JORDAN Nicole (22 page)

“So?”

“So I intend to accompany you home. With a highwayman at large, you should have the protection of an escort.”

His offering her protection was like a tiger offering to guard a lamb, Roslyn thought crossly. “Thank you, but I do not need your escort. I am just walking next door, and there are no highwaymen in the gardens.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t intend to let you go alone.”

There was a subtle challenge in his eyes that dared her to refuse him.

She gave in with a sigh. Arden fell in beside her as she descended the steps and set out across the estate grounds, easily matching his long stride to her shorter, more hurried one.

There was ample moonlight to see by, and the July evening held a welcome coolness after the warmth of the ballroom. In the distance, she could hear the rustle of water as the River Thames meandered its lazy path to London at the rear of the estate grounds.

Her unwanted escort remained silent as they traversed the gravel paths. Roslyn made for the side gate that offered entrance to the Danvers gardens. When Arden opened it for her and allowed her through, she wished he would leave her there. But he followed her inside and shut it behind him.

There were few lights on in the house, Roslyn saw, since most of the servants had already retired to bed.

When she reached a side door to the manor, she paused to say over her shoulder, “Thank you for your escort, your grace, but now you may return to the ball with a clear conscience.”

His voice, low and intent, came to her. “Roslyn…stay a moment.”

She turned reluctantly at his request. “Why?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. He simply stared down at her, as if debating with himself.

Roslyn gazed up at him distractedly, wondering how she had managed to end up in a moonlit garden with Arden. She deplored the thrilling, edgy quiver of nerves that being alone with him in the dark engendered in her. She found her gaze dropping to his mouth, that firm sensuous mouth that could kiss so marvelously….

“I don’t want you driving out with Haviland tomorrow,” he finally said.

“Whyever not?”

“Because I don’t want you trying to seduce him when I intend to court you myself.”

Her gaze abruptly lifted to his, wide and disbelieving. “I beg your pardon? You intend tocourt me?”

“That is what I said.” There was a note of dry amusement in his voice, as if not even he could believe his declaration.

“Court me?” Roslyn repeated. “As in prelude to marriage? That makes no sense. You don’t want to marry anyone, you’ve said so in no uncertain terms.”

“So I did. But I have since changed my mind.”

“If you are making game of me—”

His mouth curled. “I would never jest about a subject so serious as matrimony. I must wed eventually, and you will do far better than anyone else.”

Shocked speechless, Roslyn stared at him, a dozen emotions warring inside her. The chief was disbelief, but that soon gave way to anger.

Arden must have seen her temper flare, for he grimaced. “I phrased my proposal rather boorishly. Let me try again. I would be honored for the privilege of making you my duchess, Miss Loring.”

She shook her head wildly. “You wouldn’t be honored in the least. And neither would I.”

“Don’t dismiss the idea out of hand—”

“Of course I will dismiss it! I told you I would never marry without love, and you don’t even believe in it.”

“I want the chance to change your mind. Love is vastly overrated, and in time, I can make you see it.”

The nerve of him, Roslyn thought furiously. Did he honestly believe she would give up her dreams just because a nobleman of his consequence deigned to propose to her?

“I have heard quite enough, your grace.”

She turned away, shaking, and made to enter the house, but Arden forestalled her by grasping her arm. When he spun her to face him, the air seemed to crackle all around them. Roslyn was suddenly very aware of the thrum of excitement pounding deep in her stomach.

She swallowed hard. “You have obviously taken leave of your senses.”

“Perhaps I have,” he muttered in a rough under voice.

“Well, I still have all ofmy faculties. Even if you have convinced yourself for some mad reason that you want me as your duchess, why the devil would I ever want to marry you?”

“Because of this….”

His mouth came down hard to take possession of hers. Roslyn tried to get away, but his hand held her head still while his mouth slowly forced hers open, his tongue stabbing deep in a sensual assault that was dominating, possessive. The unexpectedness of it stole her breath and sent a surge of heat shuddering through her entire body.

