My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) (10 page)

Smiling, Anne felt a pang of jealousy at her obvious love for her husband, even after five years. “You’re very in love.”

“Oh, yes. It wasn’t always so, but we just connected during a sticky situation.”

“I’m the lucky one, darling.” The gentlemen entered the room. Henry’s eyes gleamed with love for his wife as he bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek before settling into the seat at the head of the table. He gave her an indulgent smile. Addison, sat next to her. She could feel the heat radiating from him.

Anne shifted uncomfortably.

“Addison, whatever has happened? Are you displeased?” Isabel frowned, Anne turned to see his piercing eyes directed to her.

He smiled, then, turning his attention to their hostess.

“I’m not angry, Izzy, just curious.”

“Curious? Whatever about?”

Henry coughed, his hand disappearing beneath the table. Isabel’s eyes grew large for a moment. “Shall we eat?”

He called for their servers and the food began to arrive.

Being an exceptional hostess came easy to Isabel. The lady was able to bring about smiles and conversation with ease. They spoke of Charles Town and England, Henry and Addison diving in and filling the room with lively stories of relatives back home. Anne learned Addison had a twin and owned property in Scotland.

“Anne, I noticed a slight accent to your voice. Were you not born here?” His smile was very charming, and Anne understood why Isabel had been so captivated by her husband. Bloody hell, but why did the conversation have to turn to her?

How had Henry heard her accent? She thought it only apparent during frustration. She shot a glance at Addison before answering, for he’d seen her in a temper a number of times already.

“Ireland. My father brought us here when I was still a child.”

“How wonderful. My father is Irish, although my husband would rather that side of my heritage be hidden.” Isabel gave her husband an adoring, teasing smile.

Henry grabbed her hand where it lay on the table, giving it a squeeze. He winked at Anne.

“It’s the temper I would rather remain hidden.”

Laughter filled the room. Anne peeked over to see Addison was not joining in but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. She was surprised he was not going to say something about her own temper.

“Addison tells me you enjoy sailing, Anne. Your trip from Ireland, is that where you learned you loved to sail? You’ll have to tell us of your travels.”

Back onto this again? This did give her a prime opportunity to show the man he didn’t want to marry her. Her hosts’ rapt attention and curious glances filled her with a small amount of guilt, but it was an opportunity she could not pass up.

“I would love to sail more, but it makes me so sick.” Isabel gave her a moment to compose what she would say that would not offend their hosts too badly. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings, after all. They were nice people.

“I guess the first time could have been my journey across the sea from Ireland. I’ve been on many a ship since then. There is nothing like the sea-spray in your hair, the taste of salt on your skin.”

Steam rose from the fresh-from-the-oven, warm pies placed before each of them. The servants left the room. Anne kept her eyes on her plate, moving the first course around with her fork.

Addison stirred next to her. Every movement made her more aware of his heat, the smell of spice, and that hint of something extra male emitting from his skin.

Looking up, Henry’s eyes were a crystal blue, and a twinkle radiated from them—as if he knew she were up to mischief.

“Adventurous. Tell us, where have you gone?”

“Probably not too many places a lady should go.” She laughed in the silence that followed, daring to look at her guests.

Henry and Isabel’s facial expressions were indeed curious, wide-eyed. She determined not to look at Addison.

“Oh, I’d love to hear about these places.” Isabel’s voice grew with excitement as her comment cut into the quiet room.

Henry smiled at her. “I say, I don’t think I’ve gone too many places a lady should go, either.”

His wife laughed. Anne grinned, and felt Addison shift next to her at the same time the loud smack of his fork hitting the plate split the air.

“Implying you’re not a lady? Or, that no lady would dare find herself there?” Addison’s voice was calm, yet Anne felt his displeasure in waves.

“I have never implied I am a lady, Lord Blackhurst.” She needn’t glance in Addison’s direction to ascertain a vein most likely ticked along the side of his head. Henry’s eyes widened momentarily, but he, too, felt the discontent suddenly filling the room.

“I say, Isabel, darling, I think we should check and make certain the parlor is readied.”

Isabel eyed Addison before she nodded. “Yes, of course,” she stood and marched through the door at the rear of the dining room.

“Excuse us for a moment.” Henry followed his wife.

Addison stood abruptly, pulled Anne’s chair backward, and in the process, nearly knocked her spoon from her hand.

“What are you doing?” She stood to face him, knowing she’d irked him yet was not prepared for such a quick reaction.

His eyes glittered as he grabbed her arm.

“Wait a minute!” She tried to pull free.

With a gentle, yet forceful tug, he ushered her through the door and down the hallway. “We should speak privately.”

Chapter 10

Her fiancé had shoved her, unceremoniously, inside what appeared to be Henry’s study. Dark, and lit with only a few candles placed about on the solitary desk, the study was rather small in comparison to the one at Cranford Hall.

No sooner had she taken in her surroundings, than the door clicked shut behind her. She spun around to face Addison as he palmed her shoulders and forced them backward to stand before a desk.

