Forbidden (46 page)

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Authors: Rachel van Dyken,Kelly Martin,Nadine Millard,Kristin Vayden

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #Regency Romance, #london romance, #fairtale romance, #fairytale london romance, #fairytale romance regency, #london fair tale romance, #london fairtale, #regency fairytale romance

BOOK: Forbidden
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"Benedict?" Her voice was groggy from
sleep.

"Yes?"
Run, run
! His head screamed at
him, old habits died hard, and he wanted desperately to show her
how much he cared for her, to make her his before the vows were
said.

"Thank you for my Christmas carriage."

His heart melted, then began hammering in his
chest, it was nearly painful, the way her words affected him,
making him want to hit himself in order to return to reality.

"You're welcome." His hand touched the
door.

"Benedict?"

"Yes," he near growled. She had no idea the
danger she was in of losing that precious virginity a week before
she planned.

"Stay."

Fighting the urge to roar like a Neanderthal,
Benedict chuckled. "Love, that wouldn't be a good idea."

"Please?" She rose from the bed just
slightly, her hair falling across her shoulders in waves. His
imagination would never be able to dream up a woman of her beauty,
of the absolute devastating pull she had on him.

"If I stay…" Benedict groaned and leaned his
head against the door. "I'll only stay until you're once again
asleep, love, then I need to leave."

She sighed and lay back down on the bed.

He walked cautiously to the other side, not
bothering to take off his boots, for that would be the beginning of
the end. As far as his body was concerned, taking his boots off
while lying next to a beautiful woman meant he was about to take
off the rest of his clothes.

And he wasn't sure he would be able to stop
with his boots.

Hilarious that the Devil Duke would need to
keep his boots on in order to keep his lust in check.

"Sleep." He kissed her forehead, but she
reached up and pulled his head closer to hers, opening her mouth to
him.

He should have run.

He should have escaped when he had the
chance.

He should have said no.

Hang honor, hang it all.

His lips crushed hers, Benedict's hands
grasped her wrists pinning her to the bed as he nipped her lower
lip, tugging it between his teeth.

She moaned.

He cursed then straddled her, because at the
time it seemed the only option, not that it was intelligent by any
stretch of the imagination.

Her body fit perfectly underneath him. Of
course it would. He tugged at her bodice, pulling it down to her
waist.

And then froze.

Time stood still.

He hated he was using such clichés in his
mind, yet time did seem to stand still as he glimpsed her.

Bewildered that he was able to think beyond
pleasuring her, he slowly pulled her bodice back up and kissed her
gently across her lips.

"I'm going to give you more."

"What?" Her eyelashes fluttered against her
cheeks. "You don't want to…?"

"I want to give you the moon." He kissed her
cheek. "I want to give, not take."

She nodded.

"Kate, you are far too special, and I fear it
would be over before it began, for I find I'm having trouble
controlling myself at this moment."

She smiled and touched his face with her
hand.

"Goodnight, my sweet."

"Goodnight," she mumbled then turned to her
side and closed her eyes.

 

 

To say that Benedict
had a good night's sleep would have been a grotesque lie straight
from the pit of Hades.

He did not, in fact, have a good night, nor
did he sleep.

Oh, he was prone to exaggeration, this much
was true, but when his valet came into the room to help him dress,
he was already sitting in front of the fire, twiddling his thumbs,
or if he was being completely honest with himself, thinking of
Katherine.

"Your grace?" His valet's eyes were so
incredibly wide it was amusing, except for the fact that Benedict
was grumpy and tired, and truth be told, slightly aroused, even
still. God save him.

"Well, let's get on with it," Benedict
snapped. When he looked in the mirror he nearly burst out laughing,
apparently insanity was a close friend whilst running on little to
no sleep. But he couldn't help himself.

"You're drunk then?" It was a statement from
his otherwise stiff-necked valet. No doubt he was used to seeing
Benedict at his worst.

But that was what kept making him laugh. He
had stayed up all night, thinking about one woman. He hadn't been
out with his mistresses, nor had he been at the gambling hells. He
had simply sat in a chair, and he looked as though he had just
spent the night in the worst parts of London.

"No," he answered. "I'm not drunk, but I will
admit to being slightly unstable, in the emotional sort of way, so
if you'll be quick about your duties, I have a woman to attend
to."

"Always do."

"What was that?" Benedict snapped.

"Good for you." His valet smiled cheekily and
patted his back smoothing out the lines of the coat. "It is the
best I can do in your drunken state, your grace."

"Again, I'm not drunk."

"If you say so."

Benedict pointed to the door. His valet
lifted up his hands in mock fear and walked out. That was the
problem having the best valet money could buy — the man could
afford to have an attitude.

Benedict clapped his hands together and
nearly ran out the door, tumbling right into a woman.

"Apologies, I…"

Katherine looked up with bright eyes and a
shy smile. "Benedict." Her chest heaved though he knew it couldn't
possibly be exertion.

"How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Like a baby," he lied and offered his arm.
"So, what shall we do today?"

"Well," Katherine blushed just slightly, the
color bringing a rosy hue to her delicate cheekbones. "I thought
perhaps we could have a snowball fight."

