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Authors: Natasha Blackthorne

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Historical, #Romantic Erotica, #Romance, #Gothic

Perilous Risk (30 page)

BOOK: Perilous Risk
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“I am not lying,” he repeated, again firmly. “I would make you my baroness.”

His statement was unbearably romantic. She couldn’t deny that. She had to shake herself to clear her mind of the effect. “Of course it is a lie. You need an heir. It’s not likely I shall be able—or even willing—to give you one.”

“I don’t require an heir. My younger brother has four hale and hearty sons.” He leant back and the heat of his regard sent currents of heat into her blood. It was a little dizzying and she had to drop her gaze to his collar to regain her equilibrium. He traced his fingertip over the hollow of her collarbone. “But, once wed to me, you might change your mind. And a daughter would be the loveliest gift any woman could give a man. A daughter as perfectly beautiful and sweet and kind as you.”

A daughter.

Intense longing stabbed through her.

But it was too late for a daughter of her own. Far too late.

She had wasted the prime of her youth, following Jon around, allowing him to lead her into all sorts of carnal wickedness.

She swallowed against another swelling in her throat.

It was just too late.

“It is not too late for us, Rebecca,” he said, as though he could read her thoughts. “I know many women who had children into their mature years. You’ve spent too much time amongst the nobility, you’ve forgotten how the common people live. They don’t keep separate bedchambers. Wives and husbands continue to make love into their midlife and there are consequences of course.”

Of course she knew that many women continued to give birth into their mature years. But she couldn’t explain it but she had long believed it was hopeless for
her
.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

“Stephen, you’re no longer a commoner. You cannot expect to wed someone like me and have it be accepted.”

“I do not care to please anyone but myself. In any case, I do not expect that I will be accepted by most of Society. Not truly. You and I shall live as commoners do. We shall be happier that way. We shall please ourselves.”

She frowned.

He was certainly skilled at predicting her damned thought patterns, what would touch her most deeply.

But was he lying to her to gain greater influence over her? Or was he back to his illusions about her once more? Either way, it rankled her. She was who she was. She was tired of trying to adapt herself to fit any man’s view.

“I am not
sweet
.” She gritted her teeth after the last word. “I have tried to tell you that I have changed since you knew me so long ago.”

“You will be sweet for me.”

His gently spoken words rang with such conviction. They seemed to strike her right through the heart. She jerked her gaze back to his.

Eyes like darkest blue velvet stared back at her, full of sincerity.

Passion.

Fervent adoration.

He was staring at her as though she were the most beautiful, most special woman in the whole world.

It was intoxicating.

And, it was so tempting to believe.

She caught her breath, wanting but not quite daring to believe she could…what? Capture some part of herself that life had wounded, leaving her altered. Hardened. Less the Rebecca who could have been. The Rebecca who would have been better, happier, kinder than she had ended up being.

He promised her healing. A return to her youth but with a difference. She would have the experience to appreciate and enjoy it all so much more.

“You’ll see, Rebecca.” He traced his fingertip down the centre of her chest. “You will shed all these scars that other men and life has placed on you. You will be your own sweet self again.”

She found herself drowning in his impassioned stare.

God, he was so seductive.

It was hard to focus on her own thoughts. Or to remember why it had been important to stay angry with him. To remain hardened.

Men like him know how to seduce women. They will say anything they think you want to hear.

Jon’s warning echoed in her mind.

He would know, wouldn’t he? He was one of those men. And he always had her best interests in mind. She ought to take heed and stop this madness.

She lifted her chin. “You’re telling me such incredible things. I may not be able to conceive another child at my age.”

“That’s true. I might not be capable of siring a child. I have never tried before. But we might be blessed.” Tenderness entered his gaze. “And I would welcome such an event as the dearest blessing.”

She gaped at him. This beautiful, vital and virile man wanted children from her? No man had ever before wanted children from her. Donald had been ambivalent about her pregnancy with Edwin. Jon might have considered marrying her to gain heirs but it wasn’t out of any particular desire to have
her
blood mingled with his.

There was something unbearably romantic about having a man telling her that he longed to create a child with her.

And there was something altogether too tempting about having
this
man tell her that.

Don’t lose your head. For God’s sake, remember that you do not know what he is. Not completely.

She gave herself a little internal shake. “You’re telling me things you think I want to hear.”

“I am telling you what is in my heart.”

She frowned, fighting harder to resist the undertow, the desire to hurl herself straight into the dreams he spun. “No, you know me too well. Somehow you already know me too well. It can’t be true.”

“People who are in love often want some of the same things. This is why you think I am telling you only what you want to hear.”

“You think we’re in love?”

“I know we’re in love.”

“But we don’t know each other. We haven’t spent enough time together to love each other.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

She deepened her frown. “I don’t understand.”

“We’ve spent enough time to fall in love. We have fallen in love more than once and been split apart. Both times by your misguided sense of loyalty. But it will, as you say, take time for us to learn how to truly love each other. But that doesn’t stop us from wanting to be with each other. From wanting each other.”

Stephen stroked the underside of her left breast, caressing that fullest part. Her nipple tightened into an almost painful point. He was so, so intoxicating…

“I think being ‘in-love’ is too strong a term for this between us,” she said, just to have something to focus her fast drifting thoughts upon.

