Relentless Lord (4 page)

Against her will, she arched into him, tipping her head back against the rock to allow him full access. As he staked his claim over the deep recesses of her mouth, coaxing her tongue into play, Hannah curled her hands into fists in the wet material of his shirt. A moan reverberated from her chest.

When he finally ended the kiss, she said nothing. Just opened her eyes and flattened her hands again to give a solid shove.

He stepped back and she dove swiftly to the side. She swam across the pool in long strokes until she reached the spot where she had dropped her clothes.

Without glancing back at him, she pulled herself from the pool and began the process of wringing the excess water from her chemise and hair before drawing her dry gown over the top. Hopefully, the sun would remain strong on the walk back to the house, allowing any remaining moisture to dry up. For her hair, she finger-combed it and then braided its length before coiling it atop her head and tucking in the end. With the bonnet replaced, no one would know it was not how she had worn it earlier.

She refused to glance back at Lord Whitely even though she suspected quite strongly by the heat traveling over her skin that he watched her rather intently.

Only when she sat on a nearby rock to replace her shoes did she lift her gaze to him.

He stood where she had left him, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth—the sight of which sent tingles through her low belly—curved into a careless grin.

“I have got you, Hannah. There is no getting out of this.”

She assumed he meant his vow to seduce her.

Standing with her head high, she allowed her gaze to travel over the parts of him she so admired. His handsome face, broad masculine shoulders and muscled arms. She even took a moment to direct her gaze to a point beneath the surface of the water where she suspected he burned for her still, just as she did in the hollow, aching place between her thighs.

Then she met his gaze again, accepting the desire she saw there. Accepting her own desire that ran like fire through her bloodstream.

Smiling, she said, “I am already out. Turn your attention to some other young woman. You will not have me.”

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and strolled back down the path the way they had come.

Miles waited until she was out of sight and then took a massive breath and dunked beneath the water. He did not come back up until his lungs burned and his head grew fuzzy.

And when he did break the surface, it was with a raw curse.

“Bloody fucking hell. I’m a goner.”

Then he burst into full-throated laughter.

Chapter Six

The next evening was an elaborate dinner party with a guest list that extended to local gentry. Two long tables were set up in the dining room and were crammed with diners seated elbow to elbow. Miles was disappointed to find that Hannah had been placed at the opposite table nearly the full length of the room away. It made for a very dull dinner.

By the time the gentlemen finished their port and cigars and joined the ladies in the drawing room, his target was fully ensconced within a gaggle of ladies. That she was already peering across the room at him suggested she had been watching and waiting for his reappearance. That he detected a distinct light of triumph in her gaze, told him she had infiltrated the close-knit group with the express intention of thwarting his attention.

Poor girl, he thought as he made a beeline for her position. If she expected a handful of females would deter him, she had no idea who she was up against.

Her gaze darkened and her expression faltered as she realized his intention. Her traitorous cousin, who was seated beside her, looked up as well and noted his approach. Miss Tremaine said something in an aside to her two friends, who in turn peeked at him from beneath coyly sweeping lashes.

Miles recognized the look. The one innocents sent his way all too often. More so once rumors had started to spread that he had a penchant for ruination.

He didn’t.

In fact, he had never given any undue attention to an innocent in his life. But once one wayward debutante had made the unfounded accusation several years ago, others followed suit. Miles became the go-to scapegoat for young ladies who needed an excuse to get married and quickly. Of course, there were also those women who earnestly sought his attention, hoping for an exciting dalliance. Such had been the case with Miss Walpole’s older cousin, Jacqueline. That one had been relentless in her insistence they commence an affair. Miles had never been interested in the woman. When she’d finally accepted that fact, she’d thought to force the issue by insisting he had seduced her.

Lucky for Miles, her father had absolutely no intention of giving his precious daughter to a scoundrel. Instead, Lord Tremaine had her married off to a very proper and staid example of manhood.

Miles rather enjoyed the false reputation he had built up. He had fun with the notoriety and the persona it gave him. Never mind that when it came to romance he was much more circumspect. One could even say he was downright traditional. Oh, he was a flirt to be sure. But he never pursued a woman who did not know exactly what to expect from him.

Until Miss Walpole, that was.

He supposed he should take some time to consider what that might mean.

But not just now, as he finally reached the group of females forming an unintentional barrier between him and his current objective.

