Every Time We Kiss (13 page)

“Of course,” he said, sounding completely unconvinced.

Mr. and Mrs. Marston entered the salon just as she and Nicholas reached the threshold. Mrs. Marston’s eyes widened as she walked in the room. Her gasp made Jennette halt her stride. Dread filled her as she glanced back to see the Marstons staring at Matthew.

“Dear God, it’s true,” Mrs. Marston whispered.

“Get your bloody hands off my daughter,” Mr. Marston shouted.

Matthew stood rooted to the spot. Mary squeezed his arm, whether in fear or comfort, he didn’t know. He should have known everything was proceeding too well with her.

“Did you not hear me?” the man shouted again.

Mary slowly slid her arm out of his and took a step away. Her pallid face confirmed his initial thought—Mr. and Mrs. Marston had arrived.

“I meant no dishonor, sir,” Matthew replied.

“No dishonor?” Mrs. Marston said. “Did you actually think I would let a man like you near my daughter?”

Matthew quickly looked around the room and noticed nearly half the party was still in the salon, watching the sordid scene unfold.

“A man like me?” he asked in a quiet tone.

“A murdering blackguard!” she yelled.

Anger forced his hands into fists. He looked past the Marstons to see Jennette still clinging to the arm of the marquess. Her eyes were huge and full of sympathy. And the last thing he wanted from her was pity.

“Mary, get away from him,” Mrs. Marston said. “This man will never touch you again.”

“But Mother, he is not—”

“Do not disobey me,” Mrs. Marston interrupted.

“Yes, Mother.” Mary looked back at him and sent him a watery smile.

“As for you,” Mrs. Marston took a step forward. “How dare you show your face at a party for decent people? No one who knows what you did will ever let you back in Society. And my daughter won’t be a pawn to help you regain your position.”

“And you shall never get a farthing out of me,” Mr. Marston added.

Matthew inhaled deeply. One thing he’d learned after five years was to walk away. “As you wish,” he said with a nod.

“Murderer,” Mrs. Marston whispered loud enough for half the room to hear.

Several loud gasps circulated the room. Matthew walked toward the door where Jennette stood with her mouth agape.

“Don’t think everyone in the room doesn’t see the look you’re giving
her
,” Mrs. Marston’s acid voice sounded again. “To this day I will never understand how her reputation remained intact. In my opinion you ruined her and you will not do that to my daughter.”

Matthew blew out a loud breath and counted to ten.

“And you,” Mrs. Marston turned her attention to Jennette. “How could your mother allow you in the same room as this murderer? He killed your betrothed and almost ruined your name in the process. You’re no better than he is to allow this outrage!”

Matthew turned to Mrs. Marston with an icy fixed stare. “Malign my name all you wish,” he took a menacing step toward her, “but don’t ever spread your venom toward Lady Jennette.”

Mrs. Marston’s lips tilted upward in a cynical smile. “So the gossips were right about you loving her.”

God, he hated that rumor. Especially when it was the absolute truth. No matter how he tried to deny it, he’d loved Jennette even then.

He narrowed his eyes and blasted Mrs. Marston with another glare until her mouth dropped and she took a step backward into her husband’s chest. After sufficiently silencing her, he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding against his chest in futile anger. He was finished with this party and all others.

Ignoring the open stares and whispers, he walked down the hall. The burning, hostile looks only served to increase his anger and frustration. He should have known this mad idea of hers would never work. No one would ever forget what he’d done.

Only he hadn’t done anything.

Guilt etched through his mind. He’d spoken to her of his attraction that very morning. He had even kissed her for those brief few seconds. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?

It didn’t matter. She’d grabbed the sword out of his hand after he’d warned her not to. She had wanted to prove to him that she could do it.

The time had come to be finished with this self-castigating. He was through with the guilt. All he’d done was tell her how he felt that morning. Now he would marry her and never think of that day again.

It was her fault.

And she would be the one to pay for her actions. He was finished with her foolishness. Although she still had two weeks left to find him a wife, he knew she would never be able to succeed especially once this debacle traveled through the gossips. It was time to compromise her publicly and finish this farce.

