Betrayed by Your Kiss (17 page)

Fiery flames licked with unrelenting intensity. With the slightest lift of his head, he ground his lips against hers, and she gave in to him.

Their mating was the violent clashing of two lost souls. Their passion frantic in every sense of the word. Not the slow, languorous sharing of emotion or the gentle giving of one’s self, but the needy taking of what would not be denied.

Damien opened his mouth beneath hers, thrusting his tongue inside her as if possessing her with his hands and mouth made him the victor. It was as if she’d awakened a sleeping dragon, and she knew if she gave in to him now she would be the loser.

He deepened his kisses, demanding more than she thought she could give. His hands roamed over her body, touching her with an intimacy that set her ablaze. With each touch, he took her closer to the edge of a precipice, expecting her to leap with him into the unknown where they would spiral downward toward a promise of physical release.

But only one of them would survive the fall. And it would not be her.

With the strength of someone fighting for her life, she pushed away from him and rushed from the bed. Her legs were weak beneath her, and she stumbled once before reaching out for a cushioned armchair near the wall. She leaned against it while gasping for air. His voice hit her with the force of an unexpected blow.

“I will get the special license tomorrow and we’ll be married one week from today.”

Olivia closed her eyes to block out the burgeoning regrets swarming before her. She knew what it was like to be loved by Damien. She remembered it from before.

There was no love in what they’d just shared, only lust. There was no emotion in the words he’d spoken. Only a demand.

It left an emptiness she knew would never go away.

Olivia sat in the darkness and listened to the familiar creaks and groans of a house long asleep. She couldn’t sleep, not when every time she closed her eyes, the feel of Damien’s lips against hers brought her instantly awake. Not when every time the thought of how completely she’d given herself to him enveloped her with a sense of loss. She’d give the world to believe she had the power to break down the barrier that guarded his heart and kept her from getting close to him.

Olivia leaned her head back against the cushion of her chair and closed her eyes. She heard another moan from Damien’s room and knew he was having a restless night. She would not be so foolish as before and rush to him. Not unless he really needed her. Not after what had happened the last time. And especially after what had happened earlier in the day.

Olivia had no doubt if he kissed her again, she wouldn’t have the willpower to stop him. She wouldn’t
want
to stop him.

If only she didn’t love him so desperately. If only she could remain as detached as Damien. But she couldn’t.

Nor could she ignore the growing desperation in the sounds coming from his room. She tried to ignore the hurt she heard, tried to hold herself back from going to him. But as if her feet had a will of their own, they carried her across the room and down the hall.

She opened his door and stood on the other side of the room, her eyes focusing on where he lay in his bed.

“Damien?”

She stepped farther into the room and called his name again.

“Damien. Are you awake?”

She heard him suck in a sharp breath as if she’d startled him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re having a nightmare. Are you in pain?”

“No, I—”

He suddenly flew forward, clutching his leg. His cry was filled with torment. Olivia raced over to the bed.

“Where does it hurt?”

She threw the covers from him and pushed his hands away from his calf. He flopped back against the mattress and threw his arm over his eyes. Olivia worked the knot in his leg until her fingers ached, and only when she felt him relax did she lighten her touch.

“Is it better?”

“Ah, hell,” he growled, lifting his arm from over his eyes. “I haven’t had a cramp that bad for a long time.”

“You overdid it, and your legs are letting you know.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Olivia gently rubbed both his legs a little longer then pushed herself off the bed. A thousand firelights of emotion sparked between them, and an instant wash of liquid heat raced through her body, sucking her under, stealing her breath. She needed to get away from him before she was consumed by the need surging through her. “Do you want something for the pain before I leave?”

“No. It’s better now. Thank you.”

Olivia turned and stepped away from him. “I’ll go back to bed then. Call if you need something.”

Her legs trembled as she walked away from him. How many times would she have to touch his flesh, then walk away as if such intimacy didn’t leave an ache deep inside her? How many times could she lie to herself and pretend she wasn’t affected by such closeness? How many times would just being near him set her body on fire with a heat that burned from the inside out? A heat she knew there was only one way to extinguish, and if she ever yielded to the temptation, all that would be left would be an emptiness that would never go away.

“Olivia, don’t leave.”

She walked a little faster, needing to separate herself from him. Needing to put enough space between them so she wasn’t tempted to run back into his arms. She almost ran the last few steps and reached out for the handle to the door with a frantic desperation.

