The Deception (Baron 3)

“Ask me again in three or four decades, and then we can discuss my obvious weakness for you.”

She was drowning and he was offering her life, only she couldn’t take it. One day he would discover what she was. On that day he would revile her. He would curse her. She was his enemy; he just didn’t yet realize it.

“You’ve mistaken my feelings. I don’t love you.” He didn’t believe her. She’d been silent for too long. He’d told her he wasn’t a blind man. He’d seen the myriad expressions on her face, one leaving, another shadowing her eyes, and he’d seen more anguish than he could begin to understand. He wanted to shake her, yell at her, but something held him back. He said quite mildly, “Then what are your feelings for me that I have so misunderstood?”

She raised her eyes to his face, knowing that she must hurt him, and herself. She remembered Lady Jane Bellerman’s insults, so childish, really, but she had no choice but to try them. She hated herself even as she said, her voice cold, “You don’t have to offer me marriage, your grace. You asked me what my feelings for you are. I find you a very desirable man, as I suspect most women do. I would like to bed you, not wed you.” She forced herself to shrug her shoulders indifferently. “As Lady Jane said, Englishmen don’t wed ladies who have already known another man. You may admit it to me, your grace, it’s my body you want, not interminable years in my company. Believe me, I’m honored that you would push for marriage just to get me in your bed. You may stop your marriage talk now. I’ll come to your bed, willingly.”

It was odd. He’d known her for less then two months, but he knew she was lying. Actually, she didn’t lie all that well. What to do? To buy himself time, he said only, “I don’t understand you, Evangeline.”

She gave what he assumed was her rendition of a Gallic shrug, not a very good one. “If I were entirely English—one of you—and a virgin, no doubt I should view such an offer with far different eyes. But I’ve been married. I don’t wish to do that again. Perhaps you were right that André was a clod with lovemaking. I know that you’re not. I know that you’d be perfect about all of it.”

What would he say? What would he do? Would she shortly see contempt for her in his eyes?

“So,” he said, and there was simple amusement in his dark eyes. “So, now you appear to have found a use for me. At least now you admit that the dearly departed Saint André wasn’t a magnificent, godlike specimen.” He paused, and his voice lowered. “Did he abuse you? Did the bastard hit you?”

“No, of course not. Listen, I simply prefer my widowed life. I enjoy doing what I wish.” No, that couldn’t be right. “While it’s true that I haven’t much money, I do enjoy Edmund, I enjoy living at Chesleigh.” Good God, she was digging a hole that would shortly land her in faraway China.

“And what you wish,” he said slowly, “is that I become your lover and not your husband?” “I enjoy kissing you.”

“Ah, that’s nice to hear.” What was going on here? He walked to her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. She didn’t back away from him. This was getting more interesting. He closed his hands about her shoulders and pulled her slowly against him. She tried to free herself, but he tightened his hold and brought her closer. Her breasts touched his chest, and he knew he was hard as a stone. Then he felt all of her and wanted to howl with the overwhelming lust and tenderness and urgency that were flooding over him. Would she always have this effect on him? He imagined so. He smiled at her as he forced her face upward. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice warm and light against her forehead. Then he lowered his head, slowly and deliberately, and kissed her. “You’re mine. Now and forever, you’re only mine.”

“No,” she said, and knew she wanted him so much she would shatter if she couldn’t kiss him now, this very instant. “Oh, yes. No more playacting, Evangeline.” “Please,” she said, and he kissed her once, again, not forcing her mouth to open, but she did open her mouth, eagerly. His hands were in her hair, pulling out all the pins, freeing her hair, stroking his fingers through it, then down her back, cupping her buttocks in his big hands. Then his hands were back in her hair, tangling it around his fingers, and he didn’t stop kissing her. He said into her mouth, his voice not at all steady, “Do you remember when I told you your hair is exquisite?”

“Yes,” she said, just the sound of her voice nearly bringing him to his knees. His hands were on her hips again, lifting her against him, pressing her tighter and tighter. He wanted more than anything to have her naked, pressed this tightly against him. She felt his lips against her temples, her cheeks, the hollow of her throat. He drew back, his hands still cupping her hips, and looked down into her face.

“What are you feeling, Evangeline?”

She didn’t think it an odd question, for she had no experience with men. She opened her eyes, and for a long moment she found herself unable to say anything.

“I would give my life for you,” she said.

He stared at her, even as he felt a surge of lust so powerful that he nearly pulled her to the carpet beneath their feet. No, no, he thought. Not yet. He got a grip on himself. “Will you always surprise me with the unexpected? Would you tell me why a woman who merely has a wish for a lover would feel so strongly about her lover’s well-being?”

He heard her breath catch, felt her go rigid in his arms, felt that resistance in her, and said, “I love you, Evangeline. It’s far beyond lust, if lust it ever truly was. I imagine that I will love you until I cock up my toes and pass to the hereafter. My father found his mate in my mother. I have found my mate in you. Come, are the words so very hard for you to say?”

She pressed her face inward against his shoulder and shook her head.

He kissed her temple, her cheek, smoothed a fingertip over her eyebrows, kissed the hollow of her throat. Then he closed his hands over her breasts. She was trembling, her breasts heaving. She arched her back, pushing her breasts against his palms. “Do you want me, Evangeline?”

“Yes. Yes.” She threw herself against him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head down so she could kiss him. He laughed. “I see that you do. Will you come with me now? Will you make love with me?”

She should stop this, now. But she couldn’t bear the thought that soon she would have to leave him, that she would probably have to sneak away during a dark night very soon. She would live and die without ever knowing passion with him. Surely it wasn’t so wrong to show him she loved him, to give herself to him just this one night? Tomorrow night, when she met the man who was coming from Houchard, she would tell him that she was of no more use, and she would ready herself to leave. Perhaps she would go to London with him, never see the duke again after tomorrow night. She didn’t want to deny him herself. And her body was all she could share with him. No, she thought, tell the truth. She didn’t want to deny herself. She had to know him, she had to have this one night with him. She said, “Yes, I want to make love with you.”

Chapter 33

“After you, Evangeline.”

She surprised them both by hesitating, her eyes wide and wary upon his face. He smiled at he

r, gently shoved her inside his bedchamber, and closed the door.

Her lips were dry. Suddenly she was very afraid. She was a fool. She would shame herself. She would disgust him. She backed away from him. “I don’t think this is a good idea, your grace.”

“That’s a fact,” he said, and he laughed. “But it doesn’t matter now, it’s far too late.” He pulled her into his arms. “Open your mouth to me, Evangeline. You know it will heighten your pleasure.”

She started to speak, but his mouth closed over hers, and he pressed himself hard against her belly. The knowledge that he would enter her, just as his tongue was possessing her mouth, frightened her and excited her so much she was shaking. She kissed him, so excited that she was clumsy in her awakened passion. She clutched him, wanting more but having no idea what to do.

“What do you feel now?” His breath was hot in her mouth, and his tongue touched her bottom lip.