The Skilled Seduction (26 page)

Victoria’s heart beat at a frantic pace as his fiery kisses then traced a path across her cheek before he nipped her earlobe with his teeth.

The possessive gesture reminded her that she was his. He had branded her the night they spent together, their fates sealed in an act of passion.
 

 
A guttural moan escaped his throat as Tristan continued his exploration to her neck, where he paused.

“Do you want more of this?” he whispered, his tone more primal than she’d ever heard it.

Tori reclaimed his lips, her passion evident in each kiss.

This time, it wasn’t her passion that he desired.
 

Tristan tore his lips from hers, “Tell me what you want.”

In her eyes he saw the fire raging within her.

“Tell me,” he coaxed, tracing her lips with his thumb.

“I want you,” she admitted aloud.

Staring into the depths of her heated gaze, Tristan saw his future in all its glory. A life filled with Victoria’s kisses and caresses, endless nights with her writhing beneath his weight, sleeping sated and naked in his arms.

He kissed her again, slowly, savoring the sweet taste of her lips, her body molding to his, as the rain continued to fall. Time seemed to stand still whenever he was with her.

Once the rain slowed to a drizzle, Tristan tore his mouth from hers. “Come with me,” he said, reaching for her hand and leading her away from the protection the leafy tree offered to the drive where he knew his coach was waiting. Once within range, he surveyed their surroundings, ensuring no one was approaching.

They reached his sleek back coach as cool raindrops again began falling fast and heavy from the sky above. The driver jumped from his perch before pulling the steps down and yanking the door open. After helping Victoria ascend the steps, Tristan issued his orders in a hushed tone. “Don’t stop until we get there. No matter what you hear, do not stop.”

The tall, muscular man nodded. He’d been Tristan’s driver for over a year now and, although Tristan never asked him, the thick scars on his face made him suspect that his driver had been party to more than one untoward act. The fact that the man showed no signs of shock or discomfort at Tristan’s current orders proved it.

By the time he joined Victoria in the coach, Tristan was soaked, his hair dripping wet. He shrugged off his greatcoat and placed it over Victoria like a blanket, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to ward off the chill.

If she questioned Tristan having his coach there, Victoria didn’t voice any such concern. Instead, she silently settled with ease into the crook of his arm.

They fit together like perfection.
 

Would she still allow him to hold her once she knew of his intentions? No, once they left the grounds, she would fight him like hell.

It couldn’t be avoided.
 

Staring out the window, Tristan wished that his intricate scheme wasn’t necessary but he couldn’t take the risk that Victoria would change her mind or that Sebastian would indeed make good on his threat to send her away.
 

This was his only option.

Just as he predicted, her questions began as soon as they’d passed through the final set of gates.

“Tristan, where are we going?” she asked, leaning forward to peer out the window. She then turned to face him. “Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t worry about that. Why don’t we discuss our wedding ceremony instead?”

“Where are you taking me?” Panic began to rise in her voice as Victoria studied him, her chest rising and falling, her breathing becoming erratic.

Though his attempt at changing the subject failed, it was a valiant effort nevertheless.

“Darling, we discussed this,” he reached for her hand, his tone calm and cool, like this was a normal, everyday occurrence. “We’re getting married.”

Tori clutched the seat to steady her mounting anxiety as realization set in at last. “You said Sebastian and Gwen would accept our marriage. Oh my God, you said they would do so
after
we’re married. Tristan, we can’t elope.”

“Of course we can,” Tristan smiled at her, one of his dazzling smiles that used to make her melt.
 

It now infuriated her.

“I’m not a child. You cannot force me to elope with you.”

“Darling,” Tristan pulled her towards him. “You are no child. You’ve proven that to me on numerous occasions.”

Darling.
She would have once given anything to hear him call her
darling
. Now, it grated on her nerves, as her molten anger boiled to the surface.
   

“Tristan, pull this carriage over this instant!” she demanded. “Order the driver to return me to my brother’s estate.”

“I can’t do that. My driver has explicit instructions.”

Victoria reached for his coat, tossing it upon the floor but Tristan picked it up, covering her with it once again.

“Leave it on. You’ll catch cold if you don’t,” he said, his tone now different – possessing a sudden protectiveness.

He leaned closer to her, his shirt so wet it was all but transparent. “Please stop arguing and agree to marry me,” it was as if he was asking her a favor, his full lips curved into a boyish grin. “Please, Victoria.”

In spite of her anger and frustration, she actually imagined the possibilities. The joy they could share, a life filled with endless banter and children running around the house. A life complete with birthdays, anniversaries, crowning achievements celebrated together.

He wants this.
 

She saw it reflected in his brown eyes, now sparkling, his dimples etched with deep indentations when he smiled.

He wanted
her
.
 

Hope took flight, soaring in Victoria’s soul. Even if she could never have the great love her brothers found, she could be happy with Tristan. They could have the relationship they did before, that of friends, bantering back and forth. It could work but only if she protected her heart.
 

She wouldn’t be a fool ever again.
 

No, she must feign indifference.

“If I marry you, it won’t be by elopement. If I marry you, and I’m not saying I will, I won’t be complacent,” she began, listing her demands. “I will speak my mind, even if it means doing so in front of your colleagues. I will do so tactfully, of course but will do so nevertheless.”

Tristan smiled, twice in one day, for the first time in what felt like ages. “I expect nothing less from you.”

“We will be equals,” she added, “I don’t care what society thinks. I will be your partner and you will be faithful to me.”

