To Seduce a Bride (19 page)

“Put me down!” she insisted when the water was knee level.

“Gladly,” he replied. “You weigh as much as a beached whale.”

No sooner had he spoken than he stumbled and went down on one knee. Although he easily kept hold of her while she clutched his neck more tightly, they voiced the same oath at the exact same instant.

The humor of it struck Lily and Heath at the same moment. Laughter echoed from them both as they met each other's eyes.

When eventually he stood up, holding her safely, their laughter faded to a shared breathless smile.

“It's damned hard playing the hero with you, sweetheart.”

Lily's mouth curved with mirth. “Some hero you are. If you hadn't loosened my bonnet, we would not be in this fix.”

By the time they reached dry land, the small group of spectators had joined them.

Winifred was out of breath, but she spoke first. “How wonderful of you, my lord. You saved her life.”

“You give me far too much credit, my lady,” he answered, his tone dry.

“Yes,” Lily added wryly. “I believe I had something to do with my deliverance.”

He grinned at her while Winifred shook her head. “But it was still quite romantic,” she insisted.

Ignoring her friend's gushing, Lily instead addressed Heath. “Pray put me down now, my lord. You have been chivalrous enough for one day.”

When he obliged, setting her on her stockinged feet, Lily winced at the feel of the rough ground against her tender soles.

Seeing her pain, Winifred frowned. “Lily, you cannot walk back to the house with no shoes.”

“I don't plan to return to your house, Winifred. I shall go home to Danvers Hall instead, so I may change out of this sopping gown.”

A light of speculation suddenly entered her ladyship's eyes. “Yes, of course you must change at home. I don't have any gowns that would fit you. And you must accompany her, Lord Claybourne. You need dry clothing, and Lord Danvers should have ample choices in his wardrobe.”

Lily wanted to argue, yet they were both dripping wet, and she was beginning to grow chilled.

In any event, Heath took the decision from her. “My carriage will take us to the Hall, Lady Freemantle. We shall go directly to the stables so we needn't importune your guests.”

Although nodding happily, Winifred cast a measuring glance at Lily's bedraggled form. “I suppose I should send a footman to fetch some blankets for you….”

“There are carriage rugs in my coach,” Heath assured her. “Please accept our apologies for leaving so precipitously, my lady.”

With a brief bow to their hostess, he picked Lily up again without regard to her sharp inhalation and strode toward the stableyard.

Lily knew protesting would be futile, yet she scolded him all the same once they were out of earshot. “You are taking shameless advantage of Winifred's scheming.”

“Perhaps, but conventional methods of wooing won't work on you, so I must act when I have the chance.”

The sound she made was between a scoff and an amused
humph.
“You cannot possibly consider this farcical comedy romantic, as she does.”

“No, it is hardly romantic. You look like a drowned rat.”

Lily's eyes widened in mock insult. “My, my. First a whale, now a rat. How delightfully complimentary you are.”

He grinned at her. “You aren't the kind of female to cherish compliments—I learned that within my first moments of meeting you.”

Even though she knew better than to encourage him, Lily found herself smiling back. She couldn't deny the pleasure, either, of being held in Heath's strong arms, pressed against his warm, powerful body. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, and her wet garments were raising goose bumps all over her skin.

But she tore her gaze away and stared at a point over his shoulder as his long strides ate up the distance.

When they reached the stableyard, he carried her directly to his coach. His servants sprang to do his bidding, opening the door for him so he could set Lily inside.

Struggling to arrange her dripping skirts, she settled on the leather seat and felt herself shiver as the clammy, cold fabric molded to her limbs and back.

After giving orders to his coachman, Heath climbed in to sit beside her, carrying a heavy woolen carriage blanket. She was grateful when he arranged the blanket over her lap and shoulders. But when he put his arm around her and drew her close, Lily stiffened. “My Lord Claybourne—” she began quellingly.

“Hush and let me warm you. Otherwise you'll be frozen by the time we reach the Hall.”

