3

Gabriel tried to concentrate on the sway of Miss Ross’s body in the saddle as she trotted past him, but his treacherous imagination kept placing her in a different situation altogether; on top of him as she rose and fell, her naked breasts in his face, his fingers on her clit, stroking her to a climax.

“Was that better?” She pulled up alongside him.

“Hmm. Do it again.”

She pouted as he sent her off around the field again, but it was that or pull her out of the saddle and shove his cock deep inside her. Briefly, Gabriel closed his eyes as his expanding cock kicked against his breeches. He hadn’t felt like this about a woman for years, this driving need to possess, to own, and to dominate. He hadn’t meant to kiss her yesterday either, but the chance to help her win her bet had given him the perfect excuse to tease her. He’d thought he’d never feel capable of wanting a woman like that again. Miss Ross had made a fool out of him, whether she realized it or not.

“My lord?”

“Canter now.”

She sighed, but she obeyed him, her lithe body reacting perfectly to the change of pace and the lengthening of the horse’s stride. She’d be ready to try that abomination of the sidesaddle tomorrow and all his good work would be ruined, but at least she’d have her confidence back. He turned toward the gate and opened it, waiting for her to catch him up. Her knee brushed his as they rode together up the narrow path, sending a jolt of pure lust straight to his cock.

She glanced up at him as the stable boy relieved them of their horses. “Are you going to kiss me again today?”

“Do you want me to?”

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Not particularly.”

He closed in on her, moving her back into the shadows of the huge medieval barn. “Liar.” He sought her mouth, found it already waiting for him, and was engulfed in a fiery need that shocked him to the core. Without further thought his hands worked on the waistband of her borrowed breeches and dragged out the tails of her shirt.

She pulled his hair hard. “What are you doing?”

“Finding your breasts.”

“I …” She stopped speaking and gasped instead as he shoved aside the linen binding her breasts and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He drew hard on her, used his fingers to bring her other nipple to a needy point and then sucked that one, too. She didn’t push him away. She caught the rhythm of his suckling and moved her hips to it, offered herself to him, even if she didn’t realize it. He shoved his knee between her legs until she rode his thigh, felt her fingers tighten and tighten in his hair until he no longer felt the sting of pain, until she climaxed with a muffled scream and buried her face in his shoulder.

Despite his protesting cock, he slowly pulled away and stared down at her. He’d learned the hard way to control his passions, never realizing that his painful experiences might aid him now.

“Are you sure that there isn’t anything you want to ask me, Miss Ross?” He winced at the hoarseness of his own words, the northern burr he’d tried so hard to eliminate from his speech. It irked him that she’d made no effort to win her wager and coerce him into asking her for a dance at the upcoming ball. It irked him that he was attracted to her at all.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” She stuffed her shirt back into her breeches and fastened them. “Or is it your way of suggesting I take you up to my bedchamber and have my wicked way with you?”

God, he’d like that, like her stretched out naked on the sheets, her long legs open wide, his mouth sucking and licking at her wet, willing sex.

Her hazel eyes narrowed and he wondered what she’d seen on his face. “Do you think I’m the kind of woman who would take a lover before marriage?”

He blinked down at her, his salacious thoughts still cluttering his brain. “You let me kiss you.”

“Kissing a man is not the same as bedding one!”

“Surely one thing leads to another?”

“Not always, Lord Swanfield.”

He stepped back just in case. “And how am I supposed to know that?”

“From your long and no doubt varied career seducing women?”

He glared down at her. “I kissed you because I wanted to. If you don’t want me to kiss you, perhaps you should show more restraint and not throw yourself at me and stick your tongue in my mouth.”

His head snapped back as her bare palm met his cheek with a resounding crack. He waited to see if she would hit him again, and saw instead that tears glinted in her eyes. He couldn’t bear that. He swallowed hard. “I apologize for my last remark. It was uncalled for.”

She bit down on her lip. “No, it wasn’t. You are quite right. No single woman should be kissing an eligible man behind the stables. I should be apologizing to you.”

“I liked you kissing me.”

Her smile was wry. “And I liked kissing you, but I’m forced to admit that you are right. It certainly isn’t a very ladylike way to behave.”

He shrugged, aware that all he wanted to do was kiss her again until she screamed his name and begged to take his cock inside her. He’d known she was an unusual woman, and her reaction to his kisses had proved it. But he still had his fences to mend, and for once he was willing to make the effort.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were a loose woman.”

