Read A Risk Worth Taking Online
Authors: Laura Landon
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General
He hesitated. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what I said?”
“Not all of it,” she slurred. “I dreamt you were telling me to wake up.”
“I was. You aren’t going to go back to sleep, are you?”
She opened her eyes but did not look at him. “No. I’m awake. I have one or two points I would still like to make.”
“And they are?”
“I want you to take back the money you settled on me.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I will not accept your money, Griff. I am not such a terrible catch that I will only find a husband who will marry me for the dowry you provided.”
“That wasn’t my intent. I only wanted the world to know your value. Providing you a dowry was the only way I knew how.”
“That’s not what it seems. When I find someone who will take me, I want to know it was not your money that purchased him for me.”
“Do you have someone in mind?”
She turned her head and looked at him. Their gazes locked for a long minute before she turned away. The expression in her eyes was a little sadder than before. “Perhaps. Are you going to interfere?”
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. Dear God, but he hurt. Like someone had just ripped his heart from his chest. “No. I will leave the choice to your good judgment and wish you all the happiness in the world.”
He rose from his chair. “I’m going to get Patience now. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t tell her you are recovered.” He walked to the door, the ache in his chest almost greater than he could stand. “Don’t go back to sleep before she gets here.” He opened the door to leave, but her soft voice stopped him.
“You aren’t coming back, are you?”
He paused with his hand on the latch. “No. It’s not safe.”
“Safe for whom?”
“You, Anne. And me.”
He wanted to leave, but something kept him there. There was a question he needed to ask. “Would you answer me just one question before I leave?”
He couldn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see the relief in her eyes if she was glad he was leaving. Or the sadness if she didn’t want him to go.
“Yesterday you said the reason you regretted kissing me was not because it had been so terrible, but because I took a part of you that you didn’t realize you had been guarding with such care. Something you didn’t realize you would miss so desperately when it was gone. What did I take from you, Annie?”
For a long time she didn’t answer. When she did, her voice was soft and she sounded terribly, terribly tired.
“It was nothing, Griff. Nothing I cannot learn to live without.”
Griff couldn’t bring himself to press her further.
“Good-bye, Anne,” he whispered.
He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, closing himself off from the one person whose loss he would never get over.
S
he hurt like she never thought it was possible to hurt. The cuts and bruises from the accident three weeks ago were long gone, but not the ache deep inside her heart—the ache that Griff had caused when he had walked away from her without a backward glance.
She cursed him. She cursed herself. Why had she allowed this to happen? Why had she fallen in love with him? He was exactly the kind of man she swore she would never trust with her heart—a man like her father, who would always want a drink more than he wanted a wife and a family. For all she knew, he’d gone back to drinking already. Her father had never been able to stop for more than a few weeks at a time.
Knowing that it had been so easy for him to walk away from her—not once, but twice—was what had given her the strength to accept the Earl of Portsmouth’s proposal when he’d asked.
Thanks to Griff, it was impossible to marry for love.
Portsmouth seemed a kind and gentle man. Perhaps she would find happiness of a different nature. He would give her children to love and care for. He’d made no secret of it. He had three grown daughters from his first marriage, but he wanted an heir, a son. She would give him his heir,
and a house full of children besides. Being his wife would give her the security she wanted. And with the earl’s wealth and position, Becca was assured a good match.
Anne laid down the embroidery she was working on and walked to the parlor window to look out over the garden. Patience had gone to a tea at Lady Wimpley’s, but she had stayed home. The Earl of Portsmouth was scheduled to come later this afternoon to discuss the terms of the marriage with Adam, and they thought it best if she were here in case there were any points that needed clarifying.
It sounded so cold, and she supposed in a way it was. But then, neither of them was marrying for love. The earl had made that plain before he’d asked her to be his wife.
He still loved his first wife, and even though she’d been gone for more than five years, he hadn’t gotten over her and said he probably never would. Just as she was sure she would ever get over Griff.
In time, she prayed things would be different. She couldn’t imagine living with such pain for the rest of her life.
Anne leaned her shoulder against the window frame to watch a squirrel scamper about in the garden, but jumped with a start when the door behind her flew open.
The force of the heavy oak door being opened, then the loud crash of it being slammed shut startled her. She turned to face the intruder.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Anne?”
Her gaze locked with Griff’s.
He stood on the other side of the room, his hair mussed, his face shadowed as if he hadn’t shaved yet today. His eyes blazed with blinding fury. His anger was palpable.
He wore no jacket or cravat, and his white linen shirt hung loose at the neck in a casual, unkempt way. He was ruggedly handsome, and she was reminded again of how much he meant to her. Her heart leaped with excitement before it resumed a rapid beating.
“Tell me you don’t intend to marry him. Not Portsmouth! Tell me I heard wrong. That you wouldn’t do something so foolish.”
She lifted her chin. “I
do
intend to marry him, Mr. Blackmoor. And I do
not
consider the match foolish.”
“He’s an old man.”
“He’s not that old.”
“He will never love you. Anyone who knows him knows he’s never gotten over his first wife’s death. He’ll never love you!”
“Perhaps I don’t need love.”
“You do! You need love as much as you need air to breathe. You won’t survive without it. I know you won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know because I’ve held you. I’ve kissed you. And you’ve kissed me back. I know what we shared. That one kiss barely released the tip of the vast emotions you have stored inside you. The passion you have buried needs to be given to someone.”