Roslyn whimpered. She couldn’t resist the strong arms that crushed her to him. He ravished her mouth, ripped her senses from her.

Her hands crept up to wrap around his neck. The moment she surrendered, his kiss changed…softened, deepened, flooding her with longing.

Feeling her willpower slipping away, Roslyn made one last frantic effort to break the spell he was weaving around her. She pushed against his shoulder and tore her mouth away.

“Your grace! Drew…we have to stop this!”

“Not yet,” he rasped. “I mean to show you one last lesson.”

“What lesson?” Her voice was shaky and as hoarse as his.

“Pleasure,” he murmured. “The kind of bliss you can find with a considerate lover.”

Her stomach clenched with chagrin. “We cannot be lovers—I could never allow it. It would be utterly disgraceful.”

“I know. But I’ll stop short of claiming your innocence. Hush now,” he urged when she would have protested.

He resumed his slow-burning kiss, which had the same effect as before: Her body melted back against his forearm while her mouth opened willingly under his. Roslyn moaned softly. His sensuality was deep and intoxicating and roused a now familiar ache low in the pit of her belly.

She could feel the heat and hunger in him, as well. His arousal was blatant against her abdomen. She shivered with raw desire.

Then one of his hands glided downward and slipped between their bodies. Roslyn stiffened, but his lips made her forget her dismay. A moment later his hand moved between her legs, seeking and caressing.

She tensed, throbbing deep inside, and then gasped when he cupped her woman’s mound through the fabric of her gown and chemise. But he went on massaging lightly, stroking, his expert, coaxing touch setting her nerves on fire. When she instinctively pressed closer, rocking her sex against his hand, his kisses shifted from her mouth and trailed along her jaw to her ear.

His breath was a little ragged when he asked, “Can you claim you don’t want me touching you?”

She couldn’t claim any such thing. She wanted to be touched, wanted him to touch her.

When she didn’t reply, he drew back to watch her. His eyes riveted on her face, his gaze smoldered, as his fingers worked their magic. She fought the maddening desire but her body was on fire for him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No….”

Her spine arching, she strained against him, helpless to control the quivers that suddenly rocked her body. Quivers that only kept building in ferocity and power. His eyes held her captive with their intensity while explosive pleasure spasmed deep within her. Roslyn bit back her gasping cries, even though she was so weak she swayed against him.

Yet he wasn’t finished, it seemed. Not at all. Before she could even recover her breath, he knelt before her. To her shock, he lifted her gown to bare her naked limbs to his gaze.

She clutched his hair as he stroked up the insides of her thighs, his long fingers gentle against her sensitive skin. When he pushed her gown to her waist, she felt exposed, damp with desire. He leaned forward then, and his mouth touched her, the moist heat of it a burning contrast to the coolness elsewhere. Roslyn nearly cried out, yet she clamped her teeth shut, knowing she had to keep quiet for fear of waking the household.

For a time, her soft pants were the only sound in the hushed garden as his relentless mouth plied her sweetly, inciting her to a fever pitch of passion. He slowly lapped at her tender folds, teasing the bud of her sex with erotic strokes until she thought she might faint from the pleasure of it. And just when she could bear no more, he penetrated her deeply with his tongue.

It was too much. The sensation streaking through her was so excruciatingly blissful, her entire body shook.

Her second climax was even more powerful than the first and almost brought her to her knees. As brilliant, bursting lights rocketed inside her, he rose to press his palm over her mouth, stifling her cry of pleasure so that it came out as a keening moan. And when she collapsed against him, Arden’s strong arms caught and held her tenderly as his lips brushed soft kisses at her temple.

She clung to him, her heart pounding, her ragged breaths loud in the hushed night.

“Can your earl make you feel such pleasure?” he finally murmured in her ear. “Does he set your body on fire as I do?”

Roslyn hadn’t enough energy to shake her head. The earl had never given her such pleasure; with him she’d never experienced anything like what she’d just done with Arden. Her body felt as if it had suddenly burst into flames, while her heart and mind were in similar turmoil. Wonder and amazement at the incredible sensations Arden had made her feel vied with dismay and disbelief that she had let him go so far—and that she had enjoyed it so much.

