The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

Her voice was calm and controlled. He didn't stop smiling. "On the other hand," he said close to her mouth, "perhaps I don't really wish to come into you right now. Perhaps what I really wish to do is pay you back. Give you a taste of retribution. Yes, that's exactly what I want to do."

He carried her to the water's edge. She knew his intent and began to struggle. He laughed as he waded out into the water, ruining his soft leather boots and not caring. He waded until the water lapped around his thighs.

She was screaming at him, pounding her fists against his chest, his arms, his shoulders.

He lifted her high in his arms and hefted her a good four feet into deeper water. She landed on her back, arms flailing wildly, and sank like a stone.

"There, you hellion," he shouted when her head cleared the water. Her chestnut hair was matted and tangled over her face and shoulders. She looked quite pathetic. "Don't attack me again unless you want to pay more reparations."

He laughed again and strode back to his horse. "I mean it, Sophia. I am a gentleman most of the time unless circumstances dictate another behav­ior. Understand me. I will never allow you to do your worst to me again without complete and utter retaliation."

As she stumbled through the water, her skirts dragged her first to one side and then to another. Her boot went into a hole and she went down on her face. She managed to regain her balance and rose, shaking her fist at him. He was on his horse's back, riding away down the beach. He was still laughing.

He stopped and she heard him shout over his shoulder, "Tonight. Nine o'clock. Don't be late! Ah, and make certain the place is aired out."

Sophie paced the cottage, aware that her uncle was watching her from the corner of his eye. She said finally, "I'm afraid of him."

"Don't be a fool," Theo Burgess said. "He's just a man, a young man, not all that experienced, surely."

"You're wrong. I get the impression he's slept with more women than there are on Jamaica. Him and his damnable standards."

Theo shrugged. "Get him drunk. You know how to do it. It's nearly time for him to arrive. I'll be close by. You know what to do."

"Yes," she said and wished, quite simply, that she could drop to the ground and die.

But that would leave Jeremy alone.

She stiffened her back, but the fear wouldn't go away. She had to get control, she had to manipulate him. She was good at it, for she was bright, and the good Lord knew she'd had a lot of practice.

At exactly nine o'clock, there came a light tap on the front door of the cottage.

Sophie opened the door. He stood there, giving her a lazy smile.

As he stepped past her into the cottage, he said, 'Tour attempt at a seductive gown is more of a success than not, I should say. However, harlot-red really isn't your color. I think a soft green would be more the thing. To avoid laughter, you should avoid any shade of white. Also, the whalebone pushing up your breasts is an artifice I deplore. A woman has breasts or she doesn't. A man who knows women isn't fooled. But you will learn. Come into the light so I can see your face."

Sophie followed him dumbly. She was right to be afraid of him.

He clasped her chin in his long fingers and raised her face into the full candlelight. "Ah, no makeup, or hardly any. I am pleased that you wish to satisfy my demands. Now, should you like to strip for me now or should we talk for a while? Who are your favorite philosophers, for example? Ah, I can see by your expression that you have read the great minds throughout all the centuries. Yes, there are so many you are very likely completely conversant about. Let's select only the second half of the last century. French."

She drew back, moving away from him to stand behind a wicker chair. "I like Rousseau."

"Do you now? Do you read him in French or do you read him in English?"

"Both." She turned away from him and quick­ly poured him a glass of rum punch. She handed it to him. "It's warm tonight. While we speak of Rousseau, why don't you drink a bit."

"I don't like Rousseau. I find him nauseatingly imprecise in his thoughts and rather foolish, truth be told, in his aspirations of the earth's possible perfection in his hands, using, naturally, his absurd methods."

Ryder raised his glass and toasted her. He drank it. It was tart and cold and quite delicious. He hadn't realized he was so thirsty. He didn't particularly care for rum, but this didn't taste all that much like rum. He took another drink. It was really very good.

"I think Rousseau is a gentle man, one who wishes what is best for both men and women. He believes that we should quit the infamy and decadence of the world and return to a simpler life, return to nature."

"As I recall, this matter of nature was never defined."

Ryder drank more punch. It slid down his throat, tasting better than anything he'd ever drunk in his life. He finished the glass and handed it back to her. She poured him another.

"As I said, the fellow is a fool. What he should have preached is that men must control women or they will lose all sense of what and who they are, for women can control men through sex. The more skilled the woman, the more dangerous she is to a man. You, for instance, Sophia. I wonder what you want from me. I wonder what I have that you could possibly lust after, other than my body, of course. It is true that I am a Sherbrooke and thus the planta­tion belongs to my family, however—" Ryder broke off. He felt suddenly quite warm; he felt, really, quite wonderful, relaxed, but yet t

he need for her was growing hot in his blood. She looked soft and sweet to him, so willing, so anxious to please him. Now she was holding out her arms to him and she was speaking to him, but he didn't understand her words, which was odd, but he really didn't care. He downed the rest of the rum punch, rose from his chair, and walked to her. He took her into his arms and began kissing her. Her breath was warm and sweet and she opened her mouth to him and he reveled in her. His hands swept down her back to cup her buttocks. As he had that afternoon, he lifted her against him and moaned at the delightful sensation.