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Authors: Nicole Jordan

BOOK: To Seduce a Bride
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“Those two leering bucks aren't harmless. They want nothing more than to have you in their beds.”

“What if they do? You have no right to be jealous!”

In one distracted part of his mind, Heath acknowledged the novelty of the fierce emotion he was feeling. He never became jealous over a woman. Yet both Poole and his younger rivals had made him livid with it. Or rather, he was livid at the attention Lily had shown them. Her consorting had roused a primal male urge to carry her back to his lair and keep her safe from all his competition.

How had this spirited hoyden managed to do what no other woman ever had?

Lily was glaring at him as if she wanted to box his ears. “This is positively absurd. I am returning to the soiree this instant. Let me pass.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeated as the air between them crackled with tension. He'd had enough of her resistance, enough of her denials. Lily didn't want those lecherous blades, she wanted
him.

Determined to prove it to her, Heath stepped forward and hauled her into his arms.

It started as a kiss of mastery and domination, with no hint of gentleness. His need was all about possession as he plundered her mouth…ruthless, relentless, his tongue thrusting with a hunger that was angry, thorough, and devastatingly passionate.

Lily felt his hunger as his strong hands pulled her even closer. Her resistance lasted another heartbeat before she gave in entirely. With a seizure of need she melted against Heath, kissing him back with ruthless abandon.

She reveled in his fierceness…yet what had started as angry and intense quickly turned hot and tender; their kiss became wild, delicious, and stunningly sensual. Lily gave a helpless whimper at the sheer power of it.

Her heart was hammering and her breath came in ragged pants when Heath finally drew back to stare at her. Desire throbbed in the air, along with a telling pulse between her thighs.

Lily's heart pounded harder. He meant to make love to her, she could see in his eyes, in the intent expression on his face, illuminated by the pale glow of moonlight.

“I want you, Lily,” he stated, his voice a low, husky rasp. “And I know you want me.”

“Yes,” she said simply.

Sliding one hand around her nape, he stroked the base of her neck in a light, tantalizing massage before reaching up and relieving her of her turban. Making short work of the pins that held her hair up, he spread the dark mass over her shoulders.

Then his hands began to move gently over her body, exploring her with enthralling seductiveness, tracing her shape through her gown and causing Lily to shudder with longing.

“Will we leave our clothes on this time?” she asked in a breathless murmur.

Heath flashed a smile that came close to taking her breath away. “Not this time, love. I want to see and feel and taste all of you…and for you to do the same with me.”

He undressed her then, not allowing her to help. Lily was excruciatingly aware of his slow movements, the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat, the heavy pinprick of sensations in her body.

When he had dispensed with her last garments, he stood back to take in her nakedness. The expression on his face was almost reverent as his gaze caressed her. “I have imagined this countless times…how perfect your body would be, how exquisite. How it would feel to make love to you with nothing standing between us.”

She had imagined it, too, which was why she felt surprise and disappointment when Heath led her to the bed and sat her down, then left her there.

But he was only stepping back to remove his own clothing, Lily realized with gratitude, watching as he began with his coat and waistcoat. His cravat and shirt came next, before he moved on to shoes and stockings and satin knee breeches.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw his body completely naked for the first time. He looked utterly perfect himself, she thought, her enthralled gaze wandering over his magnificent shoulders, his wide chest, his narrow waist and hips, his long, powerful legs.

Muscles rippled and played beneath the satiny skin of his broad frame, while his arousal thrust out thick and swollen from the juncture of his thighs.

The sight made Lily's mouth go dry. She stared, hypnotized, as Heath came to stand before her. When he put a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze, she found herself drowning in the shadowy glimmer of his eyes.

She shivered as he urged her back upon the narrow bed, and when he joined her, stretching out his full length beside her, the muscles in her stomach clenched in anticipation.

Lily drew another sharp breath as their naked flesh touched. He felt amazing, warm and smooth and hard and muscular. Her senses came alive at the exquisite, profoundly male textures. The softness of his bare flesh, the heat and steel beneath. And his loins…His erection pulsed and strained against her abdomen, she could feel the scorching heat of it.

Stirring restlessly, Lily pressed her body against his, wanting to be even closer.

“No, keep still and let me pleasure you,” Heath murmured.

Obediently, she lay back and let him have his way, but it wasn't easy to remain still when he began to stroke her, his hand wandering over her skin, his touch skimming like a breath.

