Desire (Notorious 3)

“That might be a solution,” Brynn replied slowly. “But I will have to see what Meg says first.”

“Speak to her, by all means. But in either case, there is no reason for you to use your pin money. My pockets are deep enough to provide a dowry for a serving maid.”

> “You would do that for her?”

“Not for her. For you.”

When she was silent, Lucian gave her a long look. “I’m not quite the villain you think me, love,” he said softly.

“I don’t think you a villain,” Brynn replied. Indeed, he was far kinder than she wanted him to be. And it was becoming increasingly impossible to remain impervious when Lucian wielded such weapons to assault her defenses.

She averted her gaze from his quietly measuring one. They might have determined a solution to her maid’s difficulty, but her own dilemma was becoming more profound by the minute.

If Brynn was torn by the incident, Lucian was more so. Their conversation rang in his head long after it had ended. Her passionate insistence that her maid be allowed to choose her future only drove home how he’d wronged Brynn when he bought her in marriage against her fervent protests, denying her the same choice.

He’d seen her as a prize to be claimed, thought only of his own wishes, determined to use his vast wealth or any other means necessary to assure victory.

He greatly regretted his arrogance now. He had underestimated Brynn from the first, viewing her merely as a temptress and a prime receptacle for his seed. But she was far more than a tempting, fertile body. It wasn’t surprising that she would be protective of her brothers, especially her youngest, but that she actually cared what happened to her dependents…

Lucian knew how unusual such compassion was. While beauty and good lineage-and even brains and spirit-were not uncommon attributes among the ladies of his acquaintance, a kind heart was a rarity.

Admittedly, Brynn’s unexpected depth made her all the more alluring. He’d never met another woman whose touch produced such a blaze of desire in him, and yet he had come to admire his bride as well as lust after her. He wanted her more deeply with each passing day.

Despite his fevered dreams of Brynn, wakening next to her was an unaccountable joy. Wrapped in flaming drifts of her hair, enveloped by her warmth and feminine scent, he felt a contentment that he had never before experienced. She was the most elusive woman he’d ever known-and her sheer elusiveness only strengthened his primitive urge to bind her to him in any way he could.

Getting her with child might provide that bond. Yet he wanted Brynn to want their child. To want their marriage. He wanted to win her affections.

It required every ounce of willpower he possessed to allow Brynn to dictate the pace. He had hoped that given time, she would realize that her fears were primarily in her mind. Yet he didn’t seem to be making much headway.

Dare was right, Lucian knew. He would have far better success in courting Brynn if he could get her alone. His London house was simply too full of servants and hangers-on to allow the kind of privacy that was conducive to courtship. His country seat would perhaps allow them more opportunity to be alone, but he couldn’t leave London just now when word of Caliban might come at any moment.

Thus far his best agents had failed to discover any further leads regarding the mastermind of the gold-smuggling ring. Philip Barton had returned from France empty-handed.

At least Dare had been enlisted to help flush out Lord Caliban’s identity. Dare had initially laughed at the notion of becoming a spy, but rather quickly he’d decided to view it as a challenge; pitting wits against an elusive, dangerous traitor was the ultimate game for him.

With Dare searching for Caliban, Lucian could devote himself to wooing his bride with a trace less guilt. And suddenly wooing Brynn had become the most important thing in the world to him.

Chapter Fifteen

Much to Brynn’s relief, her maid’s dilemma was easily solved. A generous dowry proved to be an excellent inducement for the girl’s lover to propose, while his employer was soon persuaded to give permission for the marriage. Meg expressed delight with the arrangement, for she wished to give her child a name. And her enthusiasm satisfied Brynn that the girl wasn’t being forced into an unwanted union.

Brynn’s own dilemma proved far harder to solve. In the days that followed, she found herself more conflicted than ever as she struggled against the desire assailing her heart. Lucian was wooing her, there was no doubt about it. What had started as a war of wills had become a determined courtship, simmering with a fiery passion that set their cold-blooded arrangement aflame.

Her husband, Brynn continued to discover, was a man of smoldering sexuality and insatiable appetites. He made love with tender savagery, for all his sophistication, but his untamed wildness only drove her to greater heights of rapture. And even in a mansion filled with retainers, he found opportunities for intimacy. He had only to touch her and the burning heat of his passion drove all thoughts of caution and curses from her mind.

It wasn’t solely Lucian’s passion, however, that she found so difficult to resist. Nor was it even his charm or warmth or tenderness. It was that he showed a genuine interest in her-quizzing her about her likes and dislikes, probing her dreams, asking about her life before meeting him.

Brynn tried to keep their conversations brief and unemotional, but Lucian’s perceptiveness was as keen as his persistence. He obviously noticed her melancholy when she spoke of her family, especially her youngest brother.

“You miss Theo, don’t you?” he asked one morning as they lay in bed after an exhausting bout of obligatory lovemaking.

She nodded. The frantic gaiety of the Little Season had begun in earnest, and she found plenty to occupy her time. And yet she did miss Theo dreadfully. “Very much.”

“Would you like to pay him a visit?”

Her eyes widened as she lifted her head from Lucian’s shoulder. “I would like that more than anything, Lucian. And I expect Theo will enjoy a holiday from his studies. His letters are cheerful enough, but I suspect he feels a trifle homesick.”

“I will be happy to escort you. We can travel next week, if you wish.”