“Thank you—I think.” She smoothed a hand over her disordered hair and glanced up at him. “My family circumstances make it imperative that my conduct is beyond reproach. Sometimes I find it hard to live up to society’s expectations.”

“Obviously you don’t know much about my position in society,” he said dryly. “I have many of the same restraints.”

“Really?” She gave him a speculative look as they both turned to retrace their steps back to the house. “What did you do?”

He kept his gaze on the path. “It’s a long story. I’m sure you’ll find someone amongst your acquaintance to tell you all the juicy details.”

“I’d much rather hear the truth from you.”

He halted on the path and bowed, hoping his smile was as withering as his tone. “Then you’ll have to wait a very long time. Good morning, Miss Ross. I’ll see you tomorrow at five.”

He strode away from her before she said something else to either infuriate or arouse him. How long was it since a woman had elicited such a response from him? He couldn’t remember and didn’t want to remember. What the devil was wrong with him? He’d been much happier just concentrating on his horses.

Yet again, Lisette found herself following after Lord Swan-field as he strode ahead of her. Sheer rage quickened her stride, then finally made her run after him and call his name.

“I wish you would stop walking away from me.”

He didn’t stop. “Our conversation is over.”

“If you weren’t implying that I should ask you to my bed, what were you expecting me to ask you?”

He stopped then but didn’t turn around. Lisette struggled to control her ragged breathing as she waited for his response. When he said nothing, she forced herself to continue. “I assumed you kissed me because you wanted to, but perhaps there is more to it.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, his expression inscrutable. “What more could there be?”

“Surely that is for you to tell me?”

“If you don’t know, then there is nothing to say.”

Lisette resisted the urge to stamp her booted foot or kick him in the shins. Was she angry because she’d realized that while she was unable to resist him, he was totally in control of his actions, aware of his affect on her, and able to pull back whenever he wanted to? She was usually the person who did that. She’d learned from her mother, a master of the erotic arts. Perhaps it was simply her hurt pride that urged her to question him.

“Never mind.” She sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“At five.” He bowed. “I’ll make sure Mr. Green uses the sidesaddle.”

“Tomorrow will be our last lesson before the hunt.”

“Then we should make sure to use the time wisely.”

She glared at him. “Don’t worry, my lord. If you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll keep my tongue in my mouth.”

His mouth twitched up at the corner as if he was about to smile but he quickly suppressed it. “Indeed.”

Lisette watched him leave and headed up the back stairs to her bedchamber. Morning sun stippled the rose-patterned carpet and glinted off the gold mirror outside her door.

“Been anywhere interesting, sister?”

Lisette stiffened as Christian strolled toward her. His cravat was untied and his coat lay over his arm; his hair was tousled as if he had just woken up.

“Just down to the stables.”

“At this hour?” Christian leaned up against the doorjamb. “I thought you loathed riding.”

“Which is why I’m trying to improve.” She put her hand on the door handle. “Excuse me, I have to get changed.”

Christian followed her into her room and shut the door behind him. He strolled across to a chair and sat down. “Did I mention that I saw Lord Swanfield creeping in as well?”

“Did you?”

“He, too, was dressed for riding.”

“How interesting.” Lisette took off her coat and fiddled with the cuffs of her shirt. “And where have you been? You scarcely look as if you are dressed for the day.”

He smiled lasciviously. “I’m not.”

She met his far from innocent hazel gaze. “And yet you have the gall to question me about my whereabouts.”

His eyebrows rose. “My, my, we are defensive this morning. Are you worried I’ll put two and two together and assume you clandestinely met Lord Swanfield in the stables?”

“I did meet him in the stables. He is a hard man to avoid.” Lisette rang the bell for her maid and undid the fastening of her braid so that she could brush out her hair. She was all too aware of Christian watching her in the mirror.

“And?”

“And nothing.” She turned to smile at him. “He really is the most infuriating man.”

Christian stood up. “I don’t believe you.”

“That he is infuriating? Trust me, the man has the manners of a commoner and the morals of an elderly nun.”

“And you know this because you’ve tried to flirt with him?”

“I’ve given up trying to flirt with him. I leave that to Emily.”

Christian didn’t look convinced. “I think I’ve seen him at the pleasure house.”

“So?”

“So, don’t trust him.”