“Liv, please.”

She froze with her hand on the knob and shook her head. She couldn’t stay. She would only be hurt if she did.

She heard the rustle of the sheets and covers and knew he’d gotten out of bed. She heard his uneven gait as he crossed the room. Her breath caught in her throat when the heat from his body pressed against her.

His breath brushed against her neck and his arms snaked around her waist from behind, and he pulled her against him.

“Stay with me, Liv.”

Olivia turned in his arms. “Why, Damien?”

When he didn’t answer her, she cupped her palm against his scarred cheek, hoping he’d realize with her actions that his disfigurement didn’t matter to her. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Why, Damien?”

“Because I want you.”

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut tight. He hadn’t said, “Because I
need
you.” He hadn’t said, “Because I
love
you.”

Olivia waited, praying that Damien would amend his words, would show some sign that he cared for her. Because he had feelings for her. She prayed that he’d give some indication that he wanted more than a partner for his physical needs. Needs a common whore could satisfy as well as she.

But he said nothing.

Olivia knew a loneliness unlike anything she’d ever imagined.

With trembling hands, she pushed away and let herself out of the room.

Chapter 20

Damien paced his bedroom with long, agitated steps. It had been hours since she’d left him, and he could barely survive the guilt gnawing away at him. From the second she closed the door behind her, a part of him wanted to go to her. Another part warned him to stay away.

Bloody hell! How could he live with what he was doing to her? How could he survive another night like the one he’d just shared with her without risking his heart? He knew she’d wanted to hear words he couldn’t say, declarations of love he wouldn’t allow himself to make. But he couldn’t. He’d learned long ago what happened when he expected the person to whom he’d given his heart to love him as desperately as he loved her.

He forced himself to remember waking up aboard the
Princess Anne
and struggling to survive the betrayal that had nearly killed him. Well, it wouldn’t happen a second time. She’d never hear those words from him again.

He grabbed his navy jacket from the back of the chair and shoved his arms through the sleeves. He’d thought it would be so easy. Thought he’d been ready to take her as his wife without risking his heart in the process. But that was before he’d held her in his arms. Before he’d kissed her.

Damien gave his satin cravat another tug and took a final look in the mirror. His gaze moved to the side of his face where the scar marred his features. He wore it like a trophy to remind him of what she’d done. A shield that would repulse her so she’d shy away from the sight of him.

Instead, she hardly seemed to notice. And last night, with his face mere inches from hers, she’d pressed her palm against his cheek, as if her touch could somehow erase his imperfections. Then she’d kissed him. She’d pressed her lips against his disfigured flesh while begging him with her eyes to tell her that he loved her.

Damien turned away from the mirror and walked out the door.

He raked his fingers through his hair and put the wall around his heart firmly back in place, then walked toward the stairs. He’d only taken the first step down before he stopped short. Olivia was below him, walking to the door.

“It’s rather early to be going out, isn’t it?”

She stopped, then looked up at him with eyes open wide in surprise. His heart jolted in his chest.

Her face was pale and dark circles rimmed her eyes. He could tell she’d slept as little as he had, but there was no triumph in knowing that. Except, it wasn’t the lack of color to her cheeks that bothered him. It was the weary look in her eyes. Eyes that were at first void of all emotion, then sparked with an emotion he wished he hadn’t been able to read.

“I’m going out, my lord. Down to Pellingsworth Shipping, if you must know.”

“Yes, Olivia. I must know. And I don’t think you should—”

She stopped his words with a hostile glare and a quick step closer. “Pellingsworth Shipping is mine! For six more days it is mine! And I will go there when I want!”

Damien noticed how close to the surface her temper seemed to hover. He held up his hands in surrender. There was something very disturbing about the frantic tone in her voice. He stepped closer to her and softened his voice.

“Then at least take someone with you. One of the footmen.”

“There’s no need. It’s broad daylight. My cousin will hardly risk showing his face in the daylight.”

“I realize that. I would just—”

He stopped when she scowled at him a final time, then she turned away and walked toward the door.

“Olivia.”

She stopped.

“We’ll attend the opera tonight. Society expects to see us together.”

“I’m not concerned with what—”

Damien held up his hand to stop her refusal. “I would like to go. It’s been a long time since I’ve been, and I’d like you to go with me.”

He saw her features soften, then saw her shoulders sag as she capitulated. She didn’t answer in words, only nodded, before leaving the house.

