The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

She felt the bed give and knew if she were going to run it had to be now.

"Don't, Sophie."

"Don't what, you wretched bounder?"

"Try to run again. I locked the bedchamber door."

This was ridiculous. She knew it and so did he. She closed her eyes a moment, then slowly she turned to face him. "Ryder," she said, "I don't want you to force me again. Please don't shame me or make me beg you."

"Lie down, Sophie. On your back."

She shook her head.

"Now, if you please. If you're good to me, I will tell you a story. Would you like that?"

"No," she said, but she lay down.

"Good." He leaned over her, looking down, study­ing her face. A beautiful face to him. He touched his fingertip to the tip of her nose. "I'm very glad you're here," he said.

"Why?"

"Because you're you and I managed quite by a wonderful stroke of luck to find you and I even had the good sense to marry you."

"That's absurd. I'm nothing, when will you admit it? You were simply caught up in a series of very strange happenings. You felt sorry for me, final­ly, nothing more. Your mother despises me. I don't belong here. Please, Ryder—"

"I was thinking about that," he said slowly, and his fingers continued to lightly touch her jaw, her nose, her mouth. "About not belonging here. You're right."

She froze, a blaze of unexpected pain going through her.

"No, no, you misunderstand. This isn't your home. Alex is the mistress here, though I imagine she must fight my mother to gain what she wishes, the poor girl. No, this isn't your home. I have a home, Sophie, in the Cotswolds, not far from Strawberry Hill. That's where my cousin, Tony Parrish, and his wife, Melissande, live."

"You have a home?"

"I've never lived there. It's called Chadwyck House. I visit it three or four times a year. There is a good deal of farm acreage and there are some twenty tenant families living there. I have a steward—a fellow named Allen Dubust—who deals with the daily affairs." He paused, frown­ing a moment. "I'm beginning to believe that a man should deal with his own affairs. What do you say, Sophie? Shall we go to Chadwyck House? Would you like to be the mistress of your own home?"

Her eyes had lightened. He wasn't mistaken about that. There was pleasure there that temporarily had tamped down her fear of him.

"Yes," she said only. She opened her mouth but he lightly touched his fingers over her lips.

"No, my dear, I know you would like to ask me all sorts of questions to keep me from making love to you. We will speak more of Chadwyck House afterward."

"I want you to stop reading my mind before I have a chance to do it properly for myself."

"I have this affinity for you. I can't seem to help myself. Now, Sophie, I want you to do me a favor."

She stared up at him, frozen and wary.

"I am your husband. I won't ever hurt you. I have your best interests at heart. Nod your head if you at least understand what I've said."

She nodded.

"Good, a healthy start. I want to make something else very clear to you. I will make love to you every night. I want you to become used to me, to trust me. I want to erase all the other men, I want you to simply dismiss all the meanness and violence of your uncle from your mind. I want you to think only of me, of us."

"It is very difficult."

"I know, but today you were a hellion again, a possessive wench, the savage Amazon who saved my hide in Jamaica from Thomas's knife. So I have hope. Now, let's get that nightgown off you. I want no clothes between us, Sophie, not at night, not when we're alone. I want to look at you. I want to feel your breasts in my hands."

"Ryder, I really don't want—"