Her nipples were excruciatingly taut, and when his palms barely brushed over the pouting buds, a spark of fire kindled inside her and flowed downward to her female center.

Lily bit her lip hard as she surrendered to the deft expertise of Heath's hands. She was enchanted by the pure sensuality of it…his magical touch, the quiet hush of the night, the muted moonlight pouring over them like liquid silver.

His hands left her breasts and tangled in her hair, while his mouth joined the tender assault on her sanity. His feathery kisses were a tantalizing caress on the underside of her throat before moving upward over her jaw to her cheekbone. Then, with the slow eroticism of a dream, his lips settled on hers.

Lily made a soft sound like a sigh as his mouth enthralled hers. For long heated moments, she lay there beneath him, drinking his breath, absorbing his taste, savoring his enveloping warmth, his masculine scent. Her sigh became a soft whimper as his fingers spread deliciously through her hair, guiding her even deeper into his kisses.

She was enraptured…held spellbound by his gentleness, paralyzed by his sweetness.

He continued to feed her the thick, dreamy pleasure, dazing her with his mystical power. Just now there was nothing in the world but the two of them, and yet her body yearned with the need to know more of him, stung with a hunger for greater fulfillment.

She was infinitely grateful when his hand returned to the naked swell of her breasts. Her nipples were aching and throbbing, and when he pinioned one between his thumb and forefinger, fiery sensations pulsed inside her, throbbing through her belly.

Then he cupped the mound in his hand and took the peak into his mouth, suckling, laving with his hot tongue. Lily dragged in a shuddering breath as melting heat began to blaze throughout her body. When he went on rousing her with pleasure, she sank her fingers into his hair, holding his head to her breast.

Heath, it seemed, was not content with merely tormenting her nipples, however. Breaking free of her clutching fingers, he trailed his mouth down to her abdomen.

Lily burned where his lips pressed, but she went rigid when he nuzzled her nest of curls at the vee of her thighs.

“Easy,” Heath murmured. “I won't hurt you.”

Her heart feverishly pounding, she strove to be still, waiting while his large hands framed her thighs, holding her legs apart, exposing the heart of her to his touch. Then deliberately, he set his lips to her soft flesh, pressing a long, hot kiss against her feminine center, dredging a breathless gasp from deep within Lily's throat.

Heath paid her no mind. Instead, he lapped at her slowly, teasing the folds of her cleft in deep, velvety strokes, sending lashes of heat to the very core of her.

He seemed to savor her, his attentions first long and slow and languid, then more intense…his tongue alternately delicate and butterfly light, then firm and rough and urgent.

Her breathing grew increasingly ragged, racing with her heart at the devastating stimulation. Her body was raw with wanting, the pleasure sharp and riveting, a feast of sensation. But Heath prolonged the delicious torture until Lily was faint with bliss.

Eventually he increased his rhythm, wringing a moan from her parted lips, and when he slid one finger partway inside her, wild desire flared through her.

Thrashing beneath his hot mouth, Lily gave in with fierce abandon. It was too much…too hot, too intense, too overwhelming. Emotions stormed her senses, desire and pleasure and want and need. She bucked and cried out, reeling with the shattering ecstasy.

When the firestorm finally receded, she became aware that Heath had stretched out beside her again and was watching her. As she looked up into the glimmering gold of his eyes, she saw myriad emotions reflected there: sexual hunger, tenderness, possessiveness, supreme satisfaction.

When his fingers strayed to her face, caressing her with the lightness of a drifting shadow, Lily found herself suddenly swallowing against the strange ache that had formed in her throat. Heath's passion had called to the wildness within her, yet aroused a profound emotional turmoil as well. His tender intimacy stunned and awed her even more than the carnal release he had given her.

Feeling the foolish prick of tears behind her eyelids, Lily ducked her head and hid her face in the warm skin of his chest. She had never known such tenderness with a man, certainly not the kind that brought tears to her eyes. She hadn't realized such a thing was possible. Her parents had warred constantly, their marriage a battleground.

She had little defense against tenderness.

Not wanting to accept it, Lily forcibly quelled the ache in her chest and eased away from Heath, purposely breaking the poignant feeling of intimacy between them.

He evidently sensed her withdrawal, though, for he reached out to pull her closer, fitting her body to his. Lily stiffened with resistance, even as her traitorous senses relished the contact with his virile warmth.

