Far Too Tempted (11 page)

The port tasted cloying, oversweet and thick on his tongue. Alex set the glass aside, turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m always gratified to be a source of amusement for you, but in this case you’re wrong. This is part of an old…well, a very old misunderstanding between Jess and I.”

Marcus sobered, rubbing his jaw. His blue eyes were very direct. “Old misunderstanding? You’ve been gone for a long time. Surely she was just a child when you left.”

“A rather precocious child, if you recall.”

“True, she was that. But I guess I still don’t understand. What happened?”

Suddenly restless, Alex evaded the question. “It was nothing. Or so I thought. I disappointed her.” He glanced out the window, seeing that a scattering of stars graced the inky blackness of a beautiful night sky. The sweet, warm air coming through the open pane seemed to soothe the ache that had begun to spread from both temples. A night bird called somewhere from the darkness, a mournful sound.

Yes, he had shocked and disappointed her.

And she was apparently determined to not let him forget it.

Abruptly changing the subject, he said, “The repairs on the house are going well. Thank you for recommending the carpenter.”

Distracted, the ever-practical Marcus launched into an interrogation of how the project was going.

Alex was more than willing to discuss banisters, beams and wall supports in lieu of the very stubborn Miss Roweland.

Jessica slipped out through the terrace doors off the dining room as she had every night she’d spent at Grayston. Some things, she thought wryly as she felt the cool air caress her cheeks, never did change. As a child she would sneak out of her room at night and savor the freedom and closeness of the darkness.

The Grayston gardens were as beautiful as ever, and in June, bursting with a thousand warm scents. She strolled wistfully along the path, lifting her face to the fragrant night breeze. Both Ariel and her mother-in-law, the dowager duchess, were avid about the estate’s gardens. The result was an array that was any botanist’s dream. She idly paused and plucked a white exotic blossom from a glossy-leaved bush and tucked it into the heavy fall of hair behind her ear. The night sky held a lovely spattering of stars and a perfect crescent moon.

Damn Alex and his unsettling questions. The man had a knack for setting her teeth on edge with his sarcastic insinuations. Especially this one.

One that hit so close to home.

Why
hadn’t
Nathaniel responded to her letter?

It was possible, of course, that he was off on some business trip just as she’d suggested to Ariel. The Greenes were concerned in many ventures, he’d told her so himself, and he was kept very busy managing them.

Nathaniel had regretfully informed her that as his wife, she’d be alone a great deal.

Which was absolutely fine with her.

Not, she hastily reminded herself as she strolled along, that she wasn’t eager to become Nathaniel’s bride, she was simply used to solitude, especially since the death of her parents. She really did not mind being alone.

The tall silhouette loomed before her, coming out of nowhere and making her gasp aloud. She stopped abruptly before she careened directly into it. Hard hands shot out to grasp her arms in a steadying grip, and Jessica had to tilt her head up to see the face of the invader into her dreamy, moonlit walk.

She already knew who it was before she recognized the silver shimmer of his pale hair, the austere and elegant line of mouth and jaw, the blaze of eyes that she knew were bluer than the summer sky.

Alex.

“Well, fancy meeting you here, Miss Roweland. I thought that perhaps you had learned your lesson about wandering the gardens at night many years ago.”

His deliberate direct reference to something so hurtful and shattering was like salt pouring onto tender, abraded skin. She jerked away from his touch and stepped back, theatrically rubbing the spot where his long, strong fingers had held her. “I thought perhaps all the beasts were in for the evening. It seems I was wrong. Again.”

“It seems you were.” His smile was slow in the darkness and his teeth gleamed white. “There are still a few of us out and prowling about.”

“God help us all.”

“Or at least you.” His eyes glittered.

Jessica took another step backward. “What is that supposed to mean?” Her voice was as icy as she could make it under the circumstances. His very posture was somewhat threatening and she’d seen earlier her deliberate snubs were beginning to get under his skin.

He was so very large and broad and tall, outlined by the shimmering moonlight like some ancient god, dark and powerful.

Alex’s voice was soft, lethally so. “This little demonstration you’re putting on has ceased to be amusing. I understand you have no regard for me, fine. But my family is becoming uncomfortable with the tension and I won’t have it. You are a guest in their home and I am only here for the extent of my leave. We should at least be able to be civil to each other, for their sakes, if not our own.”

Jessica squared her shoulders but her heart was pounding. He sounded very angry. She said evenly as possible, “I am civil. Very much so.”

“By not looking at me or speaking to me?” he pointed out.

“Forgive me if I’m not one of your simpering admirers, Lord Alex. And as for speaking, I simply have nothing to say to you. We have very little in common, for which I am grateful.”

“Well, find something then.”

“I am afraid I am not well-versed in the most favorable spots for sordid liaisons, nor can I speak eloquently on the easiest methods of removing a lady’s clothing before she even realizes what you are about.” Her smile was a brittle parody of the real thing.

Alex Ramsey took a long step toward her. She held her ground, glaring up at him with as much defiance as she could summon. He said gratingly, “Do not continue to push me.”

She could smell the heady scent of wine on his breath and remembered how often he’d had his glass refilled at dinner. Everyone at the table had begun lifting their brows, even the duke.

“You’re drunk,” she spoke contemptuously, and spun away.

Catching her shoulder, he spun her back. “Yes, I am. And no, we haven’t finished our discussion. Agree to a truce, Jess.”

She was all too acutely aware of the strength of the hands that held her, but not actually afraid. Whatever she thought of the man, he wouldn’t hurt her. She snapped out, “No.”

He caught her wrists and jerked her forward so that she stumbled on the path and fell against him, chest to chest. “Yes. Agree.” His breath stirred her hair.

