Legendary Lover (12 page)

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"I'll have you back inside in a few minutes."

"You're mad!"

"Mad with lust." He forced her into the shadowed bower, quickly pushing her back against one of the carved uprights, impatiently brushing aside her skirt and petticoats.

"The scandal could be—"

He covered her mouth in a fierce kiss of domination and prerogative, not in the mood to discuss scandal or discretion, not willing to be reasonable, interested only in sating his sharp-set hunger. Swiftly unbuttoning his trousers, half lifting her for better egress, he bent his legs slightly and slid inside her, driving upward savagely, burying himself in her heated cleft, her liquid warmth melting around him, welcoming him.

She whimpered against his mouth, mortified, appalled, her skirts
rucked
up between them, his trousers chafing the tender flesh of her thighs, the slow rhythm of his strokes inciting her traitorous senses, a humiliating excitement shaking her.

He felt her shudder and nuzzled her ear. "See, I know what you want." Holding her bottom, he penetrated more deeply, forcibly, as if to verify his insight. A voluptuous dissipation began to move and swell, to convulse her with a mindless pleasure. Shivering, she took a deep breath as if she could contain the wild, dizzying flow of ravishment.

"I'm going to make sure you
stay
fucked." It was a low, deep growl, a primal warning.

She should resist; he couldn't impose his will on her, but her body responded to his force
majeure
without reservation or logic. She was insensible to all but the heightening rhythm of thrust and withdrawal, the
pow
-

Ill

erful
invasion that she felt in her brain and toes, blood and nerves, most desperately in the flame-hot core of her body.

"Wait," he said, when he knew she couldn't, when she was so frantic for release she was moaning, taut with the ache of it, when his soft command served only to spur her overflowing passions to a breathless, tumultuous orgasm.

With perfect timing, he withdrew in the wake of her climax, his ejaculation so explosive, so violent, so acute and shocking he gasped like a man coming up from near drowning. He was well disciplined, however, even in extremis, and his handkerchief served to save them both from inappropriate stains. Almost instantly, his mood altered, his wildness vanished. He began rearranging his clothes with a detached efficiency.

"I'm sorry," he gruffly said moments later, helping to straighten the skirt of her gown. "Jesus God, I need a drink."

A hint of anger resonated in his voice. Her own feelings were a maelstrom of uncertainty and tumult, the extent of her desire shocking to a woman who had always viewed men as expendable. "I'm not going back inside." She felt as though wanton were stamped on her forehead.

"We don't have a choice."

"I have a choice, and don't snap at me." How dare he exhibit
resentment.
"I wasn't the one who dragged you out here."

"Fuck yes, you did." Even in the shadowed moonlight, she could see his scowl.

"You're blaming me?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm blaming your hot fucking body."

112

"And you have no brain that functions?"

"Apparently not with you," he sullenly muttered.

"Screw you,
Redvers
."

"Not right now, although I'd love to later," he sarcastically noted, taking her hand in a harsh grip. "Let's go back in and get through this damnable evening."

"I'm not taking responsibility for this," she hotly said, trying to ease her fingers free.

"Fine."

"And if anyone dares say anything offensive to me, I'll crucify them on the spot."

"I'll help you," he brusquely said.

"And for
your
information," she went on, outraged by his presumptions of culpability, "I've never been fond of impersonal sex."

He snorted. He'd never been more consciously involved, disturbingly so. "I'll try to make it more personal next time," he said, perverse and contrary.

"Maybe there won't be a next time." She struggled to free her hand.

His fingers tightened their grip. "You can count on a next time." His voice was curt.
"Just as soon as we get the hell out of here."

<3
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KEPT
 
HER AT
 
HIS
 
SIDE,
  
HIS
 
COERCION
 
SUB-

tle
, a hand at the small of her back, at her waist or elbow, a swift warning look, a murmured comment that would pink her cheeks, his words, blunt and brutally earthy. He knew what she wanted from him, what he could give her, and he knew what he needed from her. She should leave. She could if she wished. In such a public venue, he couldn't restrain her. But she desired

"3

him; he'd made certain of that, and overcome with shame, tortured with longing, she stayed, eating dinner, conversing with apparent calm, even making plans to pick out a hospital site with Peggy. But her body and brain, her senses and soul were awash with sexual desire, the world distant and hazy, the conversations around her and her own words real but unreal. Her entire awareness focused on Jack's powerful presence, on the pleasure he could give her.

When dinner was over and the marquis escorted Lily onto the floor for her first dance, a sudden silence filled the room, the contrast between the young girl's delicate innocence and Jack Fitz-James's unbridled sexuality so stark the audience was breathless with expectation.

Even the musicians were mesmerized by the sight, and Lady Darlington had to frantically signal them to begin. The first bars of the waltz broke the uneasy hush, but all eyes were still on the lone couple on the ballroom floor, the initial dance reserved for the honored debutante. The artless young girl gazed up at Jack with such unalloyed adoration, melted against his body with such terrifying lack of decorum, her mother found it prudent to quickly curtail the waltz in order to preserve her daughter's reputation.

Immediately shooing Ned out to dance with his sister, she waved all her guests out onto the floor, her pink marabou fan aflutter, and then took herself off to the retiring room for a moment of collapse. Much as she liked dear Jack, she reflected, letting the maid set a cool cloth on her forehead, he wasn't about to fall in love with
Lrly
. Nor with any woman, she suspected, considering the reckless pace of his love life these many years

ii4

past
. Come morning, she would see that Lily was made aware of that incontestable reality.