"In public?" He placed a hand over his chest
and pretended to be offended. "My dear, dukes do not run around in
public throwing snowballs. I don't know what anyone has told you
about me, but…"

She threw back her head and laughed. "But,
good sir, I was under the impression that dukes can do
anything!"

"If only." Lust pounded in his veins, and he
clenched his fists as he watched her eyes dilate and lips part.
"Perhaps we'd best join the others."

"Perhaps." The minx winked and reached for
his arm.

 

 

One fort, three
snowball
fights — all of which she lost — and two meals
later, and Katherine was utterly exhausted. It took everything
within her not to take a nap before dinner.

Once dinner was finished, she could barely
keep her eyes open. But she didn't want to miss a thing. Benedict
had been called back to Town that evening on business, so he was
ordering servants around in order to rush back in time. Though he
needn't meet with his solicitor until morning, he apparently wanted
to get a head start, which was a tad frustrating for Katherine, but
she didn't mind. She'd follow a few hours later and would soon be
in London, waiting to marry the man she had once despised.

Lord Marks cleared his throat. "I thought a
few games of whist would revive some of you after this day's
festivities. You will find several tables set up in the purple
salon as well as sherry and port. Please, enjoy your final night
here."

A loud thumping echoed throughout the room.
Katherine glanced about, trying to locate the source. It couldn't
have been Agatha's cane; ever since the ice-skating she had taken
to her room feigning illness, or in Benedict's words, just biding
her time until she snapped at one of them again.

The thumping continued, until finally
Katherine turned around. Lord Marks was hitting his cane on the
corner of his boot.

The rest of the dinner party had left,
leaving them alone.

"May I ask a favor of you, Lady
Katherine?"

"Of course."

He leaned forward. "I appreciate what his
grace and you have done in respect to the Duke of Paisley and my
daughter. I was wondering if you won't give me one more boon before
everyone leaves?"

"Absolutely."

"My daughter…" He sighed deeply. "…she is
very competitive. Why don't we arrange for you and Baldwyn to sit
near one another, perhaps be partners in a few games. I think it
might be the very thing to get her to admit her feelings. I
believe, as a father, I'm resorting to jealousy to get my daughter
to become vulnerable. I hope I do not live to regret it."

Katherine smiled. "You won't, and I'll do my
best."

Which she did.

Three hours later, she and Paisley were
laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, and it was all
because he could not play the game to save his life. He was awful.
Terrible, more like it.

Lady Anastasia was never without wine in her
hand, and after a while Katherine became a little more than nervous
that Lady Anastasia was going to topple over. Instead, her face
became redder by the minute until finally she had an outburst.

"The two of you are rather cozy. And where is
the Duke of Banbury at present, Lady Katherine?" Lady Anastasia
coolly eyed Paisley as well as Katherine, a bitter smile spreading
across her lips.

Unfortunately everyone was privy to her
little speech.

Causing the game to stop.

And Paisley to grow pale.

"You know well, Lady Anastasia, that my
fiancé
has retired early." Katherine kept her gaze level on
Anastasia, hoping to convey the message for her to stop making a
scene in front of everyone and embarrassing poor Paisley, for it
was evident that he cared for her so. But the women continued to
talk.

"How fortunate for Paisley."

Katherine gasped, then quickly offered her
apologies and went in search of Benedict, for she hadn't meant to
hurt Lady Anastasia's feelings, at least not in that way. She had
only hoped to spur the girl on as Lord Marks had suggested. The
wine had not proven helpful, that much was certain.

She ran up the stairs to Benedict's chambers,
nearly out of breath when she knocked on his door.

CHAPTER TWENTY

A Man's Shame

 

Knock, Knock,
Knock.

Benedict went to the door to open it, but the
person on the other side was obviously in a losing battle with
patience, it swung wide nearly hitting him in the face.

"Should have known," he grumbled.

"Sorry," Katherine said. "May we leave
now?"

"In the evening?" Benedict scowled. "I meant
to leave first thing in the morning. Do you think you can practice
patience until then?"

She bit her lip and crossed her arms.

"What happened?"

"Hmm?" She gave him an innocent look, much
like a cat hiding a mouse under its paw.

"What happened?" he repeated, grasping her
crossed arms and pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Lady Anastasia drank too much, yelled at me,
made me feel a fool, and now I just want to go home."

He turned slightly toward the light to get a
better look at her face. Was she crying?

"See? That wasn't too hard." He lifted her
quivering chin and kissed a fallen tear. "We'll leave
immediately."

Within a half hour, they were in the carriage
on their way back into London.

"Now." Benedict patted Katherine's hand.
"Tell me what is really going on in that little head."

Katherine smiled. "Well, you see. I think
Anastasia loves your cousin desperately, and she accused me of
flirting with him, which is ridiculous. He was my partner in cards,
nothing more."

I believe I know how Lady Anastasia
feels…
But Benedict fought the surge of jealousy.

"It doesn't matter. She yelled and was quite
embarrassed and left the room. Paisley went after her, and I just
figured it would be better if we were not at the house. That way,
he cannot go looking for you when he gets afraid of the woman, and
she cannot spend time apologizing to me." She proceeded to tell him
about her and Lord Marks' agreement.

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