Scandalous Love (9 page)

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Authors: Brenda Joyce

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Erotica

BOOK: Scandalous Love
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Nicole straightened
gracefully. "But we have met, Mother," she said, her eyes holding
his. Her expression was bland, yet there was no way he could miss the sugary
sarcasm in her tone. And there was nothing polite in her eyes, for they
guttered with anger. "Have we not, Your Grace? Could you not even say that
we are old friends— er—acquaintances?"

His jaw clenched, and
every intimate moment they had shared flashed through his mind. "I do
believe I have had the honor of an introduction," he murmured politely.
His gaze was dark, dangerous, warning her to cease. For the battle lines had
been clearly drawn, the gauntlet thrown—by her—and he did not trust her in the
least.

"Where have you two
met?" the Earl asked.

Nicole smiled, too
wisely. "Perhaps His Grace should answer that."

Anger flashed in the
Duke's eyes, for he was certain that she intended to do some damage to him—in
whatever way she could—this night. "He turned to his host. "At the Adderlys'
masque, I believe."

"Oh, yes, I had
heard that they threw you a party," Jane said, with a quick smile and an
uncertain glance that traveled with lightning speed from the Duke to her
daughter. Nicole still wore that strange, mocking half-smile.

"And of
course," she said silkily, "we furthered our
acquaintance
at
Chapman Hall, did we not?" She turned to him inquiringly.

Anger blazed in his eyes
again at her daring, while he had no choice but to recall just how they had
furthered their acquaintance—with him tossing her on her back in the grass.
Silence filled the room. "It was very kind of you, and so
neighborly," the Duke finally said, when he could find his tongue,
"to call on me and welcome me to the country."

Nicole laughed, the
sound rich and husky. "It was so kind of
me."
Her glance was
pointed; they both knew damn well that it was Hadrian who had invited her to
Chapman Hall for a seduction.

But Nicole wasn't
through. "And it was so kind of His Grace to invite
me
to go riding
with
him."
She smiled too sweetly. "He showed me the grounds.
Fancy that," she told her parents and Chad. She looked expectantly at the
Duke.

The Duke nearly choked.
"One good turn deserves another," he said stiffly, thinking of how he
would love to turn her over his knee and paddle her bottom, regardless that she
was a full grown woman.

Nicole gave him a look
that said she wasn't sorry and that she had no intention of ceasing her taunts.
"We wound up by that sweet little brook, you know, the one that crosses
onto our property. Not that we cared where we were, for what are boundaries
between new
neighbors?"
She gave him another look, this one long
and intimate, the look a woman who has been with a man gives him when she is
interested in repeating the rendezvous. His gaze widened fractionally before he
resumed his inscrutable expression.

But he was furious with
her, and cursing her under his breath, knowing she would toy with him until she
grew bored with the endeavor, knowing that this dangerous game of hers was some
kind of misbegotten revenge for his callous mistake in thinking her married and
attempting to initiate an affair with her. Tension crackled in the air, and he
knew her family was growing perturbed as they sought to understand the barely
hidden meanings behind her words.

It was time to play her
game by her rules and teach her a lesson she had written. He turned a small,
biting smile upon her. "You almost suffered great damage to your person,
if I recall," he said smoothly.

A quick flush rose on
Nicole's cheeks, her small, triumphant smile disappearing. She stared at him,
eyes wide, dismayed.

"When your horse
ran away with you," he added.

Her relief was
transparent. "How I owe you," she managed.

"For saving
you?" he asked silkily, thinking of how her virginity had just barely
escaped him. "An honorable man could not have done otherwise than to
extend himself in order to alleviate a lady's ... er... distress." He
recalled too clearly her physical
distress
when she had been in his arms
and beneath his hot, aroused body. How he would have loved to relieve her
agony!

"I cannot thank you
enough." She barely got the words out.

"But you already
have," he said. "For wasn't that the reason for your second
visit?"

Her jaw tightened.
"Of course."

He touched the side of
his cheek where she had slashed him with her crop. Only the faintest pink scar
was visible if one bothered to look closely enough. "You were very
lucky," he said, remembering how her savagery had again incited his lust.

"So lucky,"
Nicole glared.

Chad broke the silence that
followed their exchange, a silence where they stared at each other, eyes
blazing. "Nicole is a very good rider. I cannot imagine her horse running
away with her."

"Well, you
see," the Duke said, unsmiling, recalling her soft body under his,
"my mount was quite unschooled, with a mind and inclination of its own. It
was my fault. Out of control, I rode right over her. I could not stop until the
last moment, preoccupied as I was."

Nicole made a choked
sound. He was terribly aware of her, standing by his side, a few inches between
them, in her brilliant orange ballgown. Her breasts were heaving now, heaving
with her fury. He wondered if she could control her savage nature, or if the
volcano of her temper was about to erupt.

But she spoke sweetly,
too sweetly. "I am
so
lucky I had the good fortune to be
ridden
over
by the Duke, I mean,
by the Duke's mount,
am I not? It is not every day
that one is so graced."

"You mean,"
the Duke gritted, "had I not ridden over you, your
mare
would not
have shied—at the last moment, might I add?—and I would not have had the
distinct honor of saving you." He found it hard to control his temper and
his tone.

Nicole sputtered
wordlessly.

The Duke smiled
savagely.

The Countess exchanged a
worried look with her husband. Quickly, before they could engage in any further
verbal dueling, she said, "Why don't we go in and sit to supper?"
Jane smiled too brightly. She glided forward and offered her arm to the Duke,
but she looked at Nicole. "You never told me that you had met,
darling."

