Tonight or Never (6 page)

I wonder what he's grabbing
. She could just imagine the sordid exploits the rogue was dreaming about! Chloe sighed. It was going to be difficult to reform him.

But not impossible.

She knew just what she had to do in order to achieve her objective. Chloe was going to give him enough
tether
in the rope she offered to him so that he might hang himself.
Metaphorically speaking.

How can such a wicked man look so innocent when he sleeps
? She rolled her eyes at the preposterous picture he made. An innocent Lord of Sex.
Ha
! Trying not to laugh outright, she leaned forward to gently smooth back a strand of hair from his face.

John was worth reforming.

There was something extremely likable about him; everyone who met him saw that at once. Still, Chloe had always believed there was more to John than simply his easygoing, likable, rapscallion self.

Indeed, throughout her life he had given her glimpses of so much more.

The truth with John
lay
buried deep within: a heart of gold imprisoned by the walls he had erected. Chloe hoped with all her being that she was the key to unlock it.

Undeniably, from the moment they met, he was hers. Oh, not in body, to be sure, but definitely in spirit. It was something she had always sensed: they belonged to each other.

They always had.

And they always would.

It was up to her to make the dunderhead see it. Then admit to it.

There was the rub.

How does one bring a six-foot-two-inch rogue to heel
? Well, she was about to find out and write the book. She took a deep breath.
I can do this… I know I can
. It was Chloe's once-in-a-lifetime chance and she was going to reach for it. Snapping off a blade of grass, she bent over him and lightly ran the tip across his lips. John's green eyes opened a fraction. As she suspected, he was very sensitive to physical stimuli.

"
Mmm
, hello, sweet," he whispered sleepily.

Trusting as a babe, she thought with a snort. At least until he regained full wakefulness. "Had a hard night, did you?" she goaded him.

He rolled over onto his back. Several buttons on his white shirt were undone; Chloe got a very nice glimpse of taut, golden skin and a flash of a gold chain before it slid under his shirt.

Lacing his hands behind his head, he gazed up at her, eyes sparkling with humor. "I rode like hell to get here and you know it."

"Yes, I suppose…" She glided the blade of grass across her lips in a seemingly unconscious action. His gaze fell instantly to her mouth.

Chloe knew the exact moment he realized it was the same blade that had just run across his own lips. His eyes darkened. She was thrilled. It was a very good sign. In fact, he seemed to have made a decision of some kind.

"Come lie down here with me." He spoke quietly as he held his hand out to her.

Chloe swallowed. She had wanted a reaction, but not this strong of a reaction.
"
Wh
-what for?"

John raised an eyebrow. "So we can discuss the English economy. What do you think 'what for'?"

"I—you—you can't be serious!"

"You were the one who said you wanted to improve your technique. Well, I'm in an 'improving' state of… mind." He patted the grass beside him.

The reprobate
! That was not what she had said! She bit her lip. It
was
what she had said…

However, it was not what she had meant! "That was not the entire package. If you recall, I proposed an agreement with you regarding marriage."

John had already decided to accept her proposal. Not that he was ready to tell her yet. He wanted to see if… There it was. Chloe's bow mouth pouted. It always did when she was forced to wait for an answer she might not like.

John smiled to himself,
then
observed something
different
about the facial expression. How was it that he had never noticed how lush and full her lips were? He stared at her mouth, captivated. Once the image of that enticing mouth was brought to his attention, he couldn't seem to let go of the sight. What would those soft, full lips feel like
beneath his own
?

Chloe's lips.

Opening for him, inviting him inside…

The unbidden image almost caused him to groan out loud. Fortunately, he was able to stop himself in time.

John blinked; he had never even thought of Chloe in that way before. Be that as it may, now that he had imagined it, he intended to investigate.
Fully.
The very idea suddenly made him hot.
Red hot.

He would have to pounce, of course.

The situation called for nothing less. So John rubbed his chin as if still mulling her words over.

Chloe watched him, alert as a hawk.

Almost time
, he told himself,
but not yet
…

Sensing John was close to telling her his answer, Chloe held her breath and leaned forward.

"I agree, then, Chloe; I'll marry you."
Now
!

Chloe released the breath she was holding, only to choke on it when his hands quickly came up to clasp her shoulders and tug her down on top of him.

"John!" She squirmed in his hold.

"First I want to have a taste of what I'll be getting." Strong arms encircled her, bringing her close. He dipped his head toward her.

Chloe gasped and tried to pull herself back. What had gotten into him? He had seemed so docile a minute ago… Yes, like a sleepy-eyed tiger!
she
admitted ruefully. There was no way she could allow this! As far as it went, she must remain off-limits to him until after the ceremony.

For one thing, he was far too experienced for her even to think she could control him; she would never be able to stop him from taking her. For another, if he found out how inexperienced she was
,
he would be off to
London in two shakes of a rake's tail.

As his lips descended she instantly put her hand up in front of her face to stop the contact.

