Part 6 (1/2)

Startled, musical laughter erupted from her before she could stop it. ”You did nothing of the sort,” she chuckled. ”Besides, if you wouldn't duel with Lord Everly when he called you a cheat, you certainly wouldn't harm poor Lord Howard merely for touching my arm.” ”Wouldn't I?” he asked softly. ”Those are two very different issues.”

Not for the first time, Elizabeth found herself at a loss to understand him. Suddenly his presence was vaguely threatening again; whenever he stopped playing the amusing” gallant he became a dark, mysterious stranger. Raking her hair off her forehead, she glanced out the window. ”It must be after three already. I really must leave.” She surged to her feet, smoothing her skirts. ”Thank you for a lovely afternoon. I don't know why I remained. I shouldn't have, but I am glad I did. . . .”

She ran out of words and watched in wary alarm as he stood up. ”Don't you?” he asked softly.

”Don't I what?” ”Know why you're still here with me?” ”I don't even know who you are?” she cried. ”I know about places you've been, but not your family, your people. I know you gamble great sums of money at cards, and I disapprove of that.”

”I also gamble great sums of money on s.h.i.+ps and cargo will that improve my character in your eyes?”

”And I know,” she continued desperately, watching his gaze turn warm and sensual, ”I absolutely know you make me excessively uneasy when you look at me the way you're doing now.”

”Elizabeth,” he said in a tone of tender finality, ”you're here because we're already half in love with each other.”

”Whaaat?” she gasped. ”And as to needing to know who I am, that's very simple to answer.” His hand lifted, grazing her pale cheek, then smoothing backward, cupping her head. Gently he explained, ”I am the man you're going to marry.”

”Oh, my G.o.d!”

”I think it's too late to start praying,” he teased huskily.

”You-you must be mad.” she said. her voice quavering. ”My thoughts exactly,” he whispered. and, bending his head, he pressed his lips to her forehead. drawing her against his chest, holding her as if he knew she would struggle if he tried to do more than that. ”You were not in my plans, Miss Cameron.”

”Oh, please,” Elizabeth implored helplessly, ”don't do this to me. I don't understand any of this. I don't know what you want.”

”I want you.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted it, forcing her to meet his steady gaze as he quietly added. ”And you want me.”

Elizabeth's entire body started to tremble as his lips began descending to hers. and she sought to forestall what her heart knew was inevitable by reasoning with him. ”A gently bred Englishwoman,” she shakily quoted Lucinda's lecture. ”feels nothing stronger than affection. We do not fall in love.”

His warm lips covered hers. ”I'm a Scot,” he murmured huskily. ”We do.”

”A Scot!” she uttered when he lifted his mouth from hers. He laughed at her appalled expression. ”I said 'Scot,' not 'ax murderer'.” A Scot who was a gambler to boot! Havenhurst would land on the auction block, the servants turned off, and the world would fall apart. ”I cannot, cannot marry you.”

”Yes, Elizabeth,” he whispered as his lips trailed a hot path over her cheek to her ear, ”you can.”

His lips brushed back and forth across her ear, then his tongue touched the lobe and began delicately tracing each curve, slowly probing each crevice, until Elizabeth s.h.i.+vered with the waves of tension shooting through her. The instant he felt her trembling response, his arm tightened, supporting her, while his tongue plunged boldly into her ear. His hand curved round her nape, sensually stroking it, and he began trailing scorching kisses down her neck to her shoulder. His warm breath stirred her hair and his whisper was achingly gentle as his mouth began retracing its stirring path to her ear again. ”Don't be afraid, I'll stop whenever you tell me to.”

Imprisoned by his protective embrace, rea.s.sured by his promise, and seduced by his mouth and caressing hands, Elizabeth clung to him, sliding slowly into a dark abyss of desire where he was deliberately sending them both.

He dragged his mouth roughly across her cheek, and when his lips touched the comer of hers, Elizabeth helplessly turned her head to fully receive his kiss. The sweet offering of her mouth wrung a half-groan, half-laugh from him, and his lips seized hers in a kiss of melting hunger that deepened to scorching demand.

Suddenly, Elizabeth was being lifted and lowered onto his lap, then s.h.i.+fted down onto the sofa, his mouth locked fiercely to hers as he leaned over her. His tongue traced a hot line between her lips, coaxing, urging them to part, and then insisting. The moment they yielded, his tongue plunged into her mouth, stroking and caressing. Her body jerked convulsively with the primitive sensations jarring through her entire nerve stream, and Elizabeth surrendered mindlessly to the stormy splendor of the pagan kiss. Her hands s.h.i.+fted restlessly over his heavily muscled shoulders and forearms, her lips moving against his with increasing abandon as she fed his hunger and unwittingly increased it.

