An Improper Seduction (20 page)

“And have you found many candidates while here in London?” Her hands slid up his chest and tangled in the hair at his nape.

“You are the only one.”

He turned his head and took her lips again. She was warm and most willing but she did not fit him like Angeline. Moments later he released her lips again.

“I am afraid, my lord, I will not do.” She looked up at him in the dim light.

“Not do?”

“Your heart belongs to another.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he was confounded by her insight.

“It is the way you kiss me, Geoffrey.”

“Were you not pleased?”

“Yes, but you were not fully here.”

“What matter of that? We fit well together. You have intelligence, wit and beauty. What more could a man want?”

“He could want the woman he loves, Geoffrey. And I am not she.”

“Vanessa, you must be reasonable.” He slid his hands down her arms and took her hands in his.

“I am being very reasonable. I spent ten years being married for reason. My husband was an old man but a good one. He did not abuse me and over those years I became very fond of him. He gave me a son, whom I love very much. But I have done my duty for my family and his.” Her eyes did not blink as she studied his face. “I am alone now and may be for some time. I have decided the next time I choose to marry it will be for love or not at all.”

Geoffrey started to speak but her gloved fingertips settled upon his lips quickly.

“My lord, I do not doubt I could fall in love with you. But you are in love with another. And that is not acceptable to me. At this stage of my life I wish to be someone else’s love. Someone who would cherish and love me as I would love him.

“Geoffrey, I am not that one for you. So you cannot be that one for me.” Her fingers moved from his lips.

“But what am I to do then, Vanessa. I need a wife. I need an heir. One of these young twits would turn me into a lunatic within a month.”

“Will she not marry you? Has she no feelings for you?”

“Yes, she has feelings for me, but she wishes not to marry and has no need to. She is an heiress. She needs not my money nor my title.”

“Have you told her you love her, Geoffrey?”

He turned his face away. “What good would that do? I’ve asked her three times and she has refused every time.”

Vanessa gently turned his face back toward her and looked deeply into his eyes. “Geoffrey, you already said she doesn’t need your money, she doesn’t need your title, she has feelings for you. Just what else do you think a woman, an independent woman, might need from a man?”

Raising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “I’ll leave you to your dilemma, then. I do hope it works out. Please, let me know if it does.”

As she walked away, Geoffrey watched the gentle sway of her hips in the moonlight. Vanessa was a wonderful woman. Maybe if he had not met Angeline first.

But, he had.

He did not return to the ball. There was nothing there for him anyway. He headed for his townhouse. Then, he was getting out of London as quickly as he could pull the last of his business dealings together and going home.

Chapter 23

At dinner the following evening Angeline sat pondering her fate while her father, at the other end of the table, held on a full conversation about the newest foal all by himself. After a knock on the dining room door, Thomas briskly entered.

“A missive for you, my lady,” said the butler, bowing as he presented the silver salver to her.

“Thank you, Thomas. Who delivered it? Do you know?” Angeline inquired as she studied her name written by a flamboyant hand on the envelope.

“A stable boy from the marquess’s estate, my lady,” he responded then bowed out of the room.

Angeline’s face was already flushed, her hands gently shaking as she opened the correspondence. As she read the script, her whole body heated. It contained only one word:
Tonight
.
It was not signed; he had no need for such formality.

At the other end of the table, Angus sat quietly watching the plethora of reactions that passed over his daughter’s face as she handled the paper. He restrained a knowing smile as she struggled to regain her composure but Angus had no doubt from whom the missive had come nor what it contained. She would be out again tonight, returning just before dawn. How much longer this would go on he had no idea but he was sure of one thing, based upon his daughter’s own responses, the marquess would win. In the not too distant future Angeline would marry and it would be Lord Colburn who would take her to wife.

He kept a patient silence.

Angeline’s mind whirled in an explosion of thoughts.
Damn the man! He leaves me for nearly a fortnight then expects me to show up at his beck and call with a simple note of demand. The bastard! I’ll show him! I will give him a piece of my mind he won’t forget. This is all his fault.

Her father cleared his throat. “Is everything all right, my dear?” he inquired pleasantly.

“Huh? Oh, yes, Papa,” she drew out of her reverie to regain control of her unspent rage. “Fine. Everything is just fine. I think I’ll just go out to the garden to—to . . . tend the roses. I really need to tend to the roses.” She pushed back suddenly from her chair, her meal not quite finished, to escape to the world of flowers. Surely she could think there.

But thinking did not help matters at all. The rest of her evening was spent in exhilaration, frustration and anger that
he
had finally returned.

The question still remained, however, was he still free from attachment? And if not, what would she do then?

She channeled her ire as well as her nervous energy as best she could until it was time for their clandestine meeting. A hot bath, her hair washed and brushed dry, a change of clothing, nothing soothed her distracted state. When she could no longer dally, she ran from her room to the cottage in the copse by the lake.

Geoffrey stood at the table with his back to the door. She was late. No matter. Patiently he continued cleaning the strawberries, slicing off the stems, cutting them into bite size pieces, thinking of how much Angeline loved the taste of the berries, with cream, whipped cream.

