A Touch of Passion (15 page)

She would be his viscountess. Pride rose to hug him. She was unlike any other woman he knew: intelligent, loyal, kind, and generous. Everything he wanted in a wife. However, she was also opinionated and stubborn, and she never cared about the rules.

For a viscount who wanted to make a difference, to get his peers to change their long-held beliefs on issues that needed to be addressed, his name had to have social standing. If his wife was seen as confrontational or, worse still, unconventional, how would he be perceived? He’d become a laughingstock if he couldn’t control his wife.

But damn, she was beautiful. A pity she didn’t keep her opinions to herself. She would certainly never be boring.

He’d thought her wildness a bad thing, but it was certainly stimulating. Perhaps he should give her the benefit of the doubt. She was, after all, a good woman at heart.

Like the moonlight flooding the room, emotions flooded through his heart. Mixed emotions. Confusing emotions. He tried to dam the rising tide of warmth and longing, but the flow was too strong.

He needed to think carefully where she was concerned. His idea to test what could be between them would see him treading a fine line. He had to take his emotions out of the situation and think logically. Therefore, he would not share her bed again until they married, no matter how much he longed to. If they made love once more, she might figure out how susceptible he was to her charms. That would weaken his position.

Coward. It is not your social standing that has you running, it’s fear.
He thought of his parents, his innocent little sister, and Robert, and grief seized every scrap of air in his lungs. It felt as if someone had shot an arrow straight through his heart, leaving a gaping, raw mess—one he knew could never be mended. The savage pain of loss was too great a price to pay for love.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to make sense of all that had happened since Christian had been accused of rape. Was there something bigger going on than he’d imagined? Framing him for murdering Portia was an extreme way to stop his investigation into Christian’s innocence.

One thing he did know was he’d never let anyone get near Portia again. Grayson shuddered to even think about the possibility of her death.

Over the past few days Portia had lost count of the times she’d cursed her attacker. Grayson declared that he would not come to her bed again until he could touch her bruised side without causing her to flinch. No matter how stoic she tried to be, his probing fingers gave the wound’s painfulness away.

Then, just as she was beginning to breathe easier and was able to move her arm without ten thousand daggers stabbing her side, Grayson decided that since they were almost in England, they should wait to renew their sexual congress once they were married.

How could he not want her in his bed? She just had to take one look at his handsome features, his broad shoulders, tight buttocks and powerful thighs, and all she could think of was getting him naked and on top of her. Blast her ribs!

“I don’t understand why you are wearing a scowl on such a sunny morning, especially as we shall reach Calais by dusk and England tomorrow night.” He tilted his head back to look her over. “Is it your ribs?”

“No, it’s not my bloody ribs, which are perfectly fine, by the way. It’s the stubborn man standing before me, if you must know.” She turned her back on his knowing smile and gripped the railing. “We have wasted the opportunity of several days of privacy, which we will not be afforded once we reach England.” She hung her head and fought to keep the tears at bay. “Not a great start to a marriage if you don’t even desire me.”

Two large hands rested on her shoulders, and he drew her back to lean against his chest. “You think I don’t desire you?” He pushed his hips forward and she felt his erection. “I only have to hear you, or scent you, or see you, and I’m instantly hard. Seaton can’t understand why I’m in such a foul mood.”

She turned in his arms, her face searching his. “Then why? Why have you left me thinking the worst?”

He looked out to sea over her head, remaining silent for some time. At last he said, “It’s not that I don’t want you, but our relationship and situation is complicated enough without bringing sex into our lives so soon. I wanted time for us to learn how we can make this marriage work for both of us.”

She knew how to make it work—he just had to open his heart to her. She reached up and traced his sensuous lips with her finger. “I swore I would only ever marry for love. I want what my parents shared.”

He nodded. “I can understand that. Your parents loved each other deeply, but you know they were an exception in our world. Marriages within the
ton
occur for many reason, hardly ever love.” He sighed into the breeze. “Your friend Rose is a classic example of a
ton
marriage. Did her family not marry her off to a man three times her age for money and title?”

