His Saving Grace (26 page)

Crestfallen and feeling thoroughly chastised, she nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” He was just about to step clear when the door beside them opened.

“I say, Grayson, the ladies are eagerly waiting.”

Robert! Her eyes flew to Grayson’s in alarm. He immediately pressed her back against the wall, his large body shielding her from Robert’s eyes. He whispered in her ear, “Put your arms around me. Pretend this is an illicit liaison.”

She did what she was told, her body afire with sensation as his lips trailed down her neck. The material covering his hard thighs rasped against her legs, exposed through her harem outfit.

“I’ll be right with you. I’m just reacquainting myself with an old friend.” The low, husky voice titillated her skin as his fingers caressed her bare stomach.

Robert hesitated, seeming to notice the possessive stance behind the words. “I’ll keep the other ladies entertained until you can join us. Unless you’d like to share the lady who has had you so occupied that you’d keep five exquisite beauties waiting.”

Portia froze, feelings and desires sweeping through her, scrambling her brain. If her brother found her like this, in Grayson’s arms…

Thankfully, Grayson was in control. “No need. The beauty in my arms never shares. I’ll be along soon.”

Robert shrugged and clapped him on the back. Portia pushed herself fully into Grayson’s embrace, hiding as much of herself as she could.

Robert chuckled. “I see. You always keep the best for yourself. However, it leaves the field open on five delicious ladies until you return.” With that, he slipped back through the door into the ballroom.

Portia was surprised when Grayson did not immediately push away. He continued to hold her trapped, and warmth radiated from his chest, infusing her breasts with a delicious heaviness.

She tried to move. “You can let me go now. I’m sure the ladies are waiting for you.”

His eyes smiled into hers. “That almost sounds like jealousy.”

Of course it did. She
was
jealous, but she was not about to let him know that. “Don’t be ridiculous. If you remember, I wanted to leave as soon as you arrived. Why would I be jealous?”

“So you’re saying you are unaffected by me?”

What game was he playing? Portia found her gaze riveted on Grayson’s lips, watching them move, wondering what they would feel like. She shook her head. What had he asked? “Of course I’m not jealous. Not every woman wants to fall into your bed.”

“Liar. I can feel your heart pounding in your chest.”

“We were almost caught by my brother. He does allow me more leeway than most men, but dressed like this, in your arms…There would have been consequences.”

He reached up and slid his fingers behind her nape, and her breathing faltered as she watched his lips draw nearer. “So, if I were to kiss you, you’d feel nothing?”

He didn’t allow her to reply but drew her mouth up to meet his. He played over her lips like a maestro. His lips were soft and firm at the same time. Liquid heat washed over her, the heady effect he so easily aroused making her light-headed. She was losing herself in his kiss. She
wanted
to experience everything his kiss had to offer, and never leave his embrace…

Blast. After only moments, she felt him begin to pull away. But she was determined to have more.

Her arms tightened further around his shoulders, and she pushed deeper into his embrace. He hesitated for a second, as if understanding that his decision in the next few seconds would change their world. Portia wasn’t about to let her fantasy get away. She ran her tongue over his lips and his body shuddered. His mouth slanted more fully over hers, totally possessing her, a decision made.

His tongue swept into her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough. A groan rumbled deep in his chest and he pushed her against the wall. She could feel the hardened length of him against her stomach, her thin harem pantaloons affording her no protection from his considerable maleness.

Portia gave in to the powerful urges in her body. The overwhelming feelings of desire swept her away. She was living her fantasy, Grayson in her arms, making love to her. She moaned into his mouth.

In response, his kiss deepened. His hands ran tenderly over her body. When his knuckles skimmed the upper swells of her breasts, she thought she’d faint from need. As if on instinct, she lifted a leg to his hip, opening her womanhood to the feel of his powerful erection. She moaned feverishly as his hand held her leg in place and he moved against her, rubbing the exact spot that seemed to be on fire.

His other hand found her breast, and when his fingertips discovered her hardened nipple, fire streaked through her body, flooding her veins with smoldering heat. He soon had her breasts freed from their inadequate covering. When he broke their kiss, she was bereft until his mouth latched on to one peaked nipple and suckled. She bucked against him, rubbing his hardness.

He reciprocated, grinding against her, driving her mad with his caresses, encouraging her response, coaxing her wildness until she almost lost her mind. She could feel herself traveling to some unknown point. Her body knew the destination but not quite how to get there. “Grayson, oh God, please.”

Suddenly Grayson stopped, his mouth leaving her body. Both of them were breathing heavily, and a wave of frustration swamped her.

It was as if time stood still. His gaze fixed on her bare breasts, where moisture from his suckling glimmered in the dim light.

He dropped her leg as if he’d been burned and stepped away. “Oh God, Portia…My behavior is appalling. Please forgive me.”

“It was not all your fault.”

He didn’t reply. He simply reached out with one large hand to pull her clothing back into place, covering her exposed breasts. “This never should have happened. It’s untenable.”

Color flooded her face and she looked away. But why should she be ashamed? She had not started this, and he
had
been aroused. She looked at his groin and saw that he was still aroused. “Why is it untenable?”

