He inspected several pantries and then the cellar, gathering items for a feast and returning to deposit his prizes on the table before her. Then he went around the kitchen, putting out all the lamps, leaving only the glow of the hearth fire to provide light.
“What the devil are you doing?” Arabella asked, her voice suddenly uneven.
“I told you, I intend to feed you.”
“In the dark?”
He smiled at her protest. “Not total darkness. I want to be able to see your pleasure as you savor each bite.”
His answer unnerved her, as did his next provocative comment when he settled on the bench beside her.
“This is much more intimate than the dining room, wouldn’t you agree?”
This setting was indeed far more intimate than before. Clearly her plan had backfired.
“Marcus, this is hardly proper…” she began breathlessly.
His midnight blue eyes gleamed at her. “Hush, sweeting, and take your punishment like a good sport.”
She had no choice but to comply, Arabella realized, swallowing the sudden dryness in her throat. She was keenly aware of Marcus’s potent masculinity as he leaned nearer, for she could feel his powerful thigh press against hers through her gown. The arousing contact sent heat coiling low in her belly and between her thighs, made her nipples tighten brazenly to hardened peaks.
What was worse, Marcus knew his effect on her, the fiend.
The pressure deliberately increased as he r
eached into a bowl and drew out a plump strawberry, the first of the season. Next he removed the cloth from another bowl and dipped the ripe fruit in clotted cream, then held the morsel to her lips.
He planned to serve her with his fingers, Arabella received.
She tried unsuccessfully to take the berry from him. “I can feed myself.”
“But it would not be nearly as enjoyable for either of us. Open your lovely mouth, Arabella, or I will have to kiss it open.” She chose the lesser of two evils, bending forward to bite off the fruit from the leafy stem. The tart-sweet burst of flavor in her mouth was delicious, reminding her that strawberries and cream was her favorite dessert. Yet she couldn’t enjoy the flavor, not with Marcus observing her so intently. His lips lifted in a slow, sultry smile as he watched her chew.
He fed her two more berries, until finally Arabella pushed his hand away. “Honestly, I am no longer hungry.”
“I am. Hungry for you.”
Her heart gave a fierce leap at his low murmur.
“I can imagine how delectable you would taste, love.”
Their gazes locked, and Arabella’s breath caught in her lungs. She had never felt this aching physical awareness before. Something tangible had kindled between them, and she couldn’t look away. She was experienced enough now to recognize the bright spark of desire that flared in Marcus’s blue eyes.
A shiver stole through her, even before he raised his finger to draw it along the wet line of her lips. “From now on, every time I watch you eat will be a taste of temptation.”
Her breath faltered entirely. Then his fingertips moved lower to touch the pulse quickening at the base of her throat. The tension thrumming between them was nearly unbearable.
Desperate to break it, Arabella surged to her feet. “I must go,” she exclaimed, yet she was prevented from fleeing for the door when Marcus caught her hand.
Laughter laced his voice as he protested, “But, darling, you have scarcely eaten a bite.”
“I have had more than enough, my lord!”
She snatched her hand from his grasp and escaped to the sound of his soft laughter. Her heart was still thudding moments later when she reached her bedchamber, her body still shivering with heat.
Arabella shut the door firmly behind her, then leaned weakly back against the panel. She was in serious trouble if she could not even withstand her first dinner with Marcus.
She had meant to foil his plan to woo her, but she had done a wretched job of it. Indeed, thus far she had come out the loser in every encounter with him.