Reluctantly, she allowed him to tuck her against the curve of his body. She could scarcely believe she had let Heath manipulate her into this vulnerable situation, although she couldn't help but admire his initiative, the way he always countered any move she made to avoid his wooing. Shaking her head, she laughed softly at him and at herself.

Heath put a finger to her chin and turned her head to face him. “I like your laugh.” His gaze appraised her tenderly. “I like how your laughter makes your eyes sparkle.”

Lily felt breathless all of a sudden.

The coach began to move just then, jostling her against him. Stirring uncomfortably, Lily looked away. She couldn't ignore him, however, for his thumb slid to the side of her neck, brushing. Tingling sensation skittered up her nerve endings, making her shiver again.

“That is quite enough, my lord.”

“I beg to differ, angel. You need warming, and I intend to do it by kissing you.”

When he pressed his lips to her nape, creating an excited flutter in her chest and stomach, Lily glanced back at him sternly. “You cannot want to kiss a drowned rat.”

His grin was slow, potent, and incorrigibly infectious. “How many times must I tell you, I don't care how you look? You are utterly desirable in any condition.”

He didn't look any less desirable for his own dousing in the lake, Lily thought, staring up at his handsome face. His wet hair had darkened and curled a little, making her want to reach up and slide her fingers through it. And how could she resist such a sinfully sensual smile?

Doubtless that was why she didn't pull away when Heath bent his head. He kissed her softly, warming her mouth as he'd promised, along with other even more sensitive parts inside her. Deploring the shameful way her blood thickened, Lily gave a little sigh as damp heat pooled between her thighs. She knew she should stop him, but his wicked mouth could kidnap a woman's common sense….

Then one of his hands pushed aside the blanket and came to rest on her breast, closing possessively. Lily broke away determinedly, striving to gather her scattered wits.

“You cannot possibly be thinking of making love to me in broad daylight in a carriage,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Not even you would be so scandalous.”

“I could indeed be thinking of it.”

“It is barely a mile to the Hall.”

“I told my coachman to go slowly in deference to the shock you endured from falling in the lake. Trust me, we have time for what I have in mind.” He lifted a finger to her throat, trailing it down to the neckline of her gown. “But I promise, I won't arouse you to climax this time. I don't want your cries of pleasure to be overheard by my servants.”

At the thought of Heath making her cry out with pleasure as he'd done yesterday, Lily felt her throat go dry. She sat there, torn, as his thumb moved maddeningly in light caresses over her skin. His body was giving off a powerful heat, making her yearn for him, while sensual awareness spread to all of her nerve endings. She could scarcely believe how much she wanted him to make love to her.

Lily squeezed her eyes shut. Heath was so very bad for her. He roused the very recklessness that she was trying to control.

With a sound of self-disgust, she extricated herself from his hold and moved to the opposite seat, facing him, letting the blanket drop to her waist in her haste. “You are a devil, trying to make me forget all my sense of propriety.”

“Which has never been very great to begin with.”

That much was true. There had always been a wild streak inside of her, and now Heath was encouraging it, urging her to behave with rash abandon, just as she longed to. But she wouldn't give in to her longings this time, Lily vowed.

It didn't help, however, that his gaze was slowly raking over her.

“Will you
please
stop looking at me that way?” she demanded in exasperation.

“What way?”

“As if you want to undress me.”

“But I do want to undress you, darling.” His smile was roguish, sensual. “Can I help it if I lust after you? That muslin gown of yours is hiding few of your charms at the moment.”

She glanced down at herself to see that her nipples were showing even through the wet bodice of her gown and undergarments. Feeling color warming her cheeks, Lily dragged up the carriage blanket to cover her bosom, shielding her breasts from his avid gaze.

Heath gave a pained sigh. “If you won't oblige me, I suppose I can make do with fantasizing.”

Lily regarded him suspiciously, wondering what he would do next. She didn't trust the devils dancing in his eyes.

She was right not to trust him, she realized the next moment, for he reached down and unbuttoned the front placket of his pantaloons. Lily's breath faltered altogether when he opened his drawers and freed his rampant male member to her shocked gaze.

