Tempest of Passion (9 page)

“
Be direct with me, Ms. Bunsbury. I want to
know the real reason. You must have another reason for having no
interest in marriage. Something must have …
happened
to you.”
“That is of no consequence to you, Sir. Now, I would appreciate it
if you left.”

She glared at him, her desire for him quickly lessening with
his inquisitive questions and demands. She was in a way thankful
that he was unwittingly massacring any chances he had ever had with
her.

William shook his head and chuckled.

“
I am not leaving, Ms. Bunsbury. There are matters we must
discuss … and love and marriage is one of them.”

“
Mr. Dalton.” She was several inches shorter than he, head
lying just below his chin, yet she forced herself to stand up to
him. She would not be bullied and cajoled by another man. Ever. “I
thought I had made myself quite clear the other night. Clearly, I
am mistaken. I do not wish to marry. You might believe yourself to
be in love with me. You might have the noble intention of making me
your wife but I am not interested. Let me repeat this slowly so
that it can enter that large head you sport over your shoulders. I.
Am. Not. Interested.”

Abruptly, William burst out laughing. The sound as always,
caught her by surprise. He always seemed too serious, his eyes so
sad and thoughtful, yet he managed to burst into gales of extremely
boisterous laughter. It was a rich sound, one that made her heart
contract. She willed the emotion away. She would have none of that.
Not anymore.

“
It is no laughing matter. I do not fancy being tied down to a
man, sitting at his home bearing children like a dog while he is
out and about enjoying life, the gentlemen’s club, the other women,
the society.”

His lips parted in surprise and he leaned forward as if to
speak, Emily raised her hand, silencing him.

“
I chose not to marry. If you really must know I was betrothed
once, and I chose not to be any man’s brooding mare. Though dancing
might not be one of my favorite past times, I enjoy seeing my
friends, laughing, reading, writing, playing music. I enjoy a good
conversation, intellectual stimuli. I am not a doll. I am not a
plaything to be played with and cast away as soon as another
prettier version comes along. I know I am going against all
societal standards and I couldn’t care less. I…”

Suddenly,
William Dalton grasped her arm. Emily gasped in surprise, a
prickle of awareness crossing from her arm across her flesh at
surprising speed. Her feet slid across the floor effortlessly as
William drew her flush against him. Her hands flailed about landing
on his chest. She meant to push him away, but the soft texture of
his shirt coupled with the hard flesh beneath mesmerized her and
she stilled. Her mouth had dried, her anger had fizzled. She was
too close to him. She could smell him, his delicious scent curling
around her like the warmest embrace. William’s hand on her back was
scalding hot, drawing delicious shivers just from the contact. His
eyes found hers and another soundless gasp burst through her lips.
There was fire in his gaze. Molten liquid fire that set her body
alight. His brown eyes were shining with golden flecks and she was
trapped in them like a bug trapped in amber.

“
Ms. Bunsbury.” His voice came out in a deep hoarse whisper.
They were intended for her, and only for her. “As I understand it
from your rant just now, you have suffered from a betrothal that
did not appreciate your worth. Has it not occurred to you that
perhaps, you had not found the right man?”

Emily swallowed before answering. Did they have to be so
close? Didn’t this go against all societal rules? A man wasn’t
supposed to touch a woman like this unless they were married … and
even then it was not well seen.

“
Stop thinking, Emily, and answer my question,” he
ordered.

Emily jumped at the use of her first name. Again, it sounded
right on his lips. Too right. Too decadent, too much.

“
Please release me,” she said pushing him
half-heartedly.

“
Not until you answer me.” He inclined his head closer, the
distance between them so close that she had all but to move another
inch and their lips would meet. Perspiration coated her back at the
thought. Oh, to taste him again. To vividly feel his wild and sweet
taste on her lips.

“
Ms. Bunsbury?”
“There is no right man,” she spat, glaring up at him, welcoming
back the separation as he said her family’s name out
loud.

Giving him a mighty shove, she separated their bodies. Cool
air wrapped around her and she shivered at the loss of contact.
Already she missed him.

No
. She ground her
teeth together, her palms itching to slap against his face. “How
dare you take such liberties, Mr. Dalton?”

He opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head. “Don’t
bother, I don’t care for explanations. You are like all other men
and if you truly must know, I did look for the man that did not
want me just because I was a decent woman with a good dowry. I was
as young and foolish as most women are at certain ages … but I came
to realize that there is more to life than finding a husband, and
accepted my fate with good grace.”

“
Have you ever thought that a man could be interested in you
for more than your good looks and purse? Have you ever thought
there could be a marriage out of love? Out of mutual respect for
each other? That not all men are like that pig that wanted to marry
you so you could have a brood of children?”

“
Of course I’ve thought of that,” she cried out. “What do you
think of me? I know the times we live in, I know. Yet, my parents,
perhaps because of their old age or perhaps because I am the only
unwed daughter and they pity me, allow me certain things. Things
which in a marriage I would not be permitted to do. I refuse to
lose this liberty.”

“
Enough,” he growled, drawing her into his embrace again.
Emily cried out in surprise as her feet left the ground for an
instant. Her hands found safe anchorage in his shoulders as he set
her back down, his hand burning a trace on her waist. He leaned
toward her, his forehead touching hers. She closed her eyes,
wishing him to go away. It was too much. His nearness was too much.
She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to melt against his touch
and to feel safe in his arms. She wanted him to reassure her. She
was not a weak woman. She’d never been, yet, his overwhelming
presence made her mad. “Look at me,” he growled.

Emily refused to open her eyes. She was a mess. Her feelings
for him were raining havoc down upon her.

“
Emily.” This time it was a snarl that traveled straight to
her groin.

