A Little Bit Wicked (16 page)

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Authors: Robyn Dehart

BOOK: A Little Bit Wicked
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The woman tossed back her head and laughed at something Marcus said.

“You don’t have a guess, Miss March?” Annie, who was seated to her right, asked. “You’re so very clever at this game.”

Vivian snapped her attention back to the game, but staring in front of her did not turn the thoughts off in her mind. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.

The older woman to her left patted Vivian’s hand. “The headaches happen more and more as we age,” she said, as if they were of the same age, even though she had a good twenty years on Vivian. “This charades game is a delightful way to spend time. One would think we would have more of it in Town.”

“Oh yes, charades in Town would be lovely,” Vivian agreed even though she didn’t care if she ever played charades again. “Could you tell me who that woman is with Lord Ashford?” She obviously knew who it was, but hoped the woman would tell her not only Diana’s name, but something about her.

The other woman nodded knowingly. “You’re right to be cautious. I know you are trying to find him a bride and Diana Cosgrove, while unmarried, would not be a good match.” The woman looked around, and then leaned closer to whisper. “She’s a most unpleasant woman.”

“Unpleasant” didn’t begin to describe the heavy feeling that had settled in Vivian’s stomach. It was not wariness or caution, but rather an ugly feeling of bone-chilling envy.

Jealousy stemmed from only two emotions: hatred and love. And she knew one thing for certain—she did not hate Marcus.

Chapter Sixteen

Vivian sat in her room waiting for the appropriate time to go downstairs for dinner. She was tempted to send for a tray, beg off with a headache or some such ailment, but decided that would be bad form considering she’d put this whole weekend together. Elizabeth might never forgive her, and she did hate to disappoint people.

So she sat on the stool at the foot of her bed, waiting. She was still angry—angry with herself, angry with Marcus, and angry at her damned realization.

She refused to believe that she loved Marcus. This was simply the same sort of scenario that had happened to her before. A man showed interest and she bared her heart to him. At least this time she hadn’t been so foolish as to tell him she loved him. It would pass; it had passed the last time. She should consider it nothing more than a fever. Some rest time, some distractions, and soon enough Marcus Kincaid would be but a memory to her. Though she loathed her mind for going there, she wondered what he was doing right now. Was he seducing Diana Cosgrove as Vivian sat and waited for dinner? Would he smile at her and pretend nothing had transpired? Well, she simply couldn’t pretend.

Last night had been one of the best nights of her life. That she would not deny or try to dress up in some other meaning. But she’d be damned if she’d play the fool again. This time while she waited to see if her body carried his child, she wouldn’t worry so much as to what everyone thought. She was four and thirty, so what did it matter? No one was going to marry her, so who gave a damn if she had a tryst that ended up in a pregnancy? Hadn’t he told her that women her age decided to have affairs all the time? Perhaps if she did carry his child, she would retire from society, for a time.

There was a slight rap at her door. She stood and went over to it. “Who is it?”

The only response was another knock. So she opened the door and Marcus stepped inside.

He pushed her up against the door and pressed himself against her, crashing his mouth down on hers. “I’ve waited for this moment all day,” he said between kisses.

She shoved against his chest, pushing him off her. She had to gather her wits about her before his kisses made her forget what she was about.

“What’s the matter, Vivi?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

“Are you daft?”

“Evidently, as I have no notion as to why you are so angry with me. When you left me this morning, you were in a most delightful mood,” he said.

“Yes, that was before I’d realized what a fool I’d been. You seduced me to prove that you could and then once you’d conquered me, you moved on to someone else. What’s the matter, Marcus? Did she turn you down? So you had to come back to me?”

“Vivian, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Diana Cosgrove. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the two of you in the back of the room, heads pressed together, whispering?” She shook her head. “Is it that you are truly attracted to older women, or do we just present no challenge? We’re easy prey for your seductions?”