Damien walked across the foyer and into the dining room where breakfast was waiting on the sideboard. He filled a plate then sat.

“Did she eat?” he asked when Chivers placed a plate of tea cakes on the table within reach.

“No, my lord. I believe all the lady had was a cup of tea.”

Damien sighed heavily. “Have Cook pack a light lunch. And put some of these in with it,” Damien said, sliding the plate of cakes over to Chivers.

“Very good, my lord.”

Damien had just finished his meal when Chivers came back with a small box containing the food Cook had packed.

“I took the liberty of having a carriage brought round, my lord.”

“Thank you, Chivers. I have an appointment with my solicitor, and when I’m finished, I need to stop by my townhouse in Mayfair. It will be some while before I’ll be free to go to the shipping office myself. Send one of the footmen to keep an eye on Lady Olivia until I get there.”

“Very well, my lord.”

“And tell him if he values his life, he won’t let her see him.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Damien pushed his plate away and walked to the door where Chivers was waiting with his cloak and hat. And a cane.

Damien hesitated, then took it. His legs were stronger than yesterday, but he was still a little unsteady. “Thank you, Chivers.”

“Have a good day,” Chivers said, closing the door behind him.

Damien leaned on the cane as he walked down the path to the waiting carriage. He leaned back against the maroon velvet cushion and remembered the determined expression on Olivia’s face when she left.

. . . it is mine. For six more days it is still mine!

Did she really think he would forbid her to go to the shipping office after her father’s will became final?

A heavy pressure weighed against his chest. She did. She thought when her father’s will took effect she would lose everything: the ships, the land, the estates. Everything she’d taken care of for the last four years. Everything she loved. Because that’s the impression he’d given her.

That had been his original intent. Now . . .

Damien knew he was weakening in his resolve to make her pay for what she’d done to him. The more he was with her, the more impossible it was to think of exacting revenge for what she’d done. The love he’d felt for her before she’d betrayed him was surfacing again. His desperation to be with her, to take care of her, to have her in his life, was all that was important. No matter how hard he tried to keep from loving her, he couldn’t. His heart wasn’t dead like he thought it was. And she still possessed it.

The carriage stopped in front of Cyrus Haywood’s office, and it took longer than Damien thought to make sure the shipping concerns as well as the estates were left in Olivia’s care should anything happen to him. He knew how unexpectedly disaster could strike and wanted to make sure his papers were in order so she and any heirs they had would always be provided for. He picked up the special marriage license from Cyrus Haywood and rode the short distance to his townhouse.

He hadn’t visited with his mother as much as he should have since his return and wanted to stop to see her, as well as make sure his cousin had moved out. He’d also told Henry Lockling that he wanted to see him. This seemed the best place for the meeting.

Burnes, the butler, had the door open before he reached the house.

“Good day, Lord Iversley.”

“Good day, Burnes. Is my mother in?”

“Yes, my lord. She’s in the morning room.”

“Thanks, Burnes. I’ll see myself there.” Damien walked down the hall to the morning room.

“Very well, my lord. Will you need fresh tea sent up?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be staying that long.”

When he reached the morning room, he knocked once, then entered.

“Damien,” his mother said with a smile on her face. “What a nice surprise. I didn’t know you were coming.”

Damien walked across the room and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I just wanted to stop by and make sure my cousin has moved out.”

“Yes, Damien. I’m not sure what you said to Brian, but he arrived in quite a huff, ordered his belongings packed, and left without even saying goodbye.”

Damien sat on the sofa near his mother. “I’m glad I was effective.”

“You certainly were.”

“Now, tell me about Penelope. Is she in?”

“No. Two friends stopped by earlier, and they went for a stroll through the park.”

“What two friends?” Damien asked.

“Two very
acceptable
female friends, Damien,” his mother answered with a smile. “They are having their coming-out this year, too.”

“I assume you sent a reliable chaperone with her, too?” he said.

“Nanny Graybill,” his mother answered.

Damien smiled. “I won’t worry, then, Mother.”

“Not with Nanny Graybill anywhere near. There’s no need.”

“No, no need.” Damien stretched his cramped legs out in front of him. “Now, what young man has caught Penelope’s eye?”

“Viscount Claremont.”

Damien tried to place the name. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with Claremont. What do you know about him?”

“He’s the Earl of Pendent’s heir.”

