Two Shades of Seduction (12 page)

She wanted to see him naked.

Hot and fiery, the thought warmed her body until she was no longer shivering. A shudder rippled through her, and her cheeks burned. Sweet heaven, what had provoked such a thought? She closed her eyes for a brief moment. A second later, she opened them again to see his shoulders flex beneath his white shirt as he stoked the smoking wood until another flame shot up.

He was the most virile man she’d ever met, and he stirred feelings inside her Shively never had. The spot between her legs tightened until she longed to assuage the ache with her fingers as she often did in the privacy of her room. What would Quentin say if she asked him to relieve her need in the same way? Her heart skipped a beat at the wanton thought.

Oh god, she was losing her mind. How could she be so attracted to a man so much younger than her? Flames crackled in the hearth and the temperature in the hut slowly inched its way upward, but she was certain her thoughts were providing most of the warmth in her body. She jumped slightly as Quentin stood up to face her. The dark expression on his face made her pull his coat jacket closer around her.

“What in God’s name possessed you to ride out in the rain?”

“I told you before, it wasn’t raining when I left the hall,” she said with exasperation.

“You couldn’t look at the sky,” he snapped. “I would have found a way to get word to you as to when and where to meet me tomorrow.”

“I did look at the sky, but I…”

Sophie flinched as she realized she was about to admit that she’d wanted to see him again. It was the truth, but she had no desire to tell him so. He would think her an old fool. Humiliation created a knot in her throat.

“But what, Sophie?” A flash of emotion flickered in his green eyes, and she drew in a quick breath.

“You already had two of the ledgers, and I wanted to see if you would still honor our bargain,” she lied.

At her words, he grew as still as a predator before leaping on its prey. The danger she already knew existed inside him suddenly manifested in his expression as he pinned her with green eyes glittering with fury. Trepidation scraped down her spine as she stared at him. Not even her father had ever exhibited a fury such as she saw in Quentin’s gaze.

With a guttural sound, he whirled away from her and gripped the stone ledge over the fireplace. Guilt bit into Sophie as she studied the tension in his posture. She’d questioned his honor to save herself embarrassment.

“Quentin…I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should not have—”

“Should not have
what
, my lady?” he snarled as he turned to face her. “I am well aware of my reputation in this county.”

“A reputation that is undeserved,” she said adamantly.

“First you insult my honor and now my intelligence.”

“I am not questioning your intelligence,” she exclaimed. “And I should never have questioned your honor.”

“Perhaps you were not wrong to do so, my lady.” Quentin smiled coldly. “After all, you’re at my mercy at this point in time.”

“At your—” Sophie gasped as he stepped forward and ripped his coat from her shoulders.

“There now. That’s much better,” he said in a brutal tone. “This is the look I’m accustomed to seeing on a Townsend woman.”

Stunned, she stared up him in shock. He’d just compared her to Eleanor. The accusation was as brutal as anything her father or stepsister had ever said to her. No, it was far worse. Pain sliced through her at the way his words cut so deep into her soul. Without a word, she turned and walked to where she’d laid her habit over two rickety chairs.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed in a harsh voice. “That was unforgiveable of me, Sophie.”

She didn’t answer. If she did, she knew she would cry. And she refused to let him see her cry any more than she would ever allow her father or Eleanor to do so. Sophie picked up the skirt of her habit, her fingers fumbling with the wet material as she fought back tears. A warm hand closed over hers, and she tried to jerk away, but his grasp was unrelenting.

“Sophie, please.” The remorse in his soft words sent a shudder through her, and she shook her head.

“I must go,” she rasped. “I’m certain the groomsman will have notified my father or brother that I have not returned.”

His strong hands gently turned her to face him. She closed her eyes in an effort to keep the tears at bay, but a tear escaped to run down her cheek. Immediately, he released a harsh noise and gently wiped the droplet from her skin. She bowed her head to avoid looking at him and brushed at her eyes.

“You can’t go out in the rain until your clothes have dried more, and I’ll not have you catch your death of cold.”

“Quentin—”

“No more, Sophie. We both said words we regret.”

