The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

"Yes. It's deep and has no other opening that I could ever find."

"Have you supplies in there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, things like blankets, perhaps a sheet, a bot­tle of rum or two? Champagne to toast a successful completion?"

"I see. Do I come here occasionally with other people, that is what you're wondering." She looked momentarily thoughtful, nothing more. "No, not to date, but it isn't a bad idea. As I told you, it's quite possible there is a guest in the cottage even as we speak. It would be nice to have another place avail­able to one, don't you think?"

"I think a man would have to be pretty desperate to be naked as a snake in a cold, damp cave, despite the skills of his companion."

"On the contrary. I have found gentlemen to be much alike. They tend to forget themselves entirely. They could be on the moon and dismiss it as unim­portant when they are otherwise occupied."

Ryder suddenly remembered telling his brother that he would forget his very name once he was inside a woman, forget everything for the pleasure was so intense. Once again, he flushed. This time he managed to control it enough so he prayed she wouldn't notice. If she did, she didn't say anything. Damn her.

"To keep many men content when each knows about the other tends to support your theory."

"Crying uncle, Mr. Sherbrooke?"

"No, those are facts. A man has to be stupid not to face up to facts. My name is Ryder. I shouldn't like it if you screamed Mr. Sherbrooke when you have your first orgasm with me. It would make me feel very strange."

She didn't look a bit embarrassed. What she looked was appalled and utterly scornful. He merely smiled at her. "Would you like to go back to the horses? Incidentally, do horses get sunburned?"

She gave a lilting laugh.

It was late in the afternoon. Sophie sat in her bedchamber, wearing only a light shift for the air was heavy and still. She sat very quietly in a cane chair that faced the sea, in front of the open balcony. She was utterly silent. She felt utterly defeated.

She wouldn't be able to handle Ryder Sherbrooke. He wasn't like any other man she'd ever met, any other man she'd manipulated and seduced. It was true that she did him in, but that was because he'd simply never met a woman who spoke so baldly before. But he was already accustoming himself to her.

What to do?

She knew her uncle was in her bedchamber even though she hadn't heard the door open.

"Tell me what happened."

She still didn't turn to face him. She said in a flat voice, "We rode. I showed him Penelope's Beach and one of the caves. He is a man, Uncle, but a man unlike the others. He made no move to kiss me, no move of any kind, but he spoke frankly of sexual things."

"You will seduce him. Perhaps tomorrow night."

She turned then to face him. He was sitting on her bed, his back against the headboard. His face was framed by the mosquito netting, and for an instant, just the veriest instant, he looked good and kind and gentle, the man and mask he presented to the world now one and the same.

"You don't understand. He does what it is he wishes to do. He will tell me when he wants to bed me, not the other way around. I could probably walk around him naked and if he felt he didn't have complete control over me, over the situation, why, he would smile, say something outrageous, and stroll away. He would not even bother to look back to see my reaction."

Theo Burgess frowned. She was right. He'd spo­ken to Ryder Sherbrooke long enough that morning to see her point. It was valid and it irked him.

"Fine," he said, rising now. "We will simply get him to the cottage another way."

She said nothing. She felt very cold suddenly, very cold and very weary.

"Did he say anything about his wounded arm?"

She shook her head.

"He isn't a stupid man. I imagine he inquired as to who hereabouts could shoot a bow and arrow. He plays a game, but you and I, Sophia, we are the ones, the only ones who know the rules."

She hated the rules. They were his rules, not hers.

That evening she had to tell Lord David Lochridge that she wanted nothing more to do with him. She had no idea how to accomplish it, for he was young and filled with himself, and she knew that he wouldn't be able to imagine anyone not wishing for his wonderful self anymore.