Lisette forced a laugh. “Really, Christian, if I mistrusted everyone who went to Maman’s I wouldn’t have any confidence in the vast majority of the aristocracy, the entire house of Lords, and quite a few members of Parliament.”

Christian headed for the door. “If you don’t want to listen to me, I’ll leave you to dress.”

Lisette stood up, too. “You haven’t said anything worth listening to yet.”

“I’ve suggested you keep away from Lord Swanfield. Isn’t that enough?”

“You suggested nothing. You merely told me not to trust him. And I don’t. I’m not stupid, Christian.”

His smile was reluctant. “I know that.” He studied his fingers. “But, God knows why, I get the sense that he is important to you.”

“More important than you, perhaps?” Lisette tried to make a joke of it. “Are you jealous?”

Christian looked at her steadily. “Yes, I think I am. It’s not like you to defend another man.”

Lisette sighed. “Why are you making this so difficult? I haven’t asked where you were last night. I haven’t made assumptions about your choice of companion or commented on your morals.”

“And you never do, do you?” His smile was rueful. “I’ve always tried to protect you from the worst of my excesses.”

Lisette bit her lip. “I don’t need protection from Lord Swanfield. He will be gone after the ball and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

“Let’s hope that’s true. You seem … different this time and that concerns me.” Christian nodded as Lisette’s maid entered the chamber. “I’ll leave you to dress.”

Lisette sat back down again, her thoughts in turmoil. She and Christian had always been close, some gossiped unnaturally so, and she was shaken by his questions. For the first time in her life she wasn’t willing to share her feelings about another man, to hold him up for either Christian’s ridicule or his approval. She wanted to keep her meetings with Lord Swanfield private. Was that so wrong?

She was almost twenty-two now and no longer a child. Had she finally reached a parting of ways with her brother? Perhaps it was time they grew apart. He had become increasingly distant over the last year anyway, his sexual activities a closely guarded secret; his friends, his adventures no longer shared with her.

Lisette listened to her maid’s chatter and stared at her perturbed reflection in the mirror. If she managed to get through tomorrow’s riding lesson without incident, perhaps her unsettling attraction to Lord Swanfield would disappear and all would be well between her and Christian again. She sighed. Or perhaps it was simply too late to return to how things had been and she should move on.

With a stifled curse she realized she couldn’t trust herself to ride with Lord Swanfield. She craved his touch more than she craved peace with her twin and that was unacceptable. Despite her efforts to behave like a lady she’d allowed a man to make her climax in public! A wave of heat flooded her cheeks and she pressed her hands to her face. There was no excuse. She would have to renege on the arrangement and keep out of his way until he left.

* * * 

“Let me be, man.”

Gabriel scowled down at Keyes, his valet, who continued to fuss over the arrangement of his cravat and the positioning of the single jet pin to secure it.

“Just a minute, sir, and I’ll be done. You want to look your best, don’t you, sir?”

“Not particularly.”

Keyes looked aghast. “You’re going to a ball, sir. You have to impress the ladies.”

“And if I don’t want to impress them?” Gabriel moved irritably away from the mirror, hating the sight of his own face, the same face as the man who’d sired him for the most dishonorable of reasons. “In truth, I wish all women to the devil.”

Miss Ross hadn’t turned up for their riding lesson and she’d avoided him all day. Just to spite her, he’d asked Miss Emily to dance with him at the upcoming ball and endured her rapturous acceptance. But even that hadn’t persuaded Miss Ross to seek him out, and now he was committed to attend the kind of social occasion he loathed. He could only hope he’d manage a moment alone with Miss Ross to set things straight between them, and then he’d leave, hunting be damned.

“You look very nice, sir.”

Gabriel managed a smile. “Thank you, Keyes.”

“Yes, sir.”

His valet forgot his change of circumstances and saluted his employer as if they were both still in the army and Keyes was still his batman. Gabriel found himself returning the salute and then headed for the door. As he paused on the landing, he heard the faint sound of music playing and the gentle swell of conversation. Apparently, Lord Knowles’s Hunt Ball was a much anticipated local event that drew in all the aristocratic families for miles around. Many of them stayed the night in order to be up bright and early for the hunt, which started the next day in front of the big house.

Gabriel took a deep breath. He hated crowds, but if he wanted to buy the horses, he had to do his duty to his host and not abuse his hospitality. He found himself still hesitating and looked down from the minstrel’s gallery onto the crowds below. He spotted the younger Miss Ross and strained for a glimpse of the older. Ah, there she was, dressed in a pale blue gown that seemed to shimmer. He had no idea what the name of the fabric was, but he liked the way it clung to her long legs.