It was an apology and forgiveness in one simple statement. With a nod, she laid the skirt of her habit over the back of the chair. A moment later, Quentin’s jacket rested on her shoulders again. Gently, he guided her back to the fire.

“I’d offer you a seat, but the only thing that isn’t falling apart in here is that.” He jerked his head in the direction of the narrow bed against the far wall.

“I’m fine,” she murmured.

An awkward silence settled over them as they stared down into the fire. Quentin threw another log on the flames, and Sophie stretched her hands out to warm them. Overhead, the rain beat steadily down on the thatch roof, but as the minutes passed, Sophie realized her chemise had begun to dry. She glanced at Quentin, and noted that his breeches were drying quickly as well.

It wouldn’t be long now before they were dry enough to leave, unless the rain failed to ease some. The thought of riding home in the wet, chilly weather was an unappealing one when she was warm and dry here. A mocking laugh echoed in the back of her mind. It wasn’t simply the weather that was making her reluctant to leave.

She quickly rubbed her hands in the warmth of the fire to hide their sudden shaking. He’d brutally insulted her, and yet she wanted to remain here in his company. She was a fool. The quiet in the hut was suddenly broken by the sound of Quentin clearing his throat.

“You’re nothing like her, you know.” His statement made her jerk her gaze in his direction before she quickly looked away. “You have a generous heart. Eleanor has no heart at all.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “It must be hard to love someone who’s treated you so badly.”

“I don’t love Eleanor.” He shrugged his shoulders with an air of apathy. “I doubt I ever did.”

“Oh,” Sophie said quietly, uncertain how to respond to his confession.

“Although, I didn’t realize it until your brother took a swing at me the other day.”

“You must forgive him. Spencer has been away at school for the last six years. His knowledge of events over the last few years has been gained through Eleanor’s letters.”

“In other words, Eleanor’s lies.” Bitterness echoed in Quentin’s reply, and Sophie reached out to touch his arm. Beneath her fingers, his muscles were taut with tension.

“He’s still young, but has a good heart. He only wishes to protect those he loves,” she said fervently.

“What about you? Would he be so quick to defend you?” His question made her laugh.

“The recent bout you had with him will be nothing compared to his defense of me.” She smiled with a shake of her head. “Spencer and I are as close as any real brother and sister would be.”

“Then I shall be prepared for his arrival at the keep when news of our marriage reaches his ears.” There was amusement in Quentin’s voice, and she looked up at him with a smile.

“That is most advisable, my lord.”

“I thought we had agreed to dispense with formality, Sophie.” The quiet observation sounded more like a command, and she stiffened slightly at the irony of his comment.

“In my current state of
déshabille
, I would say we have dispensed with
all
formality.”

There were several feet between them, but despite the distance, she immediately sensed the tension that made him go rigid beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head to study her. Nibbling on her lip, she met his gaze and watched his eyes narrow slightly.

“Your current state of undress is due to poor judgment on your part. It shows a complete disregard for your safety.” The displeasure in his voice made Sophie glare at him.

“I am quite capable of building a fire, and I was in the process of doing so when you burst through the door,” she said with irritation. “If you’ll recall, I was the one who gave you the flint with which to start the fire.”

“I’m not talking about your ability to build a fire, Sophie. What would you have done if some other man had found you here? Dressed like this,” he growled as he gestured at her thin chemise. For a moment, she stared at him in amazement before she laughed out loud.

“I imagine he would have been as embarrassed by my state of undress as you were,” she said with amusement.

“I wasn’t embarrassed, Sophie. Far from it.” There was a hard edge to the softness of his voice that made her heart skip a beat as she blinked at him in surprise.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you have any idea how delectable you looked when I came through that door? And still do for that matter.” His voice had the low, quiet rumble of a tiger. It made her breath catch in her throat as his gaze slid slowly down her body. “Do you really think any man wouldn’t be tempted by you?”

“That’s absurd.” Sophie gulped as she took a quick step back from him.

“Is it?” he murmured as he stepped forward and immediately negated her retreat.

“It’s a ridiculous suggestion. I am not so naïve as to believe any man would desire a spinster of my age.” This time she took several steps backward only to have him follow her.