He looked horrified as he followed her gaze and realized she knew of his condition. “Because you’re like a sister to me. Robert trusts me with you.”

She moved toward him, and he took a step back. “I must admit I’ve never wanted to do anything like this with my brothers.” She couldn’t help teasing him. “Why kiss me, then?”

“I had hoped to teach you a lesson. To make you see what trouble you could land yourself in with this continued scandalous behavior. If any other man had followed you into this corridor…u
nlike me, he would not have stopped.” At her silence, he added, “Is that how you want to lose your virginity? Against the wall like a common whore?”

She involuntarily flinched at his cruel words. He’d taught her something: that he was not immune to her, and that he was quite capable of thinking of her as a woman. “It taught me that you desire me.”

“I do not.”

“I may not be as experienced as you, but I can recognize an aroused man.”

He seemed to gather his composure. He straightened his cravat and scoffed, “I’ve been aroused since I walked into the Cyprians’ ball. It has nothing to do with you, merely the amount of delectable flesh on display. Most men react, as I did, to scantily clad women.”

Just like that, he squashed her confidence and broke her heart. Stupidly, she’d thought there were feelings behind his kiss. Obviously not. That was why she needed experience. To her untutored body, his kisses felt as if he could not live without her.

She did not know what to say. Tears were welling, and she wanted to leave. She turned and started to walk down the passage. “I shall leave you to get on with your amusements, then. I’d prefer not to be one of many. If any woman will do, I suggest you go find one who’s obliging.”

“I shall see you to your coach.”

She held up a hand to stay him, and just as he was about to argue, a servant entered the passage farther along the corridor. “You, my man, can you see me safely to my carriage?” she asked in desperation. She couldn’t bear to be in Grayson’s company a moment longer.

The servant eyed Grayson as if he could not reply without his authority. It irked her.

“You will see the lady”—and Grayson emphasized the word “lady”—“safely to her carriage, or I shall make you wish you were never born. Do I make myself clear?” At the man’s nod, he added, “No one must see her leave.”

“Of course, my lord. I can escort her through the servants’ quarter.”

Grayson hesitated as if he knew he should escort her, but it was obvious he wanted out of her presence as soon as possible. Gruffly, he asked, “Will you be all right with this man?”

Portia responded without looking at him. She might never be able to look at him again. “Of course.” Satisfaction at how steady her voice sounded made her stand straighter.

She tucked her cloak around her and, chiding herself all the way through the back passages, managed to get safely to her coach. Only once she was alone, in the darkened space, did she let her tears fall.

After her departure, Grayson stood in the deserted passageway, cursing himself. Even as he swore, his blood would not cool. He could still taste Portia, and her scent of orange blossom lingered on his clothes.

His erection would not subside. Not a problem at a ball such as this—it wouldn’t even be commented on when he rejoined the others—but the thought of being with one of these women, after having felt such innocent yearning in his arms, left him slightly nauseated.

How had he let things get so out of control with Portia Flagstaff, of all women? He’d been in serious danger of taking her, up against a wall, with her brother not far away. Only his name on her lips had brought him to his senses.

He’d been fighting his attraction for years, not helped by the fact that he’d grown up in her family and still regularly visited. Robert was like a brother to him, and how did he repay the friendship, repay Lord Flagstaff for taking him in when his family had perished? By seducing his daughter in an empty corridor.

She was a captivating minx. Her fiery red hair matched her temperament. She had a vividness that made her seem vibrant and alive. He closed his eyes, and his senses heightened. Her mouth was like sin, coupled with a luscious body that he’d finally been able to see and feel, since she’d been wearing such a scandalous outfit. Desire surged at the memory of her soft warm flesh.

“Blast it, you scoundrel,” he swore at himself once again, and he turned to reenter the ballroom. He’d find Robert and tell him he was going home. He had no appetite for a dalliance this evening.

When he entered the room and spied the beauties within, his body filled with fear. They did not stir him. The most notorious rake in London had lost his desire for sins of the flesh. The devil seemed to be controlling him, because he wanted only one woman: Portia. A woman he could not have.

You’d best douse your lust before you do something even more inappropriate with her.
A dalliance with the desirable Lady Portia led to only one conclusion
—marriage. The thought left him cold to his bones. There was no way he’d let that happen. They were totally unsuited. She was wild and wanton and took risks such as her scheme tonight. She sat at the edge of society, testing its limits daily.

She would more than likely bring the Blackwood name into disrepute if she were to become his wife. Even Robert knew they weren’t suited. Robert had told him, on Portia’s twenty-second birthday, that he’d originally hoped for a match between them, but knowing them both, he’d realized they would never make each other happy. Grayson held the honor of his family above all else, while Portia couldn’t give a fig what society thought. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and to hell with the consequences.

Grayson wanted a demure, respectable woman who understood the dictates of her position. Not a fiery-haired hellion who seemed to think the world was hers to mold and conquer.

He required a woman like his mother, a woman who turned a blind eye to her husband’s indiscretions while being true to her wedding vows. Many might find that stance hypocritical, but he wanted to know his children were his own. The perfect woman would be a lady of breeding who did nothing to bring the Blackwood name into disrepute.