“Have I robbed you of the power of speech? Fancy that.”

Lily swallowed. “You are utterly wicked,” she said hoarsely.

“I can be. You will find I am a very physical man.”

Her eyes widened as he cradled the rigid shaft in his palm. He was greatly aroused, judging from the way it jutted out, thick and long and swollen.

She had never seen a man's naked loins before, except for those on marble statues. And Heath was far larger and more virile than any statue. Fascinated, her gaze riveted, Lily stared as he lightly stroked his tumescence.

“I would much rather you be doing this to me.”

When she remained speechless, he bent down and, much to her startlement, reached beneath the blanket to take hold of her left ankle and peel off her stocking. Lifting her foot onto his lap, he lightly massaged the sole, warming it, then drew it closer to contact his naked flesh.

She sat enthralled, unable to look away. The hot, granite thickness of his manhood felt strangely erotic against her bare foot.

“Lily,” he called softly. “Come and sit beside me.”

She lifted her gaze to his, instinctively understanding what he was asking of her. “You want me to…caress you?”

“Very much.” His smile tantalized, his eyes seduced. “You know how pleasurable it feels when I arouse you, so you can imagine how pleasurable it can be for me when you arouse me.”

Her heart began to pound, but she didn't have the willpower to deny his scandalous request. Drawn by the wicked gleam in his alluring hazel eyes, she rose and resumed her seat next to him, the blanket completely forgotten as it slipped to the coach floor.

Without waiting, Heath guided her palm to his naked loins. Lily inhaled a sharp breath as her fingers closed around his hardness, feeling the life of him pulse and leap at her touch.

Tension spiraled within her, but Heath merely leaned casually back against his seat. Keeping a light grasp of her hand, he coaxed her to fondle him, letting her cup the heavy sacs beneath his arousal, tracing the blunt, velvety head, until finally he curled her hand around his turgid length. Demonstrating how to give him pleasure, he began moving her hand slowly up and down, stroking.

A shameful thrill raced through Lily, kindling her senses, igniting a fluid rise of heat inside her. She was inflamed by the feel of him, by the lazy passion glowing in his eyes.

“Harder, love. You won't hurt me.” His voice sounded slightly breathless as he increased the pace of their strokes.

Shortly his face became taut, the skin flushed, while his eyes shimmered with a hot, primal haze of desire.

His jaw locked as their fingers kneaded harder, sweeping up and down in short, rough motions. His breath was harsh and uneven by now, his fingers clenching around hers. But the moment before his climax, he released her hand and cupped his own around the head of his shaft.

Clenching his teeth, he shut his eyes as his pulsing seed spurted into his palm. The resultant explosion made his hips arch convulsively.

Lily watched wide-eyed as Heath shuddered and went still.

Finally opening his eyes, he smiled at her. “Our private trysts could well become the delight of my life,” he said huskily.

Unable to respond, she simply sat there, her lips parted, her own breath shallow, reduced to speechless, quivering pudding.

When she stayed silent, he took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his hand clean, then calmly rearranged his clothing, covering himself and re-buttoning his pantaloons.

Lily wet her dry lips. “That is all you mean to do?”

“Did you expect more?”

“Well…yes.” She expected him to try to seduce her at the very least. Instead he had left her hot and aching, her senses on fire.

“Alas, we don't have time. We should be reaching Danvers Hall shortly.”

At his blithe tone, Lily frowned at him, suddenly comprehending his intent. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?”

“Yes, love. It was another lesson in passion. Now you know what it feels like to be painfully aroused with no hope of fulfillment…which is the state you continually leave me in.”

He had deliberately titillated and excited and aroused her, only to keep her frustrated and hungry and craving more.

“That is hardly fair,” Lily muttered. “Rather underhanded, in fact.”

His half smile was enchanting. “You have the power to change your fate. All you need do is say you will wed me, and I will be more than happy to satisfy your carnal desires anytime you wish. Until then, your virtue is safe with me.”