The hell with the consequences. Her brother wouldn’t call him out. Selby would insist on a quick marriage to silence the gossips. And that was exactly what she was about to get.

After slamming the door to his room, he pulled out his valise. He had two weeks to get her compromised and the idea of staying in this damned house for one more instant held no appeal. Jennette would be back in town in a few days when the party ended. Then he would do what had to be done.

He yanked off his cravat and then his jacket before setting to work on his vest. Tossing the offending clothes on the bed, he then pulled his shirt over his head. He yearned to throw something far more substantial than a mere piece of linen. Unable to do anything else, he rolled his shirt into a ball and flung it across the room.

“I’m so sorry.”

In his impotent rage, he hadn’t even heard the door open. His head tilted backward as he stared at the ceiling. The hushed tones of her voice floated past him, caressing him, enticing him. But the last thing he wanted was to discuss anything with her. There would be plenty of time for talking after she became his wife.

“Leave me be,” he replied in a low voice.

“Matthew, please…I’m sorry,” she cried out from her position by the door.

“Get the bloody hell out of my room, Jennette. You’re only sorry because you witnessed firsthand what my life’s been like for the past five years.”

“I cannot do this any longer,” she whispered. “This is all my f—fault.”

“Yes, it is.” The moment the words were out, he regretted them.

“I have to fix this.”

He flexed his fists. “Nothing can ever mend this mess.”

“I know,” she cried. “It’s all my fault.”

Hearing the anguish in her voice, his heart softened. He knew if John hadn’t begged him to protect her, this scandal would have been over quickly. The
ton
would have understood what happened that day to be nothing more than an accident, but no one could understand
two
accidental deaths caused by him.

“No, it’s not your fault.”

“It is. I should never have let John do this to you. He had no right to make you his pawn.”

He knew without looking that she was crying. A part of him wanted to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. But he couldn’t because nothing would ever be all right again. His life was an utter disaster.

“I have to tell them,” she sobbed. “I have to let everyone know that I killed John.”

He spun around to face her and his heart ached. She covered her face with her hands as she slowly slid down the length of the door until she was crouched on her haunches.

“I have to tell them,” she mumbled into her hands.

“No, you will not,” he stated firmly before striding to her. He lifted her up and cupped her face with his hands. “I promised I would protect your name. You will never tell a soul what happened that morning.”

“But—”

“Never.” He stared into her watery, sapphire eyes until he wanted to drown in their depths. The pain he saw there broke his heart. He couldn’t let her feel such anguish over his name. He’d lived with this lie for five years. He could live with it forever as long as it didn’t touch her.

“It was wrong to let everyone believe such a horrid untruth,” she protested.

“You will not tell anyone.”

Before she could argue with him again, he lowered his lips to hers. Gently, he kissed her full lips, before moving to her salty cheeks. He wanted to comfort her, ease her pain and guilt. Kissing her tears away, he felt her shudder.

He was only kissing her to comfort her, he told himself. Make her feel better for the pain she’d caused him. Yet, the more her tongue touched his, the more he could care less about comforting her.

He wanted to feel her quiver under him in ecstasy as she reached her climax. He wanted to touch her small breasts, feel them, and suckle them until she gasped. Moving his lips back to hers, he pulled her against his bare chest. Her body molded to his as if made just for him.

Jennette moved her tongue against his as her need for comfort changed into so much more—desire. Yearning to feel his hard muscles on top of her, she skimmed her hands up his bare arms. His muscles tensed as she reached his shoulders and finally draped her arms around his bare neck. Arching her back, she sought comfort and passion from the one man she’d never expected to want her.

She shouldn’t want this from him. But she did. He was the only man who could absolve her guilt, lessen the pain she constantly fought.

She wanted to feel his muscles under her fingertips. She wanted to taste him. Trailing her lips across his cheek, she needed so much more than just kisses.

Taking control back, he blazed his hot lips down to her neck.

“Jennette,” he murmured against her neck. “This is madness.”

“Yes,” she whispered as her head leaned against the door. “Good madness.”

“Bloody beautiful madness.”