He shook his head. “I have no interest in Diana Cosgrove, least of all in seducing her. You are a fool if you would think such a thing.” He released a tight chuckle. “And you have been anything but easy, love. Is it not clear that I want you, Vivian, only you?”

His words poured over her like a soothing balm, but her mind told her to stand her ground, to keep fighting. Starting an affair with Marcus would certainly lead to heartbreak, and she didn’t deserve to be hurt again.

You’ve survived heartbreak before
, a voice reminded her. If she needed to, she could survive it again. Or perhaps this time it wouldn’t hurt—perhaps that first time had only been because it was so unexpected and she’d had such grandiose expectations. She had no such notions this time, merely craving the carnal pleasures his flesh could bring her.

Other women did this. Other women chose men to be their lovers, and then when that affair ended, they were free to choose another. She could be one of those women.

So when he reached for her, she allowed him to pull her into his arms. He kissed her and once again backed her up against the door. Before she knew it he’d lifted her, wrapped her legs around his waist, and entered her. He thrust into her again and again, the heavy wood of the door pressing into her back. He kissed her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers.

She knew in that moment, as long as she lived, she’d never get enough of this man. It was a terrifying thought. Her climax rocketed through her and she clung to him as he continued to move himself in and out. And then he found his own release. They stayed in that position a few moments while he pressed tender kisses to her lips and cheeks.

In her mind she heard his words again and again: “I want you, Vivian, only you…”


Nearly four hours later, the guests had had dinner and the ball had begun. He had even done his duty and danced with women. Granted, he’d danced with matrons as well as the maidens that had been selected for him. Still, he danced. It was easier to be around them now that he’d made his choice.

This went beyond practicality and desire. Marcus might as well admit that much to himself. He was fond of Vivian. More than fond. What exactly came after fondness he was unsure. But he would wager that Vivian, like most women, would want more than simple fondness when it came to marriage. Even though she spouted that she had no desire to marry, that she was far too old, Marcus knew that was nothing more than a lie she told. Perhaps the lie went so far that she even believed it at times.

He wasn’t certain if he’d ever love Vivian the way his father had loved his mother or the way that Charles had loved his Rebecca, but Marcus knew if there had ever been a woman he
could
love, Vivian was she. And that was enough for him to ask her to be his wife.

So when he found her standing in a quiet corner of the ballroom, he approached. Though she looked every bit the proper lady, he knew the seductress inside. He took her hand to place a kiss on it, but flipped it over, slid down her glove and kissed the exposed flesh of her wrist. She sucked in a breath.

“Dance with me. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

Vivian stared up at him. She couldn’t resist thinking about how only a handful of hours before, he’d had her pressed up against her door. Warmth spread through her and she knew a blush stained her cheeks. She opened her fan and waved it in front of her.

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a grin. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, I was merely attempting to cool myself. It is rather warm in here.” She snapped the fan closed and allowed it to dangle from her wrist.

“Dance with me, Vivian.”

She inclined her head and he took her out onto the dance floor. Perhaps he was going to tell her which girl he had chosen to court. She appreciated him wanting to share the information with her. After all, this entire situation had been her doing. Still, part of her didn’t want to know. But she’d find out sooner or later, and better to hear it from him, she supposed.

She knew it would sting once he committed to another woman, but she also knew the pain wouldn’t last long. Selecting a bride for himself would give him a reason, other than his sister and aunt, to stay in England. A reason to finally resign from his position and take himself seriously as the leader of that family.

He swept her into his arms. The waltz moved them across the floor until she nearly forgot about everything but this moment in his arms. Until he’d returned, she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed dancing. He held her too close. There was practically no space between their torsos, and she knew she should protest, but his arms felt too good.

She felt so safe with him, so protected, that she nearly forgot about the blackmail letter from Frederick. Again she was tempted to tell Marcus, to seek his assistance or at the very least his advice on how to proceed, but she was too afraid of seeing disgust in his face when he found out about her past.

“You look beautiful when you smile like that.”