“
Mr. Dalton.” She coughed, clearing her hoarse voice. “I beg
you to release me.”

“
No, not until you look at me.”

Emily sighed. Biting down on her lips, she opened her eyes.
Her heart fluttered and dropped to her stomach in distress. He was
gazing at her with emotions she could not decipher but they warned
her that she was in danger––her heart was in very grave danger. She
couldn’t allow it. She struggled against him but he held her
tighter.

“
Do not struggle. Just listen to me for a moment. Have you
ever thought that a marriage like the one you wish could exist? A
marriage with a man that respected you as a person? A marriage with
a man that desired you as a woman and not, as you put it, as a
brood mare. A marriage full of laughter and passion, companionship,
as well as struggles. Have you ever thought about it? Not every man
is the same. Not every person is the same.” William leaned closer
and Emily forced herself to keep her eyes open.

“
I have dreamed of having you as my wife almost since the day
I met you. Getting to know you better has left me no doubt that you
are the woman for me.” Emily tensed in his arms. “I love your
feisty direct nature, I love your ironic smirk, but I love best
when you let your guard down and smile. I long to see you laugh, to
hold you in my arms and protect you not only from crazy coachmen
but also from anything that could hurt you.”

“
Mr. Dalton,” the words came out like a breathy sigh, as if
she were lovestruck.

“
William. Call me William.” His lips touched hers, softly,
barely a brush. Her heart climbed back to her chest, an erratic
beat that reminded her of a drum roll. It was waiting, waiting for
more, waiting for him to claim her fully before it burst into happy
song. She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t let him.

“
William, please.” She was begging, but she didn’t care. She
wanted him gone, away from her, yet, when he moved back, when his
head lifted and his eyes bore into hers a terrible sense of loss
swept through her so hard she felt the trickle of tears at the back
of her eyes.

“
I’m not leaving you,” he whispered, before
tasting her lips again. “
’What made me
love thee? Let that persuade thee there's something extraordinary
in thee. I cannot: but I love thee… none but thee… and thou
deservest it.’”
He quoted Shakespeare.
Words he’d already used in his letters. Emily whimpered. The sound
came deep from within her as he brushed his lips against hers once
more. Softly, gently, like the touch of a feather. He was so strong
and yet he touched her as if she was made of porcelain. Again and
again, his lips claimed hers, slowly, their pressure increasing
along with the drum beating in her chest.
More, more, more.
Her hands on his
shoulders tightened, her nails digging onto his flesh as she hung
onto him for some sort of balance. Her head was swimming, as she
was falling, falling hard and fast against an invisible
floor.

William
grasped her bottom lip between his teeth, drawing it out, nipping
at it playfully and making her gasp as arousal slammed into her
with the force of a bullet. His tongue touched hers at that moment
and she felt her knees buckle. He held her upright, one hand
tightly wound around her waist and the other cupping her head,
tilting it to the side so he could have better access into her warm
recess. His tongue brushed across hers repeatedly, caressing it
intimately. Someone moaned. She moaned. She realized with a start
that the desperate sound was coming from her.

Caution and all fear vanished fully as he sucked her tongue
into his mouth. Instead, she found herself responding. Her tongue
darted out, cautiously reaching, exploring the softness of his. How
could a man taste so good? She boldly slid her tongue against his.
She craved more. William groaned and a peculiar surge of power
rushed through her. Her hands slid up to his neck, tangling on his
hair as they found new anchorage on the nape of his neck. Dear God,
but how could a man taste like heaven? Their tongues rolled and
sucked, took and gave. Slowly, she felt William pull back. His
playful tongue moved away, his lips locking with hers repeatedly,
the urgency fading. Her beating heart needed to calm down. What was
she doing? This was madness. She finally opened her eyes just as he
pulled away. He had her face captured in between his hands and his
eyes, still shone with amber highlights, the pupils fully
dilated.

“
Feel this.” He grasped her hand and placed it over his heart.
“It is not the heart of a man set on placing you in a glass cage,
it is the man of a heart set on making you happy.”

Emily
nodded, for once speechless.

“
Emily. I want us to get married.”

Chapter Eleven

William
was not surprised when she took a hasty step backwards.

“
What?”

“
I want us to get married.”

“
Have you not heard anything I’ve told you?” she whispered
angrily.

William sighed. Gone was the loving gaze she’d given him. Gone
were the whimpers and moans of excitement. Gone was the inkling of
contentedness he’d seen in her eyes. Emily, the hater of love and
marriage, was back with a vengeance. Not that he’d kissed her to
seduce her into marriage. No, he’d kissed her because he couldn’t
hold back any longer. He’d been a week without seeing her and he’d
missed her. Missed her outspoken ways and her smirk. Missed her
quick wit and bright eyes. Missed her figure, her sole
presence.

“
I have heard everything you told me but have you not felt
anything in that kiss? Do you not feel my beating
heart?”

Amused,
he smiled as she hastily removed her hand from his
chest.

“
Mine also beats rapidly, but it is the natural reaction after
a kiss. A kiss, which I might add, I did not ask for.”

William chuckled. “Ms. Bunsbury, you’re impossible. I will
enjoy spending the rest of my life with you.”

“
You will do no such thing,” she retorted, defensively
crossing her arms over her chest.

“
Do what? Enjoy my time with you?”

“
Spend your life with me.”

“
You cannot stop me, precious. You cannot cease the way I feel
for you.” William crowded her against the wall. His gaze centered
on her parted lips. His head swam, the scent of her arousal so
clear it was an aphrodisiac unto itself. The tip of her tongue
touched her mouth. He moved in closer. Her scent was intoxicating.
She tilted her head back.