“Madam, I would appreciate if you could refrain from the attempt to disaffect yourself from me, for one evening.” His tone was level, bored even, but his eyes sparked with anger. “They do not need to know your ideas on how much of a lady—or lack thereof—you are.”

He stood only a foot from her, but the sizzling heat penetrated the air between them. She tried to take a step backward, but the desk didn’t allow her the room to do so. Raising her chin, she looked him in the eye.

“I do not know what you’re talking about. I merely answered Isabel’s question. I then answered your question. It was a simple conversation.” She raised a brow. “Was it something I said?”

His jaw clenched momentarily before he spoke.

“You are intelligent enough to know these people are not the source of your ire, and there is no need to try to convince them of your
unfitness
to be my wife. If you’re angry with me, then be so. But, refrain from your attempts at degrading yourself in a public setting.”

She knew she’d incited his ire, and wasn’t that what she’d been aiming for? His arms had fallen slack at his side, but his tense stance and rigid form were responses only anger could provoke—and the tick that continued in the vein at his temple.

Aiming a direct hit was freeing, but he should know the difference between anger and mere words. “If I were angry at you,
My Lord
, you’d know it.”

She swallowed hard as his gaze slowly moved down her face, to her neck, and over her barely covered breasts. She stiffened at the physical caress his eyes gave her, and the molten trail that seemed to ignite beneath the skin he touched with the steel of his eyes. Her heart picked up its pace when his gaze found hers again, mouth becoming dry.

“Would I?” He reached out a long, tanned finger and ran it down her neck in an achingly slow motion, and swirled the tip over the top of her right breast. The callous texture of his fingertip rough and stimulating. “I do still have my head, no blood. No dishes or breakable items have flown past my head.”

The trail of his finger left a wake of instant heat. Her knees trembled and she sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to close her eyes against the pleasurable sensation.

Instead, she found her will and smacked his hand away. “Stop that.”

His eyes glittered with passion, all teasing gone from his expression. “You were giving Henry a delicious smile, but you have none for your groom?”

Fisting her hands at her sides, she licked lips suddenly dry at the intensity of passion in his gaze. A familiar liquid sensation coursed down through her lower belly to rest between her thighs.

“You are jealous of your friend?”

The wolfish grin that tilted his lips then did not bode well for her, she was sure. An overwhelming urge to bolt assailed her. She had to make an exit before her body betrayed her.

Not wanting him to think her a coward, she leaned forward, rapid heartbeat pounding away. “Perhaps if you were as charming as Henry, we could have foregone this conversation.” She tried to push past him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to finish visiting with
our
neighbors.”

Once again, he gripped her at the elbow, gentle yet forceful, and pushed her back, against the desk.

“I’ll not excuse you. Not that easily.”

She ground her teeth together, her chest heaving, as she met the depths of the mesmerizing silver of his eyes.

His pupils dilated as he advanced, wrapping his arm around her back, pushing her bottom further back onto the edge of the desk, her body snug to his. The fit of his lower body to hers was undeniable.

His heat penetrated through her gown, touching her everywhere, from his chest pressing against her breasts to his hips pressing between her legs. He towered over her, head bent, lips parted and wet.

Gasping in surprise, his supple lips pressed down onto hers, taking possession. His tongue slid, agonizing and slow, along the inside of her bottom lip and between her teeth. She should protest and push him off, but all she could do was stand there, heat swirling, her head spinning, the telltale hardness pressing into her core, and his tongue dancing inside her mouth.

She opened to him, fully, her tongue slashing across his. Anger and desire mixed as his lips scorched hers, and a sudden fire surged within her.

She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

Grabbing her by the hips, he ground against her, his erection pressed into her core. A molten shot of desire breached that special place betwixt her thighs. Had the fabric of her gown not been in his way, she was unsure of what state she’d be in right now.

A warm, calloused hand massaged one cheek of her derriere as he stroked his hardened manhood into the apex of her thighs. Moaning low in her throat as his hips gyrated into her, the sensations racing through her limbs, a tingling deep inside her body where their bodies met intensified—if that were possible. A puddle of heat forming there, a distinct wetness, and an ardent need assailed her.

His hand released her waist to trail down one side of her gown. Grabbing the inside of her calf, he raised her leg, opening her core to more of the sweet, maddening sensation as the hardened flesh beneath his trousers slowly rubbed against her. Addison guided her hip as his tongue slid into her mouth, then nipped her lower lip to suck on the fatness there.

Her gown shifting upward, a finger slowly glided, rising higher to tickle the flesh at the top of her garter—garters Elizabeth Browning had suggested she take—wicked, wicked, tantalizing lacey garters. Anne wondered what demon rode her to wear them beneath the gown this evening.

A low growl emanated deep in Addison’s throat as his fingers caressed the lace and her bare skin. His tongue unleashed a new, fevered assault upon her mouth, and she knew now why she had let her more dangerous side tempt her to wear such revealing things.