"It never came
up," Nicole said, and then her next words dared to mock him again.
"The way some things always do."

As the guest of honor,
the Duke was seated on the Earl's right. They were dining in the smaller of the
house's two dining rooms, the one reserved for intimate or family gatherings.
The Countess sat at the other end of the table, which seated twelve, with Chad
on her right. Nicole sat across from the Duke on her father's other side. The
Duke seated Jane, and returned to his own place in time to watch Nicole
settling in her chair, dipping forward to reveal a generous portion of her
breasts.

Purposefully? He was
experienced enough to be sure of it. Their wordplay earlier, and her proximity,
had already done dangerous things to his loins, kindling a fire he did not wish
to entertain, not now or ever. Lips tight, he sat, resolving to keep his gaze
off of her person.

Her last remark still
stung. Had she truly meant what he had thought she had? Had she dared to refer
to how easily he became aroused around her? He found his gaze upon her again,
and she gave him a knowing smile, one that was infinitely seductive and
infinitely infuriating.

She was teasing him, and
if they weren't here, at Dragmore, he would drag her outside and show her what
happened when she dared to play such a dangerous game with a man of his
caliber. No woman had ever before dared to rouse his anger as she had, both
this evening and the last time they had met. Was she a fool, or infinitely
brave and equally reckless? Time would tell, he thought, startled to realize he
anticipated some kind of continuation of their relationship. And that was not
just impossible, it was out of the question.

She was staring at him
and their glances locked. Although they were here at Dragmore dining with her family,
his turn would come soon. He held her regard so long that it ceased to be
polite, forcing her to turn away first.

"What do you intend
to do with Chapman Hall?" the Earl asked as they were served their first
course, a cold poached salmon in a delicate lemon sauce.

"I have not
decided, but perhaps I will put it up for sale."

"So much work just
to sell it?" Nicole asked, her tone provocative.

His hard brown gaze met
and held hers, again. "Some endeavors demand labor, and the more labor,
the greater the final reward." He could be referring to just about
anything, but in this case, he was referring to her.

She smiled. "And
sometimes there can be tremendous labor and
no
reward,
ever."
She
met his stare.

How he would like to
play this game to the end, he thought. How he would like to get her where she
would be immersed in his power, helpless to deny him. "Such instances are
very, very rare." Abruptly, he turned to her mother, not wanting to
continue their banter, afraid they had already revealed too much. "The
salmon is delicious, Lady Jane."

Jane could not restrain
herself from darting her gaze between them. "I am glad," she managed
weakly, finally catching her husband's eye.

Understanding her, the
Earl began a more harmless topic: the state of the market. Although economies
were not generally discussed in mixed company, as the head of the household the
Earl could broach what subject he chose. However, both women seemed interested
enough in the conversation to listen closely. The Duke responded to his host automatically,
but his attention was elsewhere.

For Nicole continued to
clash with him, this time by casting long looks at him from under her lashes,
certain that there would be no consequences.

After the meal, they all
adjourned together to the salon to enjoy after-dinner drinks. The Earl asked
him if he minded the company of the ladies. Of course, by now the Duke was
thoroughly irritated, having had to endure Nicole's seduction through the
entire supper, and he would have loved to have had a cigar in quiet peace with
the Earl and Chad alone. As a gentleman, however, he could not refuse.

But twenty minutes
later, Nicole excused herself, with one last glance at the Duke. He watched her
leave. Had she been signaling him? The look she had given him had been frosty,
smug and somehow coy all at once. Had his turn finally come to even the score?

After five minutes he
excused himself momentarily from the gathering. His host would assume him to be
answering a natural need. As he walked down the corridor, leaving the salon
behind, his senses stirred. He knew—he just knew—that she was somewhere nearby.
And as he passed the library a glance within told him that he was right. He
halted.

She lay on the divan, on
her side, reading. The pose, intentional or not, was that of a classic Venus.
Her hips were full and curved and lush, her voluptuous breasts spilling from
her gown. She widened her eyes at the sight of him. He could not be certain
whether it was an act or not.

He smiled, his first
real smile that evening, and it was infinitely dangerous. He stepped into the
library and closed the door.

Nicole gasped, dropping
the book. "Whatever do you think you're doing! You can't come in
here!"

"I can't?" He
stalked toward her.

She sat up, although her
feet did not drop to the floor. He watched the rise and fall of her breasts,
enjoying the view. "You played," he said silkily, "and now you
may pay."

With that, she leapt to
her feet. At that moment, he pounced on her, making her cry out as he pulled
her up against him. "Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Nicole?"

"Did you enjoy
yourself?" she flung back defiantly.

"No," he said,
"but I intend to now."

Certain of what was
coming, she tried to wrench herself free of his grip. He refused to let her go,
even though a part of himself was shocked with the disrespect he was showing
for his host and with his blatant disregard for any consequences that might
ensue. He ignored that part of himself and hauled her up against him and kissed
her.

She made incoherent
noises of furious protest, which he ignored. He kept a steel hold on her
wrists, molding her mouth with his, his patience endless. She took a breath and
he seized the moment, thrusting his tongue deep within her. She gasped as he
proceeded to thrust into her mouth insistently, ruthlessly, and then she became
still in his arms.

His relentless attack
did not cease. He transferred her wrists to one hand and with the other caught
her buttocks, pulling her against him. She became more pliant in his embrace,
moaning softly. His own stance changed. No longer the enemy predator, he eased
his grip and his hold became a sweet, intoxicating embrace. Their kiss became a
mutual mating. It went on and on and on.

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