She looked him squarely in the eye. “You spent a lot of your childhood in my family’s home. I can’t believe you don’t want what my mother and father shared. It was a true partnership built on love, trust, and respect.”

“I might have wanted that at one time, but I soon understood that your parents’ type of marriage was not for me.”

She drew back out of his arms. The crisp ocean breeze was not the only reason her body went cold. “I don’t understand you. I know the war and losing Robert changed you, as it would have changed anyone. But you can’t withdraw from life. If you do, what was all the loss and suffering for?”

“I ask myself that question frequently. What
was
all the bloodshed and loss for? It made me remember my father and how he led his life. He took his role as head of our family seriously. He knew he had responsibility for our family, our tenants, and, through the House of Lords, our country.”

She felt her stomach clench. It seemed to her that Grayson was comparing her father to his. She remembered the late Lord Blackwood as a distinguished and formal man. He could be very kind—that is, if he noticed you at all. Her father had been a loving and happy man who lived not for title or duty but for his family. “That’s commendable, but I’m not sure a life of duty excludes a life filled with love.” She knew he was hiding something, and she had a good idea what it was—he was scared to love. He’d lost so many people in his life. “I won’t marry a man who doesn’t love me.”

He took a step back, almost pushing her out of his arms, his jaw doing that manly jutting-out thing. “You gave me your word.”

She nodded. “I did. And I won’t break it. I agreed to marry you when we got back to Flagstaff Castle. I simply won’t set foot in Flagstaff Castle again until you give up this absurd notion of honor or fall in love with me.”

She knew what would happen next. As she predicted, his hands rose to his hips and his left eye developed that telltale tic. “God damn you, Portia. You fully understood what you were agreeing to when you took me to your bed. What if you are with child?”

Her hand flew to her stomach. How delicious would that be, to carry his child.

“I will not have any child of mine born out of wedlock,” he pronounced. Any minute she expected to see steam coming out of Grayson’s ears.

A dreamy smile spread across her face; she couldn’t hide it. “I shall of course agree to become your wife if I am with child. However, I will not be ambushed into matrimony for an out-of-date convention such as honor.”

He moved toward her, an angry mass of maleness. Portia soon found herself pressed back against the railing. “Honor is how I live my life, how your brother lived his, and what he died for. I will not have a woman such as you deriding what I and many men fought and died for.”

She dropped her head in shame. He was right. “I’m sorry. That was a tactless thing to say.” Finally she looked up, hoping to plead her case. “But look at it from my point of view. I have not accepted countless numbers of proposals. I turned them all down because I want to marry for love. And now, through no fault of my own, you expect me to give up that dream.”

The hands lowered from his hips, and Grayson had the grace to forgive her thoughtless words about honor. “You are
slightly
to blame. You should never have gone to meet me that night.”

“We are going over old ground here. What is it you want in a wife that I cannot give you?”

He offered her his arm and indicated that they stroll the deck while talking. She shivered in the light breeze as her fingers touched the muscles flexing in his arm. He spoke quietly, as if to soften the blow of his words. “The Blackwood name is all I have left of my family. I won’t let anyone or anything vilify what I want the name to stand for. I want to continue with Robert’s work. He understood about duty and privilege.”

“He must have learned that from you. I don’t think father ever stepped into the House of Lords.”

He gave a pained smile. “I watched him change almost overnight. As soon as Robert joined up and saw the conditions his men endured, he knew he had found a cause dear to his heart. He wanted his men and their families looked after once the war ended. There were many who lost limbs, eyes …” He hugged her. “He died trying to save one of his men. War is a good training ground for learning about true sacrifice and duty. I believe my father was the epitome of duty.”

“Your estate is prosperous. Your father at least chose well in his estate manager.”

