Scandalous Deception (Russian Connection 1)
“Fear of what?”
“Fear that I am destined to destroy anyone I love. After my parents…”
“Edmond,” she interrupted his anguished words, her arms lifting to encircle his neck as she pressed closer to his tense body.
“No, allow me to finish,” he whispered, his hand skimming up the curve of her back to tangle in her curls. “After my parents drowned, I blamed myself.”
Her heart squeezed in sympathy. “It was nothing more than a tragic accident.”
He absently rubbed his cheek against the top of her head, his whiskers tugging on the silky strands of her hair and his male scent clinging to her skin with familiar warmth.
“Logically, I understand that, but a part of me will always believe that, if I had not gotten into trouble with the Magistrate, they would still be alive.” The fingers at the curve of her back tightened with a flare of painful emotion. “And that I do not deserve to care for another.”
Brianna buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder, unable to endure the thought of the endless years he had punished himself.
“And now?”
“And now, I realize that I am far too selfish to deny my need for you. Perhaps I should be condemned to hell for my past, but I am desperately hoping that I am to be blessed instead.” Pulling back, he regarded her with a wistful smile that could have melted a heart chiseled from granite. “Brianna, say that you will be my wife.”
The heady, intoxicating joy that flooded through her body was nearly her undoing. She wanted to say yes. For all her bold determination to become a woman of independence, she was learning that being utterly alone was a rather high price to pay for peace.
“Brianna?”
She slowly shook her head, schooling her features to hide the longing that clenched her heart.
“I cannot answer in this moment, Edmond. I need time to think.”
He stilled, his gaze boring deep into her wide, wary eyes. But instead of anger, his eyes slowly darkened and his hands tightened as a wicked smile curved his lips.
“If my words will not sway you, my stubborn beauty, then perhaps I can find another means to convince you.”
With a soft tug on her curls, Edmond angled her head backward, his smoldering gaze lingering on the color blooming beneath her cheeks and the soft curve of her lips as they parted in silent invitation. Only when she arched restlessly against his hard body did Edmond at last lower his head and kiss her with a sweet yearning that made her heart melt.
He kept kissing her for a long time, one hand threading through her loose curls while the other splayed over the curve of her bottom. His lips moved lingeringly from her mouth to sweep over her face, nipping at her earlobe before he buried his face in her hair.
“Make no mistake, you will be my wife, Brianna,” he said huskily, his breath hot against the curve of her neck. “I will never let you escape me. Never.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
London, England
Three months later
LADY ABERLANE’S LONDON town house in St. James’s Square was a long, narrow building with a profusion of Corinthian pilasters and marble floors and elegant Venetian windows. Despite the rigid elegance, however, the older woman had managed to create an atmosphere of comfort that instantly made Brianna feel at home.
Which would perhaps explain why she was still happily settled with the older woman rather than seeking out her own establishment, Brianna acknowledged, nibbling on a piece of toast as she awaited her hostess to join her in the pale blue breakfast room decorated with rare silver furniture.
When Edmond had grudgingly given in to her demands to return to England, it was at his insistence she stay with the noblewoman. He pointed out that Brianna was far too weary from the grueling journey to adequately deal with the tedious business of purchasing a house. And since she truly had been exhausted by the frozen, at times dangerous, travel from St. Petersburg to London, Brianna had not protested.
Now, however, she was fully recovered, and a part of her knew that she had no further reason to linger. Nothing beyond the pleasure of Letty’s charming companionship and the incessant attentions of Edmond.
She had expected the gentleman to quickly weary of his pursuit once they had returned to England. Not only were there any number of beautiful women to distract him, but her residence beneath Letty’s roof meant that they were unable to exchange more than a chaste kiss. She, better than anyone, knew he was a man of strong passions. It would have been a simple matter for him to discover another to replace her.
But far from wearied, Edmond seemed more determined than ever to convince her that his attentions were sincere.
Each morning, a prettily wrapped gift was waiting her on the breakfast table, and every afternoon at the precisely proper hour, he called to pay his respects, always bringing her favorite pink roses until they threatened to consume Letty’s front parlor.
It was…well, it was romantic.