He held her like that for a long moment, his lips tenderly kissing her hair, his fingertips skimming over her arm, her back, her hip, her thigh. She could feel the rigid length of his manhood pressed against her belly, yet he made no move to seek his own carnal release.

“Don't you…intend to do more?” Lily finally asked hoarsely.

“Not now.” His hushed murmur caressed her ear. “I want to, believe me. I want nothing more than to stay here with you and make love to you all night long, to show you that lovemaking can be even better when it is fully consummated. But I won't until you agree to wed me.”

He was in pain from his intense arousal, she knew that much from his recent lessons. And she thought it only fair that she offer to assuage his discomfort. “I can attend to you…if you wish. The way we did in your carriage.”

There was a pained smile in Heath's voice when he responded. “I would rather wait for the real thing, Lily. I demonstrated what I needed to tonight, so I am satisfied for now.”

The trouble was,
she
wasn't satisfied. Heath had given her remarkable pleasure, but she still felt…incomplete somehow.

When she was silent, his hands returned to cradle her head—the same gentle hands that had stroked her body to such arousing effect—and tilted her face up to his so that she had to look at him.

“I wanted you to know passion, sweetheart, so you will understand what you are giving up by eschewing marriage. You don't want to remain a spinster all your life, wasting your nights in emptiness, alone in your chaste, virginal bed. And someday soon I hope to make you believe it.”

She already did believe one thing, Lily acknowledged to herself. She didn't want to remain a virgin forever. Not after experiencing the stunning passion Heath had showered upon her.

Lily squeezed her eyes closed at the undeniable realization. Heath's strategy had succeeded. The truth was, she wanted to be this man's lover.

Even if she didn't wish to marry him, even if she didn't want his tenderness, she wanted to know the magical mysteries of passion and desire that he could unveil to her.

Chapter Eleven

I was eager to divert his lordship's attention away from me, but I never expected to kindle my own jealousy.

—Lily to Fanny

Lulled by the sensual haven Heath had created for her, Lily fell asleep in his arms, physically sated yet with her thoughts in turmoil. And when he woke her sometime during the night, whispering that he didn't want to be discovered in her bed, the parting kiss he gave her aroused her turmoil all over again, along with her deplorable longings.

Dismayed by her weakness, Lily rose and donned her nightdress before returning alone to her bed. But she spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep, powerless to forget Heath's touch, his scent, his warmth, his tenderness. And she rose early, bleary-eyed and fatigued and muttering invectives against her lamentable response to his cunning tactics.

Not only had he given her a taste of wonder, he'd left her craving his passion and fighting the temptation to take their relationship even further.

Trying to crush the scalding memory of his lovemaking, Lily washed and dressed as she considered her dilemma. Regrettably, she couldn't think about leaving London just yet in order to avoid Heath. Even though her tutorial services wouldn't be needed now that the soiree was over, she had agreed to play the courting game with him, and honorably, she would have to see it through to the conclusion, particularly since he had fulfilled his part of the bargain by bringing suitable candidates to the soiree. Besides, her friends' debt to O'Rourke still remained unpaid.

But clearly, Lily reminded herself, she couldn't afford to let down her guard with Heath any more than she already had. Most certainly she had to stop herself from such foolishness as yearning to be his lover.

Perhaps she should even start preparing for the disturbing possibility that he might actually win their game. He had an entire week left to earn only two more points and the right to court her publicly for another quarter.

Which meant it was imperative that she begin building an emotional wall between them, Lily realized. Otherwise she would leave herself much too vulnerable to him.

Lily was still contemplating how to improve her defenses when she went down to breakfast. To her surprise she found the dining room occupied by both Fleur and Chantel in addition to Ada Shaw. It was rare that the elderly beauties rose before ten.

Ada looked as contented as the proverbial cat who'd drunk an entire pot of cream, while the older courtesans were smiling broadly.

“Our soiree was a grand success, Lily,” Fleur said at once. “Fourteen of our girls made arrangements for new patrons.”

“Yes,” Ada chimed in. “And
I
made the best conquest of all. I found a rich earl who will be setting me up as his mistress.”

“And I,” Chantel added happily, “believe that Lord Poole is interested in me once more. If I play my cards right, I may be able to persuade Poole to contribute to our debt fund.”