Tearing his mouth away from hers, he slashed his lips along her chin, allowing his fingers to trail upward. She caught her breath, impatience and yearning assailed her. She anticipated his touch. Her secret place hungered for more of the sweet torment.

His tongue lashed down and over her collarbone to swirl lazily at the top of her breast, both of her hands were now entangled in his hair, her head thrown back and eyes closed. The supple feel of his lips tantalized her flesh. Small sounds escaped her lips that were foreign to her, as his fingers brushed her core through her undergarments. She nearly cried out with anticipation.

“You will surely be the death of me.” His voice was ragged against her breast, his tongue laving into her cleavage. Fingers caressed her through her undergarments, a real fire building deep within her.

“Mmmhmmm.” She sighed.

His tongue created delicious swirls along the tops of her breasts, the pressure of his fingers thrummed a hammering in her brain, a sweet pounding.

Pounding.

It was a moment before she registered the noise was real. Her eyes flew open as Addison’s assault on her breasts ceased, and she felt him slowly guide her leg to rest naturally with her foot upon the floor.

“Addison, is everything okay in there?” It was Henry on the other side of the study door, a concerned tone to his voice, come to check to make sure she was not being manhandled, she was sure.

Raising her head, Anne stared into eyes glistening with unfinished passion. Too stunned at these new, sensual sensations, she remained mute. The searing heat of almost getting caught crept up her neck and touched her cheeks.

“We’re fine, Henry. Anne and I are just having a scintillating discussion. We’re nearly finished.” His eyes rested meaningfully on her for a moment longer as he pulled at his jacket with a jerk, and stepped away from her. “I’m afraid we’ll have to continue elsewhere, unless you would like to continue in the carriage.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She swallowed hard upon noticing the peak-like protrusion straining against his trousers. Raising her eyes back to his face, her face flamed anew. A satisfied smile lit up his handsome features—a knowing smile.

A new fire replaced the old fire. How dare he think she would so easily continue. Denying every feeling coursing through her still tingling body was the only thing that would get her feet moving. But, all she wanted to do was pull him down to the floor to finish the sweet torture he’d begun.

“Oh!” She pushed at his chest. He allowed himself to fall back, away from her, as she stormed forward. “We will
not
be continuing anything, anywhere.”

She dared not turn to see him, for she knew he continued to smile, if the slight chuckle she heard was any indication. If she didn’t leave the room immediately, she would be begging him to make the ache within go away.

Patting her hair and adjusting her braid kept her moving forward. She reached for the doorknob. “I shall be returning to dinner, thank you.”

He grunted, and she could feel the heat of his eyes on her posterior. As she pulled open the door, a swift pat to her buttocks assisted her across the threshold.

She sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring at the pulsating fire the caress ignited once again, and hurried down the corridor. His deep voice followed her.

“We shall continue later, m’
lady
.”

With his threat lying like lead in the air, Anne nearly raced down the hall to where she heard Henry and Isabel’s soft voices in the parlor. They greeted her with a smile, Isabel patting the chaise lounge beside her. “Have a seat, Anne. We’ve much to discuss. Namely, a wedding.”

She succeeded in not grimacing, producing a wide smile instead. Her cheeks still burned from embarrassment and passion, but she knew her hosts would never give any credence to it. They were polite people.

“Yes, the wedding.” Addison called as he entered the room, directly on her heels. She avoided his stare and sat next to Isabel.

“What are your plans, chap?” Henry began to pour the men a round of Scotch.

“We’ve—”

“—Not yet decided on that exactly.” The smile she plastered on her face fooled her hosts. She’d not be forced into such a hasty decision.

Time. She needed more time. If a lack of proper breeding had angered Addison, so easily, then she’d need to continue in that vain. A week was not nearly enough time to fulfill her plans.

“Anne, you’ll have to allow me to help with the plans. I so love weddings, and especially weddings in the heart of summer.” She beckoned to her husband with a smile. “Henry, dear, they’ll have to perform the ceremony in the gardens. It’s the perfect spot.”

His look was indulgent. “Aye, that is a grand idea, my love.”

Addison took a long swig of his Scotch, eyeing her over the rim.

“That would b-b-be lovely.” It would not matter what she said, Addison would be calling it off soon if she had anything to do with it. She could play along for the neighbors.

Isabel clapped her hands. “Splendid, Anne. We’ll have to meet to gather all the particulars. Perhaps you could come by tomorrow or the day after. We’ll plan.”

“I’d love that.” She tapped Isabel on the hand before she approached the table where the Scotch had been placed. Henry’s eyebrows rose above twinkling turquoise eyes as she poured a small glass of the amber liquid.

Lips pursed, Addison’s jaw twitched as she took a swig, allowing the fire to burn all the way down her throat. He raised his glass to her. “To planning, then.”

“Here, here!” Isabel and Henry’s voices rose in unison.

Sipping another mouthful, Anne raised her own glass. “To planning.”

Yes, to her escape.