He wanted her. There was no logic behind the thought, just a deep instinct that terrified and excited him. He’d spent the last few nights, his cock in his hand, endlessly fantasizing about the sex they would have, endlessly coming, his cock now sore from the attention, but he wouldn’t change anything. Her unusual directness appealed to him at a very basic level, as did her ability to both inhabit the polite world of the ton and yet revel in her deep sensuality. Perhaps she might be able to teach him the way of it. Despite himself, he’d begun to hope that maybe there was a way out of his current sexual dilemma, a way to overcome his past and move forward.

He put his thoughts into action and made his way down the stairs toward his host, who stood greeting his guests at the entrance to the ballroom. Gabriel bowed and received a welcoming smile in return. Lord Knowles liked a man who knew his horseflesh, and Gabriel had enjoyed sharing his knowledge with him.

“Ah, Lord Swanfield. I believe my younger daughter is expecting you to dance with her. Perhaps you would care to partner her for the opening set?”

“Of course, my lord.” Gabriel forced a smile. “It will be my pleasure.”

He waited patiently at Lord Knowles’s side until Miss Emily appeared, and took her hand and walked with her into the ballroom. Heat from the massed candles and the noisy conversation rolled over him like a suffocating wave. He realized she was speaking to him, but she spoke so quickly he could barely understand her. He smiled and nodded, hoping she didn’t notice his struggle to overcome his sudden claustrophobia.

“Ooh, Lord Swanfield, this is so exciting!”

Gabriel had nothing to say to that and concentrated on getting her to the middle of the dance floor. The small orchestra struck an opening chord and he forced his feet to move through the intricate steps of the country dance. After a few moments, he realized that there was another couple on the floor, Lord Knowles and Miss Ross. In control of himself now, he tried not to look at her every time the dance brought them closer together, tried to focus his attention on charming Miss Emily and making her smile. Not that that was hard work; she seemed inclined to giggle at everything he said.

When the music ended, he remembered to bow and lead Miss Emily off the floor, but his attention was for Miss Ross, who seemed to have disappeared again. He ignored several comments from other guests and headed in the direction he’d last seen her. She was talking to another man, their fair heads close together, his fingers casually stroking the curve of her elbow.

Gabriel stopped walking and simply stared at the couple, aware that he was reacting far too strongly to another man holding her, touching her skin. At last, the man moved away and she was alone. She looked up, straight into Gabriel’s eyes, and he bowed and walked toward her.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

“I’m already engaged for this dance, my lord.”

He shrugged. “Then tell whomever it is you are sorry and let me get you some refreshments instead. It will be much easier to talk that way.”

She raised her chin at him. “I don’t require any refreshments, thank you.”

He glared down at her. “Then you’ll dance with me.” He took her hand and marched her toward the dance floor, drew her into his arms, and started to move.

“This is very high-handed of you.”

“You left me no choice.”

“I didn’t intend to give you a choice. I’ve been trying to avoid you.”

“I know. I’m not stupid.”

She sighed as he drew her closer. “You’re far from stupid and I am far too attracted to you. There is no reason for it, either, because all you do is bully me.”

“I do not bully you.”

“What do you call this?”

“Gentle persuasion.”

“You are an autocratic bully, and I refuse to be told what to do by such a man.”

He found himself smiling. “Some women like to be told what to do.”

“Well, I’m not one of them.”

“Why didn’t you come for your lesson this morning?”

“You know why.”

“You were afraid I would ‘bully’ you into my bed?”

She looked him right in the eye. “No, I was afraid I’d let you.”

He contemplated her response and allowed the simmering excitement in his belly to grow and consume him. “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to take me to bed.”

Her steps faltered and he caught her tightly against him to stop her from stumbling, relished the press of her breasts against his waistcoat. He stepped off the dance floor and pulled her with him, right through the ballroom windows and onto the stone terrace outside.

She wrenched her hand out of his grasp and walked away from him, to a more secluded corner of the garden. She turned her back on him to study the dark parkland beyond the formal gardens. “Are you suggesting that even if I’d thrown myself at you, you would’ve resisted me?”

“Yes.”

She swung slowly around, the thin skirts of her gown catching the slight breeze. “You haven’t resisted me so far. In fact, you have been the aggressor in our encounters.”