When he finally pulled his mouth from hers an eternity later, their breaths were coming in mingled gasps. Feeling almost bereft, Elizabeth surfaced slightly from the sensual Eden where he had sent her, and forced her heavy eyelids to open so that she could look at him. Stretched out beside her on the sofa, he was leaning over her, his tanned face hard and dark with pa.s.sion, his amber eyes smoldering. Lifting his hand, he tenderly brushed a golden lock of hair off her cheek, and he tried to smile, but his breathing was as ragged as hers. Unaware of the effort he was making to keep their pa.s.sion under control, Elizabeth let her gaze drop to his finely chiseled mouth, and she watched him draw an unsteady breath. ”Don't,” he warned her in a husky, tender voice, ”look at my mouth unless you want it on yours again.”

Too naive to know how to hide her feelings, Elizabeth lifted her green eyes to his, and her longing for his kiss was in their soft depths. Ian drew a steadying breath, and yielded to temptation again, gently telling her how to show him what she wanted. ”Put your hand around my neck,” he whispered tenderly.

Her long fingers lifted to his nape, and he lowered his mouth to hers, so close their breaths mingled. Understanding finally dawned, and Elizabeth put firmer pressure on his nape. And even though she was braced for it, the shock of his parted lips on hers again was wild, indescribable sweetness. This time it was Elizabeth who touched her tongue to his lips, and when she felt him shudder, instinct told her she was doing something right.

It told him the same thing, and he jerked his mouth from hers. ”Don't do this, Elizabeth,” he warned.

In answer, she tightened her hand at his nape and at the same time turned into his arms. His mouth came down hard on hers, but instead of struggling, her body arched against him and she drew his tongue into her mouth. Against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she felt his heart slam into his ribs, and he began kissing her with unleashed pa.s.sion, his tongue tangling with hers, then plunging and slowly retreating in some wildly exciting, forbidden rhythm that made the blood roar in Elizabeth's ears. His hand slid up her side to her breast, covering it possessively, and Elizabeth jumped in shocked protest.

”Don't,” he whispered against her lips. ”G.o.d, don't. Not yet. . .”

Stunned into stillness by the harsh need in his voice, Elizabeth gazed up into his face as he lifted his head, his eyes moving restlessly over the bodice of her dress. Despite his protest, his hand was still, and in her befuddled senses, she finally realized he was honoring his promise to stop whenever she asked him to stop. Helpless to stop or encourage him, she looked at the masculine fingers, still and tanned against her white s.h.i.+rt, then she dragged her eyes to his.

Heat was beating behind them, and with a silent moan, Elizabeth curled her hand behind his head and turned into his body.

It was all the encouragement Ian needed. His fingers moved and spread across her breast, but his gaze was locked with hers, watching the way her beautiful face reflected first fear then pleasure. b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to Elizabeth, had heretofore been like legs-they both had a purpose; legs were to walk on and b.r.e.a.s.t.s were to hold up and fill out the bodice of a gown. She had no idea they could give such sensation, and kissed into insensibility, she lay quiescent while his fingers unfastened her s.h.i.+rt, pulling down her chemise, baring her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his hot gaze. Reflexively she reached to cover herself, but he swiftly lowered his head, distracting her by the expedient means of kissing her fingers, then drawing a fingertip into his mouth and sucking hard against it. Elizabeth stiffened in shock and pulled her hand away, but his lips only found a breast and did the same thing to her nipple. Raw pleasure streaked through her, and she moaned, her fingers sliding into the soft dark hair at his nape, her heart hammering out a frantic warning to tell him to stop. He nuzzled the other breast, his lips closing tightly around the taut nipple and her body arched, her hands tightening on his nape. Suddenly, he raised up, his eyes restlessly caressing her swollen b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then he swallowed and drew a long, tortured breath. ”Elizabeth, we're going to have to stop.”

Elizabeth's swirling senses began to return to reality, slowly at first, and then with a sickening plummet. Pa.s.sion gave way to fear and then to anguished shame as she realized she was lying in a man's arms, her s.h.i.+rt unfastened, her flesh exposed to his gaze and touch. Closing her eyes, she fought back the sting of tears and shoved his hand away, lurching into an upright position. ”Let me rise, please,” she whispered, her voice strangled with self-revulsion. Her skin flinched as he began to fasten her s.h.i.+rt, but in order to do it he had to release his hold on her, and the moment he did, she scrambled to her feet. Turning her back to him, she fastened her s.h.i.+rt with shaking hands and s.n.a.t.c.hed her jacket from the peg beside the fire. He moved so silently that she had no idea he'd stood until his hands settled on her stiff shoulders. ”Don't be frightened of what is between us. I'II be able to provide for you-”

All of Elizabeth's confusion and anguish exploded in a burst of tempestuous, sobbing fury that was directed at herself, but which she hurtled at him. Tearing free of his grasp, she whirled around. ”Provide for me,” she cried. ”Provide what? A-a hovel in Scotland where I'II stay while you dress the part of an English gentleman so you can gamble away everything-”

”If things go on as I expect,” he interrupted her in a voice of taut calm, ”I'll be one of the richest men in England within a year two at the most. If they don't, you'll still be well provided for.”