She seethed. She raged against his effrontery, against the way that he was holding her, touching her. Looking up to meet his angry shimmering gaze, she said hotly, “I despise you. You are nothing but a womanizer with the morals of a toad. Any man who would seduce a married woman at his mother’s party is a scoundrel.”

His grip on her wrists tightened fractionally. She was flush against his tall body, and could feel muscular hardness of his thighs, hear the beating of his heart. It was difficult to maintain an aura of dignity when she felt so very small next to his height and lean strength.

His eyes narrowed. “Always, always, we’re back to that, are we? God in heaven, that was a long time ago. Can’t we forget it?”

“Is that how it works, you seduce and forget?” Her tone was falsely sweet.

“Did it occur to you, Jess, that she might have seduced me?”

The question took her off-guard. “What?”

In the starlight, his face was a handsome mask of shadows. His lashes were long and very dark over his eyes. He drawled softly, “Oh yes, that is how it works sometimes, my little innocent. The brush of a breast against your arm, the flutter of a fan that taps your wrist suggestively, the placement of her hand, just so, under the table on your upper thigh during dinner. I’m not always the hunter. The game is played from both sides. That night, I was not the one who suggested the gazebo.”

She choked out, “Don’t try to excuse your amoral behavior.”

“I’m not excusing anything, as I don’t answer to you. I am simply enlightening you to the truth. Passion is a sport played equally by men and women.”

“I don’t care about your…sport.” Jessica jerked against his hold. “Let me go, Alex.”

“That’s because,” he said thickly, “you don’t know anything about it, Jess. How can you condemn what you know nothing of?”

“What I know and don’t know is none of your business.”

“Oh, come on, Jess. Don’t try and tell me your laggard lover ever taught you a thing about what goes on between a man and a woman. You wear your innocence like a flying flag on a ship’s mast. Maybe I should change that.”

“What?” She gaped, going very still.

Alex usually could hold his liquor well, but tonight frustration had intensified the effects to a startling degree. A part of him understood her feminine affront over the incident years ago because it had toppled him from some absurd pedestal. A part of him was angry that he was being punished for a wrong he’d never intended.

A part of him was simply very attracted to her and he was not used to such open disdain.

He wanted to taste her.

Very much.

She was pressed against him because of the pressure he exerted on her arms. The softness of her breasts and the curve of her hips touching him was enough to rattle any good judgment he had left. Her upturned face was pale in the dim light, her eyes very wide and light. And her mouth—it was so very tempting.

The notion of kissing her was insane, that dim realization came a second too late, just before he gave in to the madness.

He bent his head and felt her stiffen just before his lips captured hers.

Sweet warmth. She gasped and he swallowed that sound, his eyes drifting shut as he savored her taste and scent. To his surprise, she didn’t struggle but instead stood very still against him. He could feel the arousing quiver of her body as he held her.

The kiss was deliberately long and hot. Molding his mouth to hers in sensual pressure, he changed the angle time and again, licking the line of her lips, slanting against her until she yielded to his silent request and parted to let him inside. His tongue slid into her mouth and began to explore and caress just as he let go of her wrists and slipped one arm around her slim waist and let his other hand find the wealth of her silky hair. He tugged at the pins and the whole mass came loose, tumbling in a satisfying fall over his arm and down her back. Cradling her nape in one hand, he wickedly rubbed his tongue against hers in carnal indulgence.

It was not the way to kiss an innocent young maiden and he didn’t care in the least. It was erotic, it was graphic, and it was the most enjoyable thing he’d done in a long time.

Her initial shocked immobility seemed to fade to something indefinable—if not participation, then at least submission. When he finally lifted his head to peer down at her face, her eyes were closed, the lashes thick and dark against her pale cheeks. Her freed arms were not precisely embracing him back either, but one small hand rested lightly on his shoulder and the other hung limply at her side.

Slowly her lashes lifted.

He expected outrage and fury. More, he knew he deserved outrage and fury. But Jessica just stared up at him with those lovely eyes and swallowed, the muscles twitching in her slender throat.

He wanted to kiss her again. He ached to kiss her again. Gently sliding his thumb along the line of her jaw and down the graceful curve of her throat, he lifted her chin with a forefinger. Her fingers tightening on his shoulder was all the invitation he needed.

Their mouths melded together, this kiss was gentle as the other had been fierce and demanding. She opened willingly, letting him savor her sweetness and warmth, her hand creeping up to touch his hair and clasp his neck. That simple gesture and the light pressure of her forearm against his heated skin sent fire spiking through his body, an unexpected exultation tightening his chest. Jessica was kissing him back and she was enjoying it.

There in the pooling moonlight, he was keenly in tune with every response she made to him. The quickened beat of her heart. The breathless gasp when he brushed his mouth across the underside of her jaw and touched the sensitive place under her ear. The way she shivered in his arms as he took her mouth again and again…

“Uncle Alex?”

The interruption barely registered until Jessica jerked suddenly in his arms, fighting and pushing to be free. He let her go and turned around. A small figure stood a few feet away on the path, staring at them. Long blond hair hung in spirals over a pale embroidered sleeping gown. Tiny bare feet peeped from beneath the hem.

He was plagued, he thought darkly as he stared at his eight-year-old niece, by young girls wandering around in the Grayston gardens where they had no business being and at the worst time possible. Clearing his throat, he said hoarsely, “Anne, sweeting, you should be in bed.”

“I
was
in bed. But you didn’t come up and say good night like you promised. I came to get you.” Her slim shoulders lifted. Anne looked curiously at Jessica’s scarlet face and then back at him again. “What were you doing?”