“Ladies,” he said with a winning grin, addressing them all at once. “I wonder if I might borrow Miss Walpole for a moment. I understand she has significant knowledge on a topic with which I find myself rather fascinated.” Finally focusing on her directly, he asked, “Miss Walpole, would you take a turn about the room with me?”

She was going to refuse. He could see it in her stern chin and her lowered brows. Just as she parted her beautiful lips to speak, her cousin piped up with a hard smile.

“Of course. She would be delighted. Wouldn’t you, dear?” she insisted with an obvious elbow jab to Hannah’s ribs.

To her credit, Hannah did not flinch, though Miss Tremaine’s elbow looked sharp indeed. Instead, she paused to glance at the other ladies present and, as though realizing she was quite cornered, gave a weighted sigh.

“I would be honored, my lord.”

Miles grinned at her flat tone.

The gaggle parted to allow her to step through their midst. Miss Tremaine gave a parting jab, though this one was with her tongue. “I must admit I am rather curious as to what my cousin could have knowledge of that anyone, least of all a gentleman of your caliber, Lord Whitely, would find fascinating.”

Hannah had just reached him as her cousin spoke. He gallantly offered his arm. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and he looked into her blue eyes. He couldn’t resist the answer that flew from his mouth.

“Oh, I would have thought it obvious,” he said with a grin, never looking away from the lady at his side. “It is Miss Walpole I find fascinating.”

And with that he led her away. The sound of gasps and twitters following in their wake.

“Was that really necessary?” she asked coolly.

“Definitely.” He slid her a sideways glance and noted the slight tinge of pink in her cheeks and the tension around her mouth, a dead giveaway that she held back a smile. “Admit it,” he challenged, “you enjoy that I shocked them just a bit.”

She lowered her gaze for a second before she replied. “I do appreciate anything that manages to leave Beatrice speechless, if even for a moment.”

“Too bad it could not be longer.”

She stifled a laugh behind her glove.

“That is uncharitable. My cousin has been nothing but gracious since her father took me in.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you stop lying to yourself and admit you want me in your bed.”

“I do not,” she snapped in quick reply.

“My bed then. It makes no difference to me.”

She stumbled and he took advantage by drawing her more closely to his side. That she did not step away from him once she had her feet again pleased him in no small manner. In fact, it made him quite warm inside.

No. Hot was a better word for it.

Acknowledging his rising lust, Miles directed them toward the windows lining the far side of the drawing room. They had all been thrown wide open in an attempt to draw in a cooling breeze. Unfortunately, even the nights were exceptionally warm, and whatever breeze could be had was more balmy than cooling.

It did nothing to ease the steady fire building beneath the surface of his skin.

“You will keep lying to yourself then?” he asked in earnest.

“I never lie to myself.”

The tone of her voice struck a chord deep within him, forcing him to stop. He took her hand in his and drew her around to face him. Her lovely features were firm and resistant, but her gaze met his unflinchingly.

“So you acknowledge you want me.” It was stated as fact.

She did not deny it. Just lifted her chin a notch higher. She was so beautiful. Her gaze held such strength and confidence. He truly admired that about her. She knew herself and trusted herself. All others be damned.

“Yet you continue to deny us both,” he stated in a private tone.

“I must.”

“Why?”

“I will not be seduced.”

“Why?” he prodded again.

She turned her head to look out through the window. “I think too much of myself to become another one of Lord Whitely’s ruined castoffs.”

Miles kept his focus on her profile. “I told you I am not the reprobate everyone claims.”

She rolled her gaze back to him. “No doubt you swore the same to each of the ladies you ruined. I am not so gullible.”

For the first time, Miles realized the downside to years of false rumors and implied indiscretions. He felt himself growing angry that she would refuse to take his word for it. Then realized he couldn’t blame her for doing exactly what everyone else was doing.

“Ah, what a blasted coil,” he lamented.

She smiled at his dramatic response and shook her head gently. “You should really just turn your attention elsewhere, Lord Whitely. It will save us both unnecessary trouble.”

“I tend to enjoy trouble,” he rejoined with a wink. “Yours especially since it occasionally leads to broad glimpses of your stunning anatomy.”

She gave him a swat on the arm and his words tumbled into laughter. She glanced around to be sure no one was close enough to hear his improper remark.