“No! That kiss was a mistake. You said so yourself. I don’t need anything more than what the earl can give me.”
“And what is that?”
“A home. Children to love. The ability to provide a good match for Rebecca.”
“That’s not enough!”
“It will have to be!”
“No!
There is so much more. You have to marry a man who can unlock your heart and release the emotions you have never let people see. A man who can make you burn with his touch and set you on fire with his kisses.”
“Stop it!”
He crossed the room and grabbed her by the shoulders. He held her close. “You will never feel anything for him, Anne. He’s cold, with the zest for life already burned out of him. You need someone who can show you the wonders of love. The rewards.”
She struggled to get out of his arms, but he wouldn’t release her. “Don’t do this, Anne. There’s so much more.”
“No. I will be content with what he can give me. A love that sets your flesh on fire only happens in fairy tales. It doesn’t happen to plain, ordinary people like me. I’ll be happy with what the earl can give me. It will be enough.”
He pulled her hard against him. “Ah, Annie. No. You deserve more. So much more.”
“Griff, don’t. It’s no use. It’s too late for us. What we did before was a mistake. You said so yourself.”
“I know,” he said on a breathless sigh.
He looked at her mouth as if it were the forbidden fruit, then clamped his hands on either side of her face.
“And I’m about to make an even bigger mistake.”
He brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her hard. The gentle passion she remembered from the last time he’d kissed her was not there this time. He ground his mouth against hers with a frantic desperation she understood. It matched her own desires.
Why did his kisses have to be like this, all turmoil and chaos and violent thunderstorm? Why did his arms have to
be the only arms that burned her flesh and made her feel safe? Why was Griff the man to whom she wanted to give all that she had to offer, with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life?
She opened her mouth beneath his and he deepened his kiss. He penetrated her warmth and she met him, her tongue touching his, battling his, mating with his.
Some of the pins in her hair fell to the floor as he raked his fingers through her loose curls, caressing her scalp, holding her closer to him. And still he kissed her deeper, until she was on fire.
Every inch of her burned, from the tip of her head to that mysterious spot deep in the pit of her belly. She was hot as if the gates of hell had opened, and that is where she was afraid she was going.
His touch frightened her. His kisses terrified her. Yet she knew she could not stop him. She did not want to stop him.
She felt his touch on her arms, and her back, and lower, pulling her hard against him. His lips touched her cheek, and her neck just below her ear. Her gown slipped from her shoulder and he kissed her there. Cool air struck her and his warm mouth kissed her flesh at the top of her breast, stopping when her confining chemise would let him go no further.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him to her, begging him to show her what it could be like.
He brought his mouth up to hers again and kissed her, deeper than before. With more desperation than before.
How could it be like this? She couldn’t breathe. She was too weak to stand. And she didn’t have the ability to put two coherent thoughts together. She couldn’t do anything
but hold on to him and run her fingers across his muscled shoulders and chest.
“Griff! What the bloody hell are you doing?” Adam’s voice raged from behind them.
Griff lifted his mouth from hers and stiffened beside her.
She couldn’t stop the tiny gasp that escaped her.
Neither of them could breathe. Their gasps were ragged and harsh.
“Are you all right?” he whispered, then ran his fingers over her hair to smooth it.
She nodded.
He dropped his hands from her and turned to face their intruders. When he turned, Anne got her first look at the men on the other side of the room—Griff’s brother, Lord Covington, and the Earl of Portsmouth.
Covington wore an angry scowl. The Earl of Portsmouth’s face was an unreadable mask.
For several long minutes, no one spoke. The Earl of Portsmouth was the first to break the silence.
“I’m afraid we have a problem, Covington. You failed to mention that the woman I had asked to take as my wife was involved with your brother. Who, I might add, spent numerous weeks living under your roof.”
The muscles in Adam’s jaw clenched. “I assure you, Portsmouth, the lady’s reputation is beyond reproach.”
“Is it?”
“That’s enough,” Griff said, his voice low and angry.
Portsmouth stiffened, his demeanor taking on a hint of anger. This reaction was the first emotion she’d seen from him.
“You
will have to excuse me,” he said. “The display I witnessed when I walked into the room hardly assures me that my intended is the paragon of virtue I was led to believe she was.”
Portsmouth turned his attention to her, scanning her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. She knew her hair was tangled from Griff raking his fingers through it, and her gown was still slightly askew, with a button near the top gaping open. Her cheeks burned like fire and her lips felt swollen and abused. She had no doubt she looked thoroughly wanton. Used.
Portsmouth pulled his gaze away from her and turned to Adam. “You understand anything we discussed earlier is no longer valid.” The tone of his voice held a strained emotion.
“Of course,” Adam replied.
“I consider the matter closed, and bid you good day.” He turned to leave, then paused at the door. He turned to address Griff. “I will anticipate word of your upcoming nuptials. I’m sure you will not want to wait for the reading of the banns.”
She saw Griff nod and felt a heavy rock fall to the pit of her stomach.
The earl walked out of the room, and Adam followed.
“No, Griff,” she started to argue when they were alone. “We don’t have to—”
“Shh. It’s too late.”
“No. It’s not too late. We can—”
He held out his hand to stop her, then pulled her in his arms and held her to him. “God help you, Anne. You are mine to protect now.”