But the wall Amalie had built between them was unlike any obstacle Sensei Yu had ever placed in front of him. The wall separating him and his wife was an invisible, almost tangible thing. It was a barrier he couldn’t move physically, and bringing it down was proving to be even more daunting than he’d expected. Tonight, he’d thought he’d actually made a few cracks in the divide with Amalie’s reaction to the dinner he’d ordered specifically for their evening meal.