“You’re a lady. I want you, but it’s not socially acceptable to …”

“To bed me?”

“Aye, to bed you without offering marriage.”

“And you’re not quite enamored of me yet to offer to marry me.”

“Exactly.”

“Thank goodness for that.” She shut her fan and slipped the band over her wrist. “What if I was married already?”

He shrugged. “Then you would be fair game, as long as your husband was the acquiescent and forgiving type.”

“How nice for you.” She glared at him. “If you were my husband, I would not look kindly on you straying like a tom cat.”

“And I would not like that in a wife.” He sighed. “I’m just trying to be honest with you about what I want.”

“So that you can have an excuse to walk away from me again? Because I have shocked you with my unmaidenly desires?” Her lip curled. “You scarcely strike me as a man who expects to wait for marriage to experience all the pleasures of the flesh. Why should it be different for me?”

He took a step closer and then another. “You’re right. There are other ways to give you pleasure, without bedding you.”

She opened her eyes wide at him. “I know. I’m not stupid either.”

He stepped in until there was no space left between them. “I want you naked, my mouth on you, my fingers buried deep inside you as you scream my name. I want my cock in your mouth, your hand wrapped around my shaft, and my cum all over you. Is that clear enough?”

She blinked at him and took a long, shuddering breath. “Do you always make such romantic speeches?”

He knew that most gently reared young ladies would’ve run away screaming by now, crying for their mothers. He had no idea why he’d known Miss Ross would hear him out, but he’d known it in his soul.

“Have I offended you?”

She turned her head away from him. “No.”

He straightened and realized he’d almost kissed her. “What?”

“I’m not offended by your words.”

He kissed her then, his tongue in her mouth, one hand flattened on the center of her back holding her close. She pulled away from him and pushed at his chest. “I have to go back now.”

“Why?”

“Because I am my father’s hostess.”

“And that means more to you than taking your pleasure with me?”

“Yes.” She curtsied, her back straight, her grace that of a queen. “I’ll think about your interesting offer and let you know after the ball.”

Unconsciously, Gabriel’s hand went to comfort his now engorged cock. “I might not want you after the ball.”

“And I probably won’t want you either and will have thought better of it. Then we’ll have nothing to say to each other after all, will we?”

Anger stirred in his stomach, curdling the lust. “Is this because I danced with your sister first?”

“What?”

“Are you toying with me because you lost your wager?”

“How did you know about that?” She turned back to him, her expression suddenly formidable.

“I overheard something to the effect quite by accident.”

She stormed back toward him. “And you thought what? That I’d deliberately met you in the stables to coerce you into asking me to dance?”

“It was a possibility.”

Her hazel eyes widened as she stared at him. “Is that why you kissed me? You kept asking me whether I had something I wanted to ask you. Was that it?”

“I wanted to give you the opportunity to win the wager.”

“Because dancing with you is such an honor? I knew there was something wrong, I knew it.” She swept him another curtsey. “If I’d wanted to win the wager, I would’ve won it. The whole idea was my sister’s, and I simply went along with her.”

“Easy for you to say now you’ve lost.”

“Lord Swanfield, let me repeat myself. I’m not stupid. If I’d wanted to dance with you, I would have asked you. I’ve never needed to resort to deceit to make a man do anything for me.”

He bowed. “Indeed. And as you’ve obviously decided to blow a trivial thing out of all proportion just so that you can run away from me, I’ll wish you good night.”

“Trivial thing?” She spared him another scathing glance. “Good night and good riddance, my lord. You conceited, arrogant presumptuous idiot!”

She stormed away from him, leaving him alone on the secluded terrace, his thoughts at war with his body’s demands, his temper barely under control. Was he conceited? Surely not. Arrogant? Perhaps …

He sighed and headed for his room. He’d had enough of the ball and of Miss Ross for one night. Her opinion of him certainly didn’t matter; he hardly knew her. He paused on the edge of the ballroom, watched her smiling at her father. So why did he feel so damn wounded? She’d only behaved like the rest of her class. But that wasn’t true, was it? She’d actually admitted to wanting him, and only his stupid insistence on mentioning the wager had spoiled the erotic possibility of a night in her arms.

He bit off a curse. Aye, daft and stupid, that was it. He’d managed to alienate the only woman who had interested him in years. Now all that was left was for him to leave with his dignity intact and try and forget her.