“You forget,” Fleur drawled wryly, “that cards are what got us into this predicament in the first place.”

“Of course I have not forgotten,” Chantel retorted. “It was simply a figure of speech. Or perhaps you are merely jealous that I have found a beau after all this time?”

Fleur made a scoffing sound. “Of course not! I don't begrudge you a beau, darling. Especially not one who is old and fat and creaks when he bends. Poole wears more corsets than I do.”

When Chantel's expression turned miffed and pouting at the same time, Lily hastened to intervene, expressing her delight at the success of the soiree—which fortunately sent the courtesans off into raptures about how splendid the evening had been and detailing which pupils had garnered the chance to improve their circumstances and move up in the world of the demimonde.

By the time Fleur and Chantel finished breakfasting and exited the dining room together, they were fast friends again.

Left alone with Ada, Lily sent up a silent thanks that they had been too busy last evening to notice her absence or her failure to return to the drawing room. She did
not
want to have to confess the wanton, scandalous things she had been doing with Lord Claybourne in her bed during the final hours of the soiree.

Thus, her thoughts were greatly distracted when Ada spoke.

“Lord Claybourne seems quite taken with you, Miss Loring,” Ada commented.

“Why do you say so?” Lily answered absently as she sipped her coffee.

“He won't so much as look at any of us girls when you are around…nor when you are absent, either.”

“I wish he
would
look at someone else,” Lily muttered in a low undertone.

“Truly?” Ada's tone held surprise. “You want him to look elsewhere?”

Realizing she'd spoken her thought aloud, Lily looked up to find Ada watching her shrewdly.

“Most women,” Ada pointed out, “would rightly sell their souls to have the attention of such a magnificent man.”

Feeling her cheeks warm, Lily occupied herself with spreading marmalade on her toast. “Perhaps, but I am inclined to keep my soul for my own.”

“I heard that his lordship wants to wed you,” Ada added leadingly.

“So he claims, but I don't want to wed him.”

“You don't want to be a marchioness?” Her eyes widened as if she couldn't comprehend such a sacrilege. “I would give up my new protector in the blink of a pig's eye if I thought I had a chance at winning Lord Claybourne's patronage.” Then she sighed. “But I would never poach another girl's man. At least not one who has been so good to me, as you have been, Miss Loring.”

“Lord Claybourne is not
my
man, Ada,” Lily assured her.

A calculating gleam lit Ada's eyes. “Then you would not mind if I tried my hand at attracting his notice?”

Frowning, Lily wondered how she would feel if the beautiful young courtesan tried to seduce Heath. She would not like it at all, she decided. But then, she didn't have the right to prevent Ada from pursuing him, nor did she even want that right.

“I have no claim to him,” Lily repeated.

“Then if you truly don't mind…I may give it a try. Not that I have much of a chance of succeeding. Most gents are not so hard to seduce, but Lord Claybourne is said to be a splendid lover. I've heard tell he can make a woman weep with joy. It won't be easy to pleasure such a man, or persuade him to take me on, not when he can have any woman he wants.” Ada tossed her head. “But if I cannot do it, then no one can.”

Lily had to agree with her assessment. With her fiery hair, lush curves, and earthy beauty, Ada should appeal even to a jaded nobleman of Heath's discriminating tastes, especially since Ada had learned to temper her vulgar mannerisms over the past month and her speech now sounded almost genteel when she worked at it. Heath might well be attracted to the sensual young siren.

“I expect you are right,” Lily said with a faint smile.

Ada dimpled. “And if I can't, I fancy it could prove his devotion to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, just that if his attention can be turned to me so quick, then you'll know he won't be faithful to you in the long run. 'Tis better to know a man's stripes before you throw your lot in with 'im, I always say.”

“True. My father was an inveterate rake, and I have no desire for a husband who is anything like him.”

Lily found her mouth curling at the remembrance of her father's libertine ways. She doubted Heath was much like her profligate father, but if he readily gave in to the temptation the lightskirt presented, it would indeed prove he didn't want her all that much after all.

And in truth, if Ada
could
seduce him, Lily rationalized, it could solve her own problem of his courtship. If his carnal needs were filled by someone else, he was less likely to be lusting after
her.

“You needn't worry that I will stand in your way, Ada,” Lily murmured. “In fact, Lord Claybourne is coming to call at eleven. You are welcome to greet him in my place.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Loring. I believe I know just how to go about it.”