The name registered immediately.

His mother’s smile broadened. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Yes. If Claremont is anything like his father, Penelope has made an excellent match.”

“He is,” his mother assured him. “I couldn’t have picked anyone more perfect if the choice had been mine.”

“Has Claremont mentioned that his feelings for Penelope are serious?”

“Not in so many words. But he did compliment me on having a wonderful daughter, and mentioned that he thought Penelope would make a perfect Viscountess.”

Damien had been sitting long enough and needed to stretch his legs. He rose from the sofa and walked to the window and looked out. “Let me know when he’s ready to speak with me.”

“Why?” his mother asked. “So you can frighten him off?”

Damien looked over his shoulder and focused on his mother. There was a smile on her face. “I’m glad to see you weren’t serious,” he said.

“I was, to a certain extent, Damien. You need to learn to smile at least a little. I’m sure Olivia would appreciate seeing a smile on your face.”

Damien turned to watch out the window.

“Have the two of you set a date for your wedding?”

Damien braced his hand on the side of the window. “Probably within the week,” he said, knowing they didn’t have much time. “It will be a private affair. I’ve acquired a special license.”

“And do you intend to invite me to this private affair?”

Damien pushed away from the window. “Yes, Mother. I’ll let you know the time and date so you can be there.”

“Thank you, Damien. I would appreciate being in attendance when my only son marries.”

There was a knock on the door, and Burnes announced that Henry Lockling was here to see him, and that he’d put him in the study. Damien rose and kissed his mother’s cheek. “I need to meet with my steward,” he said. “Then I’ll be on my way. But I’ll come again soon.”

His mother reached for his hand and held it. “I wish you could come to task with whatever’s bothering you, Damien. I hate seeing you so unhappy.”

“Who told you I was unhappy?”

“No one had to tell me,” his mother answered. “A mother knows when one of her children is troubled. And you are exceedingly troubled.”

Damien gave his mother’s fingers a gentle squeeze, then walked away from her. “Don’t worry, Mother. It’s just the newness of being back after being gone so long.”

Damien walked to the door, but heard his mother’s last words before he left: “I wish that’s all it was.”

“So do I, Mother,” he whispered as he made his way to the study. Henry Lockling rose when he entered.

“Mr. Lockling,” Damien greeted, then walked to the chair behind his desk.

“Lord Iversley. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”

“I can imagine you are. I must apologize for leaving you with so much responsibility for so long. But I’m prepared to assume the running of the estates now so you will not have so much to do.”

“Of course I’m relieved that you have returned, my lord, but things have run relatively smoothly in your absence.”

Damien was glad to hear Mr. Lockling say things were in good order, but he knew that wasn’t entirely true. How could it be with no one to manage the accounts, or give the orders as to what improvements needed to be made? “I’m sure you did as much as you were able without anyone to make the major decisions.”

Lockling twisted the old cap he always wore. “I’d like to take credit for the running of Iversley Estate and the rest,” he said, not lifting his head enough to meet Damien’s gaze, “but I can’t.”

“And why is that?” Damien asked.

“Because . . .” Lockling hesitated, then lifted his gaze. “You have to understand, my lord. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, but since you’re so close to the lady, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Is the she you’re talking about Lady Olivia?”

“Yes, your lordship. It’s Lady Olivia, and she’s done a remarkable job with the estates. Her improvements have made the estate more profitable than ever, and have allowed the tenants to fix up their homes more often.”

Damien paused to let Lockling’s words sink in. “Exactly what improvements did Lady Olivia make?”

“Well, there’s the drainage ditch she had built on the north corner of Cardonbury estate. That part of your estate has never been too profitable because of its lack of water. But for the past two years we’ve been able to grow an abundant crop of barley, which we’ve sold to the Burmham Brewery.

“And three years ago, she purchased a small herd of sheep, mostly Lincoln and Leicester Longwool.”

“Sheep?”

“Yes, my lord. This year we’ll harvest our second season of wool and take it to market. It’s been quite profitable, if I may say so.”

Damien tried not to look too shocked. “What else has Lady Olivia done?”

“Not too much, other than taking care of the estate books, and deciding on the crop rotation, and terracing two of the hillier fields. That’s made a remarkable difference with runoff. And we’ve just started construction on a new barn next to William Proctor’s. It will mostly be used to store wool from a new breed of sheep she bought two years ago.”