“Why have you not taken a new lover in all the time since Ruel gave you the congé?”

“I told you,” she said stridently, wishing only to push back against his intensity. It was all so unfair. He was so much more quick minded than she was. He could spin such beautiful words, inspire such lovely thoughts. She was stumbling along after him, becoming more and more enchanted with the visions he created for her. More and more off-balance from his deep probing of her every nuance. “I have been busy. I have a duty to my father and my family now.”

“That’s not the reason.”

Again, his utter certainty made her mouth fall open. “How can you say that?”

“Because if you truly believed that you must stay with your father, you would never have eloped with Donald Howland.”

“But I did. I am that kind of a woman. Even as a girl I was selfish.”

His smile was a fleeting expression of gentle tolerance, of fond amusement at a foolish girl. It galled her. Yet she couldn’t look away from those enchanting eyes. Deep and blue as night…

He shook his head firmly. “You have a too finely attuned sense of duty, it wouldn’t have allowed you to leave. You knew your father would do just fine without you.”

“All right, maybe duty is just part of the reason I have kept my virtue since Jon married. Maybe I want to be safe. Emotionally safe.”

“That’s not really the reason either.”

“Ha! You think you know everything.”

“Not everything. But I do know about this.”

“Oh, well then, please do tell me the reason I have stayed celibate since Jon left me.”

“You were waiting for me to come back and to claim you.”

She laughed softly. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I am correct, you just don’t want to admit it. You can’t admit it yet.” He caressed her breast again in a slow, gentle motion.

She couldn’t help arching into his touch. He worked magic on her, surely he did. No other man had filled her with such anticipation, such desire. Never.

“We could get to know each other quite well.”

“You think this situation with Maria will continue that long?”

“No, I shall bring it to an end soon. Quite soon. But after it is done, I wish that you and I could go travelling together.” He paused in the act of stroking her. “You liked America—the former colonies?”

“Yes, I liked them very much.”

“Well, would you like to see South America?”

“It’s rather dangerous there, is it not?”

“I would keep you safe.” He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “It’s beautiful there, Rebecca, in a primitive way.” He spoke for a time about dense forests and jungles, colourful birds and flowers, majestic waterfalls and snow-capped mountains.

Longing welled inside her wholly different from the type he’d been inspiring with his hands just a moment past. It was unfair, so unfair to be tormented with this kind of temptation.

She adored travel. It was one of the things she had missed the most since she had ceased to follow the drum upon Jon having inherited his earldom and quitting the Dragoons. She missed that sense of wonder, magic, of not knowing what sights a new day would bring.

“I’d like to purchase a ship,” he continued. “I would outfit it with every luxury and then I would take you with me and travel the world if you want. We’ll see everything. And the place you decide is the best, I will build you a mansion there.”

She gaped at his fantastical little speech. “You do love to jest.”

“I am completely serious.”

“Ha!”

“I am sincere, I swear on my parents’ graves.”

“You should not make oaths like that.”

“I am wealthy. I can make your every whim or wish come true.”

“La, you had better be careful with such talk. Maybe I have some astonishing dreams of grandeur.”

“I am prepared for it.”

“And where would you ever attain the money for such an undertaking?”

“I am wealthy. I can afford it and more.”

She stifled her laugh. Now she knew for certain that he was either lying to her to seduce her or he was completely insane. A printer’s son could never, ever hope to amass the kind of incredible fortune he was talking about.

“You still underestimate me.”

“I am trying to believe, Stephen, truly I am. But you have to admit it is simply too fantastical that a printer’s son, a secretary, would be able to amass fantastic wealth. It is simply too much.”

“In the Dragoons, when I was still so much a boy, even for being eighteen, and you were really still such a naïve, soft-hearted girl, you felt I was too young for you. I wasn’t able to instil the sense of your being protected and safe that you craved. You found that with Jonathon Lloyd and you mistook it for love.”

“There was more between Jon and me than just his protection.”

“Of course, he was your friend. But he was not your love.”

She gave a soft gasp. “I think I am the best judge of whether or not I loved Jon.”

“There are many ways of loving someone. But the way you want to love me and the way I want to love you, there can only be one.”

“You sound so certain.”

“Rebecca, none of this really matters. I am here now and I
do
claim you.” He bent closer and then the warmth of his mouth on her nipple sent pleasure cascading through her. She closed her eyes.

I
do
claim you.

Oh God. Yes, yes, let him claim her, take her, humble her, punish her, break her… Would it really hurt anything to just let him continue, to let him seduce her?

Especially if she kept her head and the whole matter remained strictly just for tonight? Just one more night with him.

The gentle tug of his mouth on her nipple increased the pleasure coursing from her breasts into her belly. And lower.

She moaned and brought her hands up, entwined them into his hair. His thick, silken, wondrously black hair.

No, it wouldn’t hurt. One more night couldn’t possibly make anything worse.

Decision made, she stood.

His pupils dilated, making his eyes look dark, dangerous. Beautiful.

With his gaze, he swept her from head-to-foot.

She let a slow smile curve her lips and his eyes blazed with desire. She lowered her own gaze.

“Lift your arms for me, sweeting.”

She obeyed.

“Show me your lovely body.”

BOOK: Perilous Risk
11.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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