         

Ada's plan was relatively simple: Upon the marquess's arrival, she would descend the front staircase and contrive to fall at his feet, so that he would have no choice but to assist her. Ada was an actress, after all, and she intended to put her thespian skills to good use.

Lily was beginning to have second thoughts, however. Even though she'd voiced no objection to Heath's possible seduction, she felt strangely anxious for the entire remainder of the morning. And she found herself watching the mantel clock in Fleur's sitting room as eleven o'clock approached.

When eventually she heard the front door knocker sound, she slipped out into the corridor and edged toward the head of the stairs where Ada was poised to begin her performance.

All went perfectly according to the courtesan's plan, Lily saw, watching clandestinely from above. Moments after Lord Claybourne turned over his hat to the houseboy, Ada twisted her ankle on the bottom stair and fell gracefully to the parquet floor directly in front of him.

At her small cry of pain, Heath immediately came to Ada's rescue. And when she professed a need to lie down, he was compelled to carry her into the nearest room with a sofa, which happened to be the first floor parlor.

Unfortunately, Lily soon discovered, from her position on the second floor landing, she couldn't see or hear what was transpiring between Ada and their noble guest.

Five minutes passed before Lily's impatience won out over her better judgment. Descending the staircase, she slowly made her way down the corridor toward the parlor door, yet she could hear little there either, save for the murmur of voices.

Fighting the urgent need to rush in after them, Lily instead forced herself to stand in the corridor, although chiding herself all the while. She couldn't believe she was hovering about in this pathetic manner. She didn't give a fig if Heath was kissing Ada, or touching her, or stroking her, or bringing her to pleasure the way he'd done
her
—

Lily stifled a groan at the tormenting image of him making love to the beautiful Cyprian, and after another moment, admitted that it was futile trying to fool herself. She
hated
to think of Heath with another woman. She didn't want him kissing anyone but her, pleasuring anyone but her.

When the low rumble of his voice was followed by his amused chuckle, Lily stiffened. She had to stop Ada from seducing him, despite her original assent to the plan!

Bracing herself for what she might find, Lily tried to keep her steps unhurried as she moved to the door, but when she entered the parlor, she came up short.

Ada was indeed lying on the sofa, lounging back against a pillow in a languid, seductive pose, while Heath sat at the lower end with the girl's bare foot in his lap, her slipper and stocking gracing the carpet. He was massaging her ankle gently, much as he'd done to Lily's foot in his carriage the afternoon of the garden party.

A pang of dismay shot through Lily, along with a fierce sting of jealousy—both of which she tried to quell as she loudly cleared her throat.

Ada glanced up with a start. “Oh, Miss Loring. I did not expect you.”

Lily forced a smile. “I was supposed to meet his lordship at eleven but was delayed.”

Heath, she noted, seemed not a bit discomfited that she had caught them together. In fact, he didn't even stand in her presence, as any gentleman normally would.

“Ada, my dear, are you in pain?” Lily asked, pointedly regarding the courtesan's bare foot.

“Well, I
was
—I sprained my ankle quite dreadfully—but Lord Claybourne has taken all the pain away.” Ada fluttered her kohl-darkened eyelashes up at him. “I vow, 'tis splendid for a girl to have such a gallant savior.”

“Yes,” Lily responded in a dust-dry tone, “his lordship does enjoy playing the hero.”

He also looked as if he was enjoying the beauty's attention, Lily thought, feeling piqued. “Ada, I will ring for Ellen to bring you a cold compress if you like.”

When she started to move across to the bellpull, however, Heath's easy drawl followed her. “Have the compress delivered to Miss Shaw's bedchamber. I intend to carry her there since she cannot walk.”

“Oh,
thank
you, my lord,” Ada breathed in a husky murmur. “I don't know how I would have managed if you had not rescued me.”

“I cannot let you suffer, now can I?” he said with a caressing smile.

Although clenching her jaw, Lily had no choice but to comply with his request. By the time the maid Ellen came scurrying into the room, Heath had scooped Ada up in his arms and was smiling down into her eyes while she clung to his neck and gazed back up at him in adoration.

When he strode from the parlor with his feminine burden, Lily quickly gave instructions to Ellen, then snatched up Ada's shoe and stocking and followed Heath up the front staircase.

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