His hands moved to her hair and the pins that held it up dropped to the floor in a symphony of pinging tones. She couldn’t take her gaze off his eyes. Usually a light gray, his eyes turned a darker shade as passion ruled his emotions.

They stared at each other for a long moment. He was giving her a chance to leave, she thought. Again, being the honorable man. But her feet wouldn’t move. Her mouth would not let her speak the words to make him stop because she didn’t want to stop.

Just once,
her mind pleaded,
and then you’ll know what it’s like.

His lips returned to hers, this time hardened with desire, not soft with comfort. She eagerly accepted his rougher kisses. As her tongue reached for his, molten heat spread from her mouth to her belly. The strangest sensations radiated from her stomach, lower to her womb. Unconsciously, her hips moved closer to him, closer to his heat.

When his hand skimmed down her back, he pressed her nearer and she felt the hardness of his erection. His fingers worked on the few tiny buttons on her gown.

“I want to see you wearing nothing,” he whispered as he slid her gown down. “Nothing but your beautiful hair covering parts of your body.”

Jennette bit down on her lip as she watched him drink in her body. Far from naked, she still wore her stays, petticoats, shift, draws, shoes, and stockings. But seeing the look in his eyes, she felt as if she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on her body.

“Turn around, Jennette.”

A little nervous tremor raced down her spine but she did as he requested. She felt his fingers work to unlace her stays. He kissed her shoulder while he loosened and finally removed them.

He pushed her hair away and his lips spread warmth across her back. A little shudder shook her body when he untied her petticoats and let them drop to the floor on top of her gown. He was right when he said this was madness. Facing the door, she closed her eyes as he brought her shift and her drawers over her hips.

Oh God, she stood there wearing nothing but her embroidered stocking and dancing shoes. She peeked back to see his lips tilt upward in a feral smile. He skimmed his fingers over the roundness of her bottom. Crouching down, he then removed her garters and her stockings fell to her ankles.

He picked up her foot, removed her shoe, and slowly traced his finger down from her thigh to her foot, removing the stockings as he went. His lips replaced his finger, warm, wet kisses trailed up her leg. He nipped the back of her calf as he moved upward.

“You have the most beautiful long legs,” he whispered against the back of her knee. His hands slid from her thighs down to her ankles. “I want to feel them wrapped around my hips.”

“Yes,” she moaned softly. The urge to wrap herself around him was too great to ignore. She’d wanted this for so long. Tonight, she would have him all to herself.

“Soon,” he replied, moving the last shred of clothing on her body. He repeated the motion of removing her other stocking and kissing her leg. Only this time, he didn’t stop at her thigh.

She groaned as his lips blazed a fiery heat up her buttocks. As his lips kissed her behind, his hands cupped her breasts. Her head rolled back as he rubbed his thumb over her taut nipple sending a rush of moist heat to her core.

Slowly, he brought his hands down her belly and lower until his fingers brushed through her private hair. No man had ever touched her there. But it felt so right when he did. Spreading her folds apart, she shivered as his fingers crossed over her sensitive nub.

“You’re so ready for me,” he said as he slipped a finger deep inside her.

Waves of pleasure pulsed from her womb, spreading through her body. The sensations increased as he glided his finger in and out of her, replicating the actions she knew would happen in a few moments. Thankfully, her mother had not been shy in telling her everything a man did to his wife. And even though Matthew would never be her husband, she had tonight with him. And that would have to be enough.

“I want you now.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Now, please.”

He stood and turned her around to face him. Lowering his lips to her, he whispered, “Mine.”

If only that could be true.

She felt him fumble with his breeches and wondered when he would take her to his bed. The idea of him covering her with his hard body caused a shiver to race through her. Instead, he pinned her to the door and lifted her legs.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, Jennette.” His voice sounded raspy as if he were as overwhelmed with desire as she was.

She did what he’d requested and felt his erection at the entrance to her womanhood. He couldn’t mean to…he lifted her slightly up and brought her down on top of him.

“Ahh,” she cried out as he pushed through her maidenhead. The pain of his rough entry forced tears down her cheeks.

Matthew went still as the realization of what happened hit him. She wasn’t supposed to be a virgin. John had told him—Oh God, John had lied.