“No, I have your father to thank for ensuring I had an estate and money left to inherit. He at least knew how to count money.”

“My father loved you. Your father was his closest friend.” Portia sighed. “Duty or not, I know we could have a happy life together. I’ll challenge you, that’s true, but I’m not selfish enough to do anything that would disgrace your name. I would always support you and your dreams. Could you not support mine?”

Her words struck a nerve, for his mouth relaxed and an eyebrow rose. “You’re saying that I should take an interest in your dreams. I thought most women dream of a stable home, financial security, and children. What is it that you dream of? I thought by now you’d be content to marry and become a mother, as you’ve achieved more than most.”

“Most men never consider our needs, wants, or dreams. We may only be females, but we breathe, bleed, hurt, and desire just like men. What is so wrong with me wanting to achieve something for myself? Would you be happy to be defined by your wife’s achievements? Could you be kept by someone else, have to ask your husband or brother or father for money, and then find out you’ve been bartered away as good breeding stock?” She squeezed his arm. “Is that what you would have wanted for Lucinda?”

“I would have wanted her to be happy. I would have done anything to protect her.”

“I know you would have.” She reached up and kissed his lips lightly. “However, I am proud that I don’t have to rely on any man, or woman, for my livelihood. I earn enough from my business to never have to be a burden. It’s given me choices most women never have, and I owe it to myself and other women to make the most of my opportunities.”

“Robert was very proud of you, but he was conflicted. He wanted to see you married and settled. He thought you would grow tired of your independence.” He gave a laugh that spoke of the irony. “He even suggested I marry you, but knowing both of us well, he saw that it would not work.”

Portia felt the deck give way under her feet. Robert had discussed her with Grayson? Her own brother hadn’t thought she was good enough for his friend? She swung away before he saw her pain. “Then he must be turning in his grave right now, horrified that his friend must marry his wayward sister.”

“Perhaps. However, he’d be pleased to see you safe.”

She could not believe this. Robert had originally scolded her when he’d found out she’d set up her cider business, but eventually he’d helped her avoid more scandal by becoming the nominal head of the business. She thought he’d been proud of her, but perhaps he was merely reining in her more outlandish schemes.

“Robert wouldn’t have forced me to marry you. He’d want me to be happy.”

In the silence the wind seemed to drop. She swore the sails stopped flapping. He stepped closer and cupped her face, “I can make you happy,” he said, and then he kissed her.

It was a kiss that saw her falling into the sweetest dream. His warm lips sent longing racing through her. He kissed her as if she were the last woman on earth and he needed her. She could taste his desire and perhaps also a touch of desperation, as if he were trying to ensure her compliance with his betrothal offer.

For a moment she resisted his mouth’s seduction, trying to prove that she would not be a pushover. She suspected any other woman would have swooned, such was the power of his kiss. His tongue stroked her mouth as if she were the sweetest dessert, while his lips were gentle and commanding at the same time.

Her body melted from the inside out, and she gave in to the temptation and let her arms rise to circle his neck. She rubbed her aching breasts against his jacket. She suspected that if she’d been able to hike up her skirts, her legs would be around his waist.

When he finally lifted his head she would have agreed to anything he wanted. To be kissed like that for the rest of her life would be worth the price.

“We are not compatible in all things, but in my bed I suspect we will be very compatible. As to the rest, I know you’d never intentionally set out to dishonor me or my name, but for a woman who takes as many risks as you, it will invariably happen.” He pulled her roughly against him. Her hands rose to land on his muscled chest. Warmth flooded her body and she wanted him to kiss her again. But he merely hugged her tightly. “Whatever happens, I plan to keep you safe.”

“I don’t doubt it. You’ll want to lock me away like a bird in a cage, something lovely to look at and to display to visitors, and then expect me to be chirpy about it.”

“I’d hardly call my house a cage. You will come and go as you please. I’m not an ogre.”

“But you will expect me to defer to you.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I will of course discuss important issues with you—”