“Your tongue was in my mouth, precious. ” He sounded bored. He reached down and adjusted himself, drawing her eyes to the part she didn’t want to think about. “No one forced you to do that. You were aroused, and in another minute I would have had you in that chair. I do promise to make up for it eventually—we have any number of excellent chairs in my house upon which to experiment. ”
She couldn’t find the words. She’d wagered and lost, though she couldn’t quite believe it. In truth, her skin still longed for his touch, her mouth for his kiss. Perhaps he’d drugged her. Perhaps she’d gone mad. It didn’t matter: she had lost.
She realized then that her dress was gaping open, and she swiftly began to button it again. “It is a great deal unfortunate that I didn’t wear something a bit more difficult for you to deal with,” she said in what she hoped was an icy voice. She couldn’t ignore the raw undertone to it.
“My precious, I could get you out of full court dress in seconds flat if I so desired,” he said, pouring himself a glass of wine. It was as if those hot, fevered moments in the chair hadn’t existed. If she hadn’t felt the evidence of his arousal she would have thought this was all a game to him. “But I think we’ll wait to consummate our grand passion until we’re legally wed. In the meantime we s
till have the problem of your friend. And I must confess I’ve never found threesomes to be particularly satisfying. I do a much better job concentrating on one woman at a time. ”
How did he still manage to shock her? she wondered. “She’s sick. Send her back home with an escort,” she said, then paused. “Do that much for me. ”
“But, darling Miranda, have I ever expressed any desire to do anything for you?” he said mildly.
“It would make life easier for you. ”
“And have I ever expressed an interest in doing things the easy way? If I preferred simple efficiency I would have killed your brother Benedick the moment I arrived in England. He was lucky I was in the tropics when my sister died—it gave me time for my initial rage to pass and for me to come up with a plan. ”
She stared at him, hating him, hating the fact that her breasts still tingled and she wanted to rub them against him. She kept her hands fisted in her lap. “I made a very great mistake with Christopher St. John,” she said. “I didn’t fight him. I knew he was going to bed me and there was no way I could stop him, so I didn’t struggle. Not until later, when I couldn’t stand it anymore. That’s not going to happen this time. I won’t lie down for you, and I won’t let you rape me. ”
“Haven’t I just demonstrated that it won’t be rape?” He almost purred the words. “Don’t worry, your nonvirginal body is safe from me for the time being. When I take you the first time I intend to do a proper job of it. You’ve only had a taste of what I can do. ”
She wanted to cry. He’d taken unfair advantage—he knew far more about women’s bodies than she did, even though she lived in one. He knew how to touch and where, how to kiss, how to arouse, when she had been so certain she’d be impervious.
She pulled together what little dignity she had left. “Are we continuing our journey tonight?”
“We are. I will be joining you and Miss Pagett in the carriage. My leg is beginning to pain me, and I prefer to begin my wedded life in good health. Don’t worry, precious. I won’t tell Miss Pagett that I almost made you climax. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
Nearly anything could be used as a weapon. But there was nothing around for her.
He rose, and she realized he’d left his walking stick behind. He favored one leg, but he still managed to move with a sinuous grace that belied his usual appearance.
“Just how bad is your leg? You’re scarcely as crippled as you pretend. ”
“You’ll find, my sweet, that little about me is as it appears. I broke my leg when I was younger and it was set badly. I don’t let it trouble me. ”
“Then why don’t you continue the journey on horseback?”
“Because I don’t wish to,” he said in the softest, sweetest voice. “Accept it, Miranda. You lost the wager, and you’re wasting time fighting me. ”
“It’s not in my nature to give up. ”
He had come even with her, and he paused, looking down at her. “And that’s why you’re so irresistible,” he said.
Lucien walked out into the cool night air, breathing deeply. It was astonishing how much Miranda Rohan aroused him. His hands were shaking with the need to touch her, and controlling himself a few minutes ago had required more strength than he knew he had.
He should have just taken her. She was no shy virgin—he could thank Christopher St. John for his bungled part in that. She had rubbed against him, instinctively, helplessly, as he kissed her, and she was wet with longing. It would have taken a moment to release himself, and he could have plunged up into her, burying himself in her welcoming heat, holding her hips as he bucked and fucked and lost himself.
Bloody hell, he had to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t walk around with a perpetual hard-on. And yet, there was something wickedly enjoyable about being physically aroused and anticipating Miranda’s eventual surrender. Tonight had been a delicious taste of it.
There was an old saying: revenge is a dish that is best served cold. Who would have thought his revenge would be so deliciously hot and yielding?
Jane Pagett was a complication, but one he could deal with. Right now he was bone tired and ready to sleep in his expensive carriage. It was a long way to go, up into the Lake District to his secluded home by Ripton Waters, but once they reached it he could count on time to complete the coup de grace of this particular revenge. For now, he was ready to rest.
Miranda climbed back into the carriage, stifling her instinctive moan. No matter how comfortable a carriage, how gifted and smooth a driver, being cramped up in a small space for so long made her bones ache. Jane was already curled up in one corner, her sweet face creased with misery, her nose and eyes red. She’d finally realized just what a mess she was in, and there was nothing Miranda could do to reassure her. She took her hand and squeezed it as she took the seat beside her, and Jane managed a weak smile in return. Until the carriage dipped slightly and Lucien climbed in, taking the seat opposite them and stretching out his long legs with a sigh.
The door was closed, plunging them into darkness, and a moment later they were moving once more.