“You underestimate your charms Sophie.” His voice was like a warm, silky blanket that wrapped her skin in a sensation of heat and lethargy. Perhaps I should prove to you how tempting you are.”

“Tempting?” she gasped.

Alarmed by the excitement spiraling through her veins, she stumbled several steps backwards. In her haste, his coat jacket slid off her shoulders and landed on the floor. Slowly, he bent down to pick the jacket up. He draped the wool garment over a nearby chair without taking his gaze off of her then continued to close the distance between them.

“Surely, you’re not afraid of me, Sophie.” Amusement filled his voice and it made her bristle with anger.

“I most definitely am not,” she exclaimed.

“Not even the least little bit.” His firm lips curled upward slightly, which only emphasized the scar on his face. He looked every bit the scoundrel he claimed himself to be.

“No,” she bit out between her teeth. It was a lie, but she refused to admit it to him.

“Liar,” he said softly as if soothing a skittish mare. Narrowing her gaze at him, she shook her head.

“
You
, are mistaken, my lord,” she said with defiance.

Determined not to let him see how much he really intimidated her, Sophie stepped forward and pressed her body into his. The warmth of him engulfed her in a split second, as he jerked with surprise. The tension in Quentin’s body was emphasized by the way his muscles became rock hard against her hands. Her audacity astonished her, but she liked knowing she’d caught him off guard.

In the back of her mind, she heard a warning to take care, but she ignored it. Instead, she tugged his head downward and pressed her lips against his. Heat seared her mouth as she gently moved her lips against his in a soft kiss. Slowly, she pulled away from him and smiled with triumph.

“As you can see, you’ve already taught me a good deal,” she said with elation.

When he didn’t respond, she eyed him carefully. The expression on his face was unreadable, but the jagged scar cutting its way down his cheek was taut with tension. Something powerful and dangerous filled the space between them, and Sophie’s heartbeat accelerated its pace as she met his gaze. A dark emotion glittered in his gaze, and she immediately realized she’d made a mistake. She’d offered him a challenge, and if there was one thing she already knew about the Devil of Devlyn Keep, it was that he enjoyed a challenge.

“No, Sophie,” he growled low and soft. “We’ve not even begun to explore the dark depths of sin, simply because I’ve had no wish to frighten you.”

“While your consideration is greatly appreciated, Lord Devlyn, I am not so innocent that you need to treat me like an ingénue.”

Sophie almost groaned at her reckless response. She’d already issued him one challenge, what was she thinking to provoke him further. The answer made her senses reel. She wanted him. Strong hands grasped her arms, and he pulled her forward until she found herself crushed against his hard body.

“Then perhaps I should show you exactly
why
you need to fear me.”

A strange fire glowed in his eyes as he stared down at her, and his clean, male scent mixed with smoke washed over her. The rough pads of his fingers grazed her throat as he lifted her chin and lowered his head toward her. The moment his mouth settled on hers, it was obvious she’d miscalculated the potency of his touch.

Hot and searing, his kiss heated her blood with a fire she’d never felt before. Unlike his other kisses, he didn’t coax a response from her. This time he demanded it. Helpless in the onslaught of his caress, she sighed and clung to him as his tongue mated with hers. A shudder of excitement sailed through her as his mouth slid off hers and nibbled its way down her neck to the small crevice of her shoulder.

She wasn’t sure how, but she was suddenly tumbling backward onto the straw mattress of the hut’s narrow cot. One knee pressed into makeshift bed, Quentin towered over her, the scar on his cheek highlighted by the bright flames crackling in the fireplace. Hands braced on either side of her arms, he stared down at her with an expression that sent a rush of excitement and alarm shooting through her blood.

“Unlace your combination.” His mouth thinned when she hesitated to obey the command. “
Now
, or I’ll do it for you.”

The dark command was as rough as the straw pricking at her skin. Her mouth went dry as her fingers fumbled with the laces holding the lightweight corset closed. Beneath his glittering gaze, her skin grew hot, and her breathing became little more than short, rapid gasps for air.