The door slammed open behind him.
“You bastard!”
she screamed at him as she stomped over the threshold.
“You son of a bitch!”

“Angeline,” he said softly, a slow smile sliding across his face as an inkling of what may have caused her current rage gained foothold in his mind. Calmly he turned around to face her. “I am so glad you have arrived. You are late and I have great need of you. It’s been twelve days and twelve very long and lonely nights.”

Just then Angeline’s eyes dropped to see who or what she faced. There he stood with a bowl in one hand, stark naked, his shoulders broad and strong, his hips narrow, his legs muscled and his flagrant manhood aroused to the hilt. His sex jutted out from his body as a blatant dare for her to try to ignore him, to try to ignore her need of him.

“Don’t you touch me,” she screeched as he started to approach her. “You’ve done enough damage.”

“Damage? I don’t remember leaving any marks, any scars. I am quite sure your skin and body are as pristine as the day we met, with the exception of your maidenhead of course.” He cautiously approached closer.

“I’m increasing, you bastard.” She took a small step back from his oncoming assault.

“My sainted mother would take exception to that statement. She was always true to my father. Truly? You are increasing? It was bound to happen sooner or later. There were no assurances, of course, but the possibilities were definitely great considering how we have been fucking each other’s brains out,” he said, the smile broadening upon his face. As Angeline opened her mouth to descend more explicatives upon him, he popped a cream-covered strawberry into her mouth. Her stunned look assured him he had caught her off guard as she tried to hastily chew the fruit, but when she opened her mouth again he popped in yet another cream-laden berry.

Angeline stepped back as she chewed. Geoffrey stepped toward her. She opened her mouth again to speak. Another berry was popped in despite her hands pushing firmly against his chest. She stepped back again. He followed closing her against the side of the bed. She pushed harder but to no avail as the next sweet confection was forced upon her as soon as she opened her mouth.

“My dear,” he crooned in her ear, “I have been without you for far too long. I am in most desperate need of you now.” With one hand he flipped her onto her back upon the bed as he set the bowl of berries down on the bedside table. In a trice he tossed up her skirts and was upon her, sliding his warm, berry-juice stained hand between her legs. “Oh, yes,” he whispered into her ear while she labored at ridding herself of the succulent berries. “You are already wet for me.”

Without further hesitation Geoffrey slid his rampant member into her warm, moist sheath releasing a groan as he felt the pleasure of her body wrapped around his own. His hands moved to her bodice to quickly loose the buttons then followed with his lips upon her nipple to bring it to rapt attention. He savored the moan that now escaped his lover’s lips.

Angeline swallowed the last of the strawberry then gasped for breath as the heat and hardness of him filling her and the sensations of his mouth on her breast drove all other thoughts from her mind. He was suckling her, tenderly biting her nipple, licking, taunting and teasing her. And she was already filled with desire for him. Damn her own body. How could she keep her thoughts straight when her body defied her whenever he came within ten feet of her? Bloody hell. He didn’t even have to be in the room. All she had to do was think of him and she flushed and heated and grew moist. Was there no hope left for her self-control?

He moved his lips to her mouth murmuring, “Tell me you missed me, Angeline. Tell me you missed feeling my cock inside your cunt. Your body tells me this is true, but tell me. I want to hear you say it.” He kissed her hard, pushing her lips apart so he could ravage her mouth with his tongue. She pushed her hips up to meet his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank her nails in his back. He groaned.

“Yes. Yes, Geoffrey, I missed you. You shouldn’t have left me . . .” she whispered back as she wrapped her legs around his waist to draw him deeper inside her. Then she hesitated, pulling herself away.

“But wait. I must know. Did you betroth yourself to some lame-brained chit while you were away?”

His head came up, his eyes dark green and fired with passion. “No, my angel.” He returned his attention to her breast.

She pushed him away again. “Tell me you are not already wed.” It was difficult to keep the panic from her voice.

A smile crossed his face. “Trust I would not be buried between your luscious thighs if I had the misfortune of wedding another. Our encounter would have been formal and in your father’s home. Now stop asking such silly questions. I need you now.”

Geoffrey thrust into her, deeply then shallowly, building her, pulling her along. He kissed her lips, dragged kisses along her jaw, around her ear, down her neck. Her body trembled in his arms but he seemed to be holding back his full passion for as long as he could.

Angeline tensed to hold back the feeling, to keep from letting go of the climax Geoffrey was demanding of her. She wouldn’t let go. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But once again her body turned traitor as the waves of release rolled over her again and again and again. She convulsed in his arms, holding him as tightly as she could, feeling him stroking her more quickly, not stopping, unrelenting until she shattered and he climaxed with her, pouring his seed into her again, gasping for breath and filling his need and hers.

When the release was finished, when they had both let go, Geoffrey lay quietly next to her, holding her in his arms. “Mmmm, just as good as I remembered. And you tasted of strawberries and cream. How I love