Looking back up into his eyes with a narrowed gaze that made her blue eyes flash with annoyance and something else, she said, “Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. Now let up on this nonexistent challenge and leave me be.”

“Can’t,” he replied with a grin. “Not until I win.”

She took two long, steady breaths as they stared at each other. Each of them taking the other’s measure. Neither of them anticipating their opponent’s surrender, nor truly wanting it.

Then she issued the sigh of a woman tortured by the persistent idiocy of the male species.

Miles had heard the sigh a thousand times before from his sisters and had learned long ago there were two ways to counter female annoyance—humor and honesty.

“You are relentless,” she accused.

“And you are the most fascinating woman I have ever met.”

“Then you must know a frighteningly dull selection of females. That or you are a recluse.” She tossed him a cheeky glance. “Perhaps the rumors about you are as false as you claim.”

“Of course they are. Still, I happen to know some very interesting and attractive women. You surpass them all.”

She shook her head in amusement. “Your flattery is impossible to believe when it goes so far, my lord.”

“It is not flattery when it is true, Miss Walpole. You should know how much I admire you.”

“You desire me. There is a difference,” she retorted.

“There is,” he agreed, “and I do both. I am rather talented in that way.”

She snorted back a laugh as another strolling couple passed near their spot. Once the semblance of privacy was restored, she gave him an assessing glance. “You are an accomplished flirt, I will give you that.”

“And an excellent kisser.”

Her eyes widened fractionally. After a breath, she replied in a low voice, “Yes. Inspired actually.”

“A passionate lover,” his murmured.

The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered and her gaze darkened. “There are more important things than passion.”

“Impossible,” he countered with a heavy brow. “Name one.”

“Constancy. Trust.” She paused. “Love.”

Miles grimaced. “I said one.”

“Take your pick,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“No, thank you. I have decided to be greedy. I choose all of them.”

Her mouth was open, ready to retort, when her delightful cousin sidled up beside them. Miles coughed back a sound of irritation as he saw that Miss Tremaine was accompanied by Lord Hathmore, a man with more self-righteous condemnation than any Miles had ever met. The bloke thought himself a saint of the highest order, when he was nothing more than an uptight prig.

“The two of you look frightfully cozy over here in the corner by yourselves,” Miss Tremaine said with a sly smile. Then she leaned toward Hannah to whisper
sotto voce
, “Do be careful not to let father spy you so
intimately
engaged with Lord Whitely.”

Though Miles noted a slight stiffening of her shoulders, Hannah tipped her head and replied in a light tone, “Your concern is appreciated, but we are hardly
intimately
engaged. Surely, there can be no fault observed in a conversation.”

“If I may say, Miss Walpole,” Lord Hathmore intruded, his beady eyes darting to Miles before looking back to Hannah with an earnest sigh, “that all depends upon who is involved. In this case—” his censorious glance slid once again toward Miles, “—you have cause to heed your cousin’s words.”

Miles gave a jaunty bow as though accepting a compliment, but Hannah gasped in mock astonishment. She even brought her hand swiftly to her breast. Miles hid his grin at her theatrics.

What a delightful creature.

“My goodness! Lord Whitely—” she leaned toward him with her eyes round, “—did you know you were such a scoundrel?”

“Indeed. I can ruin a lady with just a look.” He glanced toward Miss Tremaine, casting her a smile heavily tainted with wickedness.

The silly twit fluttered before she gathered her composure to say to Hannah, “Do not say I did not warn you, dear cousin. All it takes is one inappropriate move and you will be ruined.” After she spoke, Miss Tremaine’s pinched face slid into a disturbing smile. She looked back and forth between Miles and Hannah and then tapped Lord Hathmore’s arm with her fan. “I have done what I could. Let us move on.”

As they walked away, Miles looked back to Hannah. Her expression of amusement slid immediately into one of weary frustration.

He dipped his head toward hers. “What is the matter?”

“I feel like I am trapped in a perpetual game where the rules keep changing.”

“Then make your own rules.”

“To what end?”

Miles smiled. “That all depends on what you want.”

Her blue eyes looked at him, so clear and vivid, as she seemed to think on his last comment. Then she shook her head. “If you will excuse me, Lord Whitely.”

She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with an ache in his chest that felt an awful lot like loss.