She met his eyes. “I had not realized I was smiling.” Then she paused for a second before asking, “What do you mean by that? One smile is no different from another.”

“Wrong. You have many different kinds of smiles. That one, in particular, is my favorite. It is when you let down that guard of yours, when you forget for a moment that you’re The Paragon, and you are simply Vivian. It is a smile unlike any I’ve ever seen. On anyone.”

It was quite likely the single best compliment she’d ever received in her life. And it should have scared the hell out of her that he could so easily see past the charade she’d put on in front of all of these people for the last ten years to the woman inside. “How do you know that?” she whispered.

“Vivian, do you know what a guide does on adventure holidays?” When she shook her head, he continued. “It was my job to not only know the history of the locales we visited, to know how to relate to the native people, but also to watch for signs of danger. You would think that mostly those signs would come from the deadly animals, but it didn’t. It was people, thinking they knew better, believing their entitlement crossed oceans and borders and betrayed the laws of the wild. I watch people.”

He spoke so close to her ear, she could feel his breath.

Her heart quickened. There was still so much of him she did not know, so much she did not understand. He had evidently been quite good at his post with the adventure tour company, but certainly those survival skills could serve him equally well here in England.

He pulled back slightly so he could face her. No humor lit his eyes; instead, they focused intently on hers, never wavering, just looking at her with raw honesty.

“Marry me, Vivian.”

Her heart stopped beating, she was certain of it. Never in her wildest imaginings would she have thought those words would come out of his mouth. Her throat tightened and for a moment she was unsure if she’d be able to speak. She swallowed tears and took a deep breath. “Marcus, if this is where this conversation is going, then the dance is over.”

“Hear me out, please. Vivian, there is something here between us. I know you cannot deny it, either. You’ve felt it. We’re good together.” He looked deep into her eyes. “So good,” he said and she knew precisely what he meant.

“Marriages are not built on that,” she whispered.

“Marriages have been built on far less. You must know I care for you.”

What he said was true, but it didn’t make it right. People did not marry because of carnal desires. It was not something they should even know about one another. If she were a proper lady, she’d have remained untouched all these years.

She became increasingly aware of his touch at the moment. His hand cradling her own, the other pressing the small of her back. She needed to get away from him.

“I thought you would be pleased,” he said. “I have come to the conclusion that you are right, that I do need to get married.”

Her hands shook and her heart beat wildly. She chose her words carefully so as not to reveal any of her inner turmoil. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses, but I certainly never meant that I should be the woman you propose to. What of all the other girls? Of Lady Constance or Annie?”

“Vivian, do not be dense, love. Who spent the evening in my arms, and earlier today? I have made my choice. Do you honestly believe I would so casually move from your bed to that of another woman?”

Her heart fell to her toes. She stopped moving and he almost tripped over her.

He led her off the dance floor and over to a solitary window by the terrace. She glanced around expecting to find eyes turned their way, but surprisingly, no one had turned to them.

She looked up at him, knowing full well that tears threatened to pour from her eyes. “You have decided that if you have to marry, you will pick me because—because you are pleased with my lovemaking skills?” Her words came out hushed and raw, and she knew any moment she would lose the fight and the tears would win.

“That is only one aspect.” He reached to touch her, but she sidestepped him. “I decided that if I must marry, you would be my first choice. I enjoy your company.”

She should not be completely surprised. She had behaved the harlot around him. Everything he said was true, but she also couldn’t help but notice he mentioned no tender feelings.

“And you believe that this will make a marriage? Marcus, I am seven years your senior. I know that that means nothing to you, but to the people here, the people in London—” She shook her head. “You refuse to see how great a scandal that would be.”

“No, what you seem to not hear is when I tell you that I do not care what people think or say. Vivian, if your age does not matter to me, why should it matter to you?”

“I’m sorry, I cannot.”

“But—”

She held her hand up. “No. It is my final answer. Go find a younger girl, Marcus. You deserve someone innocent, you deserve a wife whose body isn’t tarnished and used.” And with that, she walked away.

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