"Ah, there you are, Frances!" a booming voice proclaimed.

Looking up, Lady Darlington saw the Countess of Belcher descending on her. Girding herself for the old harridan's inevitable, odious comments, she conjured up a polite smile.

'v/'ell pleased with lady Darlington's in-
tervention
, Jack returned to Venus. "My
duty's
done, and not a moment too soon." It had taken all his considerable charm to keep the young chit from kissing him in sight of the entire ton.

"Do you still think you're viewed as an uncle?" Venus observed.

"You were right. I was wrong. Happy?"

"Happy about the state of your love life?
I can't see that it concerns me."

Struck by such blatant hypocrisy when the heat of her anger was palpable, he said, "I refused her, by the way. Does that soothe your temper?"

"Not up to another stroll in the gardens tonight?" Biting sarcasm vibrated in every syllable.

"I explained to Lily my lust is exclusively centered on you," he silkily replied.

"I wouldn't be surprised at anything you said, after witnessing your gentlemanly manners earlier this evening."

"Is that a complaint?
After such a conspicuously vocal climax?"

Her hand swung up to slap him, but he caught it just

"5

short
of his face. "Don't make a scene," he coolly enjoined, forcing her hand down with a casual strength.

"Am I interrupting?" The Duchess of Groveland had glided up in a cloud of scent, her brows raised.

"Not at all."
His voice and gaze bland, the marquis released Venus's hand.

"I thought I might insist on my dance now," Peggy noted.
"If you don't mind, Venus, my dear?"

"By all means, take him." Venus tamed her voice to politeness.

Bending low, the marquis brushed his mouth against Venus's ear. "Don't go away."

Her eyes flashed with impudence,
unreassuring
and volatile.

"I particularly like this song," the duchess interposed, ignoring their heated glances. "I won't keep him long."

"Take all the time you wish," Venus affably said. "I'll find myself some champagne, or perhaps a whiskey."

As if she needed liquor to be difficult, the marquis thought. But there was nothing for it but to be gracious to his godmother, despite the men hovering in the wings, watching Venus, waiting for him to leave. Before Jack and the duchess had moved into their first gliding twirl, a crowd of eager suitors had descended on Venus.

Familiar with admirers, she greeted the men with
an added
warmth that evening and, in her current high dudgeon, accepted their adulation with more than her usual casual disinterest. Two can play the game, she mutinously reflected, directing her full attention on the earnest, aspiring suitors, laughing and flirting with a playful
elan
. They all wanted to dance; they all wanted to hold her in their arms; and from the numerous, overly

n6

eager
invitations, Venus chose a man she'd met at Peggy's.

"I was hoping to see you again," Lord
Groten
murmured, moving them out into the dancers in a great sweeping circle, readjusting his hold to draw her closer.

"I'll be in London for another week or so," she replied, agreeably aware of Jack's scowl from across the room, smiling up at her partner with a special cordiality.

Jack swore through his clenched teeth.

"For heaven's sake, show some restraint," Peggy remonstrated. "She's only dancing with Lord
Groten
."

Slowly exhaling, Jack gazed down on his godmother with a rueful smile. "You're right. It's only a dance. How can it matter?" His gaze returned to Venus and his nostrils flared. "But it bothers me. Damned if it doesn't."

"I'm pleased to see this departure from your normal indifference," the duchess cheerfully remarked. "I thought, perhaps, you had no feelings, like your father."

"Oh, the lady generates feelings, all right," he tautly said.
"The out-of-control, devil-be-damned type."

"She's very lovely. Why shouldn't you be captivated?" She knew full well there was nothing casual about Jack's fierce, impassioned response.

"I hate feeling this way," he grumbled.

She smiled up at him. "It's about time you felt something. Do you want my advice?"

"Not particularly."

The duchess blandly met his scowl. "I'd say woo her, and marry her, if you can't live without her."

Horror instantly flared in the marquis's eyes. "What the hell kind of advice is that? I'm only twenty-four, for God's sake."

ii
₇

"Do you think there's a precise age when love strikes you?"

"I don't think there's ever an age when love strikes you."

We'll have to see, won't
we.
"

"Save that knowing look, Peggy. I'm not interested in marriage.
Understood?"

"Venus seems to be having a good time with
Gro
-ten," the duchess calmly noted, as though her godson hadn't responded so brusquely. "He's making her laugh."

"He fancies himself a Don Juan, bloody insolent sod. I'm cutting in, Peggy," Jack growled. "I hope you don't mind."

"Heavens, no," she mildly replied, satisfied with her gentle guidance. "
Groten's
a marvelous dancer."

qMy
turn, groten." jack's shoulder tap was
sure to leave a bruise.

"Not likely,
Redvers
."
Thomas Manchester was also a large man, bulky and solid in contrast to Jack's lean strength, and he had no intention of giving up his partner. He danced away.

Jack followed without missing a beat. "You know that little redhead you have tucked away in Chelsea? Does she always giggle when she comes?"

His query brought
Groten
to a standstill, although he still held Venus.

"Now that I have your attention," Jack smoothly went on, "I believe Miss
Duras
would prefer dancing with me."

"I don't allow poaching, damn you." The Earl of
Groten's
face was flushed with anger.