“Absolutely,” he said with a nod. So far, this sounded like heaven. “Anything else?”

“I know you don’t love me and I don’t love you,” her shaky pitch belied her proclamation.

It was subtle, but Tristan noticed it.

“I will not love you,” she declared, this time with more authority. “You must accept that fact if I am to marry you.”

She was lying. Tristan knew her too well. Victoria did still love him, but to make such an admission would wound her pride. So she would lie to him instead. It wouldn’t deter him, though. Tristan would settle for what she now offered aware that he wouldn’t rest in his pursuit until she changed her mind.

“I understand,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

Tori shook her head.

“Now it’s my turn,” he said. “First, I want children, and we will get started on that immediately following our nuptials. I will need an heir for my title, after all, and you will play with and read to our children just like you do with Emma and Nicholas.”

A slight pink tinge crept across her cheeks at the mention of starting a family. It was so adorable, so unexpected, so … Victoria, that Tristan couldn’t help but smile. Then he pulled her closer and brushed his lips against hers.

Her kiss, with lips soft as a rose petal, conveyed that she still loved him. It was just a matter of time before she admitted it. Once married, Tristan would fully seduce his wife and she would eventually admit her love for him.

He wouldn’t relent until she did.

Tristan reluctantly tore his lips from hers before reaching into the pocket of his greatcoat, the same one that was still draped over Victoria, and fumbled as he removed a crimson velvet ring box.

“This is for you,” he said as he opened the box, offering it to her.

Victoria studied the ostentatious, blood red oval-shaped ruby. “I told the jeweler I wanted something fit for a queen.”

“That it is, Tristan.”

“It reminded me of you. Bold and regal,” he whispered.

Victoria smiled, one that never met her eyes, which were usually full of life and emotion. In an instant she was distant and it was breaking his heart in two.

“What?” It was all he could manage.

“You never had any intention of complying with my request that we not elope, did you?” she traced the large stone with her finger. “You would have agreed to anything in order to get us as far from Kellington Manor as possible.”

Tristan rubbed his temples. “Yes.”

At least he was honest in this regard.

“It is only fair. I manipulated you and now you have done the same. There is a perfect symmetry to it.” Victoria closed the ring box.

“Sebastian threatened to send you away before my exile,” Tristan admitted.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“How did you know?” Tristan brushed a stray curl clinging to her face.

“The ring,” Victoria’s tone was flat. “Based upon the grandeur, it is evident that you want a wife to display on your arm at social functions, wearing a ring the size of a small country.”

Tristan was speechless. The ring was his way of impressing Victoria. After all, what do you get the woman who already possesses everything?
 

“Perhaps you planned to impress your colleagues by choosing it for me?” Victoria surmised aloud. “It couldn’t have been for my benefit because, if you knew me at all, you would know that the size of a gemstone fails to impress me. It is the sentiment that I find endearing. A less ostentatious ring with heartfelt significance would have meant more to me than a thousand rubies of this size and quality.”

Tristan pulled her closer to him. “Tell me you want to marry me, Victoria.”

“And if I don’t?” she asked in a matter of fact tone, “You will abduct me and insist I elope with you? That has been your plan all along, has it not?”

“Yes,” he admitted.
 

Victoria met his gaze. “I understand now and I dare say not even Shakespeare himself could plot a better ending. By misleading me, you deprived me of the one thing that remained – my choice.”

A vast emptiness washed over her. Tristan was forcing her hand! Once he’d taken her to wherever their destination may be, Victoria would disgrace their families if she didn’t marry him. Lest she forget, although more couples eloped now, it was still scandalous. With that said, not marrying after being taken to London or Gretna Green unaccompanied was grounds for complete ruination.

She had planned to wait until she knew if she were pregnant before marrying him, still not fully trusting that he wanted to marry her with or without a child.

Now she was left with no choice in the matter.

“Victoria—”

“You are quite clever,” she turned, staring out the window, her vision blurred. Though objects passed, her eyes failed to focus. “Just think of it … you’ll have a wife, your sister will be relieved that you’ve found your way, and Colin will be able to renew his relationship with you again. What could be better?”

“I want to marry you—”

His betrothed scoffed. It was then that Tristan knew God did indeed exist and He was punishing Tristan for his sins.

Tori turned to face him. “Don’t look so dejected,” she smoothed the line of worry etched in his forehead. “You didn’t expect a love match. This is what you wanted.”

Opening the box, Tori pulled the ring from its velvet bed, studying it for several seconds before placing it unceremoniously on her finger.
 

She briefly considered her brothers. Colin chose a stone the color of his wife’s eyes for her betrothal ring while Sebastian had chosen a sapphire for Gwen. It was their mother’s favorite stone, Victoria remembered. Whether it held a more private significance between husband and wife, Tori knew not, but the sentimentality of what she did understand made her want to chuck her own gaudy stone out the window. Tristan chose an expensive ring, possibly the most expensive the jeweler had and for what purpose?
 

To purchase her complacency?
 

The thought sickened her.

“The more I consider it, perhaps you intended to purchase me with this ruby?” her gaze held his. “Am I a prostitute now? According to the servants, my own brother believes me to be a whore, so that must be the next logical step.”

Tristan cupped her face in his hands. It wasn’t until this particular moment that Victoria noted his ashen complexion and sunken eyes. His appearance was made even worse by the bruise on his jaw from his altercation with Sebastian, deepening in color now to a dark purple hue.