Dismay won out. Her racing heartbeat slowing, Roslyn groped behind her for the door.

When he started to kiss her again, she averted her head. “Don’t…. Please, just leave me alone.”

Hearing the panicked plea in her voice, Drew stood stock-still for a long moment before his arms reluctantly fell away from her. Freed from his embrace, Roslyn turned and stumbled inside the house, shutting the door in his face.

Drew made no move to stop her as she fled. Instead, he stood there wanting to curse. His arms felt empty, his body hot.

He was aching with more than just sexual frustration, though. The tension knotting his insides had even more to do with his conflicted emotions. He had never felt so torn in his life. His first and only proposal of marriage had been an abject failure—and it was his own damned fault.

He’d decided to stake his claim to Roslyn, whatever it took. Even if it meant having to wed her. But it had been sheer idiocy to blurt out his intentions like that. Not only had he insulted her, but he’d put her on her guard against him.

Her adamant refusal had spurred a fierce need to vanquish her objections. To prove she was attracted to him as well as let her feel real pleasure for the first time. And admittedly, he’d given in to jealousy. He wanted to be the only one who drove her wild, who unleashed that wild, wanton side of her.

She was just as sensual and passionate as he’d expected. Pleasuring her had left him with heat pummeling through his blood—and only strengthened his primal desire to conquer, to seize, to hold.

Drew swore a low oath. His behavior was beginning to border on obsessive. He’d started to act just like Marcus. Call it what you will—infatuation, obsession, madness—but he was infected with the same malady.

Perhaps hehad gone a little mad, Drew acknowledged. Yet his impulsive proposal was not wholly irrational. After all, Roslyn would make him an excellent duchess. She had the grace and training for the position in addition to the birth and breeding. And he could certainly admire her personal qualities. She was forthright and honest, independent, generous. Her intelligence and sense of humor matched his own.

Yet her most appealing quality was her warm nature. His greatest fear was that he would be shackled for life to some icy noblewoman like his mother, but Roslyn was the antithesis of his bloodless, passionless mother.

And if he must marry someday to carry on his title, he could do far worse. Roslyn was no simpering, vapid miss who would bore him to tears. She would prove a challenge for him, in bed and out.

Now, however, he faced a more immediate challenge—persuading Roslyn to accept his proposal. After tonight she probably wished him in Hades.

The biggest obstacle to a union between them was her vow never to make a marriage of convenience. She feared the bitter antagonism that had characterized her parents’ marriage.

Theywouldn’t have antagonism in their marriage, Drew was fairly certain. They would have friendship and passion, which was more than most genteel marriages had. As for love…

Drew dragged a hand roughly through his hair. Roslyn’s notions about love in marriage were idealist claptrap, but he knew they were heartfelt.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he should attempt to make her fall in love with him, but he rejected the idea almost as soon as it occurred. He didn’t want to get tangled up with emotional complications. He certainly didn’t want to trick her into believing he could give her what she wanted. When he couldn’t reciprocate, it would be highly painful for her.

No, honesty was his best course. Yet he would not only have to convince her of the benefits of marrying him, he would have to overcome her refusal to marry without love.

Turning abruptly, Drew made his way through the dark gardens to return to the ball. He could persuade her to his way of thinking, he felt confident, but he would have to give careful thought to his campaign.

He had never purposely set out to win a woman, but he didn’t doubt he could win Roslyn if he truly set his mind to it.

Chapter Ten

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Devil take the duke! He has completely spoiled my desire to seduce Lord Haviland.

—Roslyn to Fanny

“Woolgathering, Miss Loring?” the Earl of Haviland said mildly as he slowed his pair of spirited bays to a walk.

Slanting a guilty look at the handsome nobleman in the phaeton’s seat beside her, Roslyn shook herself from her brooding reverie. Her thoughts had been so distracted, she’d completely lost track of the conversation.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said, her face warming with embarrassment. “What were you saying?”