Elizabeth s.n.a.t.c.hed her bonnet and backed away from him in a fear that was partly of him and partly of her own weakness. ”This is madness. Utter madness.” Turning. she headed for the door.

”I know,” he said gently. She reached for the door handle and jerked the door open. Behind her, his voice stopped her in midstep. ”If you change your mind after we leave in the morning, you can reach me at Hammund's town house in Upper Brook Street until Wednesday. After that I'd intended to leave for India. I'll be gone until winter.”

”I-I hope you have a safe voyage,” she said, too overwrought to wonder about the sharp tug of loss she felt at the realization he was leaving.

”If you change your mind in time,” he teased, ”I'll take you with me.”

Elizabeth fled in sheer terror from the gentle confidence she'd heard in his smiling voice. As she galloped through the thick fog and wet underbrush she was no longer the sensible, confident young lady she'd been before; instead she was a terrified, bewildered girl with a mountain of responsibilities and an upbringing that convinced her the wild attraction she felt for Ian Thornton was sordid and unforgivable.

As she left the horse in the stable and saw with sinking horror that the party had already returned from the village jaunt, she didn't think of anything except sending Robert a note begging him to fetch her that night, instead of in the morning.

Elizabeth had supper in her room while Berta packed, and she scrupulously avoided the window of her bedchamber, which happened to look out over the gardens below. Twice she'd glanced outside, and both times she'd seen Ian. The first time he'd been standing alone on the terrace, a cheroot clamped between his teeth, staring out across the lawns, and his solitary stance ,made her heart ache because he seemed lonely somehow. The next time she saw him, he was surrounded by females who'd not been there last night new arrivals at the house party, Elizabeth supposed and all five of them seemed to find him irresistible. She told herself it didn't matter, could not matter to her. She had responsibilities to Robert and Havenhurst, and they had to come first. Despite what Ian obviously thought, she could not link her future with that of a reckless gambler, even if he was probably the handsomest Scotsman ever born and the gentlest Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to shut out these thoughts. It was incredibly silly to think of Ian in this way. Silly and dangerous, for Valerie and some of the others seemed to suspect where she'd been all afternoon, and with whom. Wrapping her arms around herself, Elizabeth s.h.i.+vered as she remembered how neatly she'd been trapped by her own guilt that afternoon as soon as she'd walked into the house.

”Good heavens, you're wet,” Valerie had exclaimed in a cry of sympathy. ”The stable said you've been gone all afternoon. Don't say you were lost and in the rain all that time!”

”No, I-I came upon a cottage in the woods and stayed there until the rain let up a little while ago.” It had seemed the wisest thing to say, since Ian's horse had been nowhere in sight and hers had been perfectly visible, should anyone have cared to look.

”What time was that?”

”Close to one o'clock, I think,”

”Did you happen to come upon Mr. Thornton while you were out?” Valerie inquired with a malicious smile, and everyone in the salon seemed to stop talking and turn toward them. ”The gamekeeper said he saw a tall, dark man mounted on a big sorrel stallion go into the cottage. He a.s.sumed the man was a guest, and so he didn't challenge his presence.”

”I-I didn't see him,” Elizabeth said. ”It was . . . very foggy. I hope nothing untoward happened to him.”

”We aren't certain. He isn't back yet. Charise is concerned, although,” Valerie continued, watching Elizabeth closely, ”I told her she needn't be. The scullery maids gave him a luncheon a deux to take with him.”

Stepping aside to let a couple pa.s.s, Elizabeth explained to Valerie that she'd decided to leave tonight instead of tomorrow, and without giving Valerie an opportunity to question her reason she quickly excused herself to change out of her wet clothing.

Berta had taken one look at Elizabeth's pale face and guessed at once that something was terribly wrong, particularly when Elizabeth insisted on sending word to Robert to fetch them home tonight. By the time Elizabeth had sent the note off Berta had managed to pry most of the story out of Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was forced to spend the rest of her afternoon and early evening trying to soothe her maid.