"
Whaf
ar
you
doin
?" he mumbled against her fingers, voice muffled.

"No, we cannot." She spoke succinctly so he would understand her.

His arms tightened around her waist. He turned his mouth slightly so he could speak. "What do you mean, we can't? Of course we can. You said yourself you—"

Chloe shook her head. "It is a—a tradition with the
Fonbeaulard
women. We never anticipate the marriage bed." That part was true, as far as she knew. It seemed like a good excuse, too.

"Tradition?"
He looked as if he had never heard the word. "What do I care for some ridiculous tradition? Don't be silly, Chloe, let's—"

"No. I mean it, John. Not until after the wedding."

So that's what a frustrated rakehell looks like
, she marveled.
Must be a new look for him
.

John was irritated—more than he cared to admit. What did she
mean,
no?
"I don't understand this. You've already—"

Chloe swallowed.
Courage
.
"That's different. You are to be my husband. According to the tradition, we have to wait."
There. That sounds perfectly reasonable
.

He observed her intently.
"Hmm."

Was he getting suspicious? Chloe decided she needed to change his line of thinking.

"I mean, if you were anyone else, why then, it would be fine." She peeked up at him from under her lashes.

He seemed somewhat flabbergasted.

"Are you—are you saying you would be with someone else but not with me?" he choked out.

"Yes, of course. In fact, our agreement doesn't have to go into effect until we are actually wed, so…"She let the thought trail off meaningfully.

He just stared at her, dumbfounded.

This was a gamble, but one she had to take. "We could both be free, so to speak, until then. That is, if you wish it." She nodded enthusiastically to nettle him further.

It proved effective when that muscle in his jaw began working.

Please don't do it, John
. Chloe waited for his answer on pins and needles.
Why doesn't he say something
?

"As far as I am concerned," he finally bit out through clenched teeth, "the agreement is in effect. We'll wait.
Both
of us."

It was all she could do not to hug him. Instead, she feigned a nonchalant attitude, shrugging.
"Whatever you wish."

Her capitulation mollified him somewhat, even if he still seemed a bit disgruntled. "Does this mean we cannot even kiss till then?"

"Better not," she intoned. "I can never seem to stop myself with just a kiss, John," she confided to him.

The jade eyes narrowed.

Chapter Three

Maurice Bags a Viscount

"John and I are to be wed."

Stunned silence filled the room.

Chloe had decided to announce the momentous change that was about to take place in her life as soon as they were all gathered together in the drawing room after the evening meal. The "rope" had been looped about the rake's neck, and she surmised this was a good time to give it a yank.

John glared at her.

Well, what did he expect? She returned his look with a catlike smile.
Sorry, John, no reprieve for you
.

Grandmere
had just finished commenting on the conditions in
France, saying that nothing had been the same since the Parisian mobs had pulled that red bonnet over the ears of Louis. At Chloe's announcement, she sat back in her chair, her hand coming to her throat in a gesture of shock.

Apparently the Terror could not hold a candle to this bit of news.

Deiter
grunted and Schnapps showed a tooth.

Maurice was the first to recover. Eyes gleaming with an unnamed satisfaction, he gave his nephew a knowing look.
"Ho
ho
!"
John shifted in his seat, refusing to meet his uncle's eye. He seemed to take an unprecedented interest in the pastoral scene depicted on the wallpaper to his left.

Maurice began to hum the same tune he had earlier regarding the mouse and the cat.

"
Mon
Dieu
, is this true, John?"
Grandmere
finally found her voice.

John leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his spread knees, hands linked together between. He'd best try to explain this. And he would… as soon as he figured it out for himself. How had Chloe managed it? He had been wondering that all afternoon.

"Well, you see, Countess—"

"You haven't!"
Grandmere
turned pale. "But you have only been back a few hours, John.
Mon
Dieu
, tell me you haven't debauched her!"

The countess looked back and forth between the two of them. John seemed ill at ease, while Chloe looked like… like a mouse
who
had just swallowed a cat.

"In my village, men who take such liberties are tied to the side of a barn for four weeks."
Deiter
always had an anecdote involving the mysterious village in
Germany where he supposedly grew up. The tales never seemed to make much sense, but Chloe thought they were deliciously lurid.

That was, when he managed to finish one without falling asleep.

"We are not talking of barns,
Deiter
; we are talking of our little Chloe being ruined!" The countess whipped out her lavender-scented lace handkerchief and began dabbing at her eyes. The handkerchief afforded her the shield she needed so she could flash a secret smile to Maurice.

Maurice covertly winked back at her.

John frowned. "No. If you just listen to me—"

"I think it is very romantic." Maurice shrugged in a typically Gallic manner. "It is spring, is it not?
The season for
amour
."

John tried again. "This has nothing to do with—"

"… Such men are left without food or water,"
Deiter
continued inexorably, his black eyes taking on a strange glint. They always glowed when he was getting to the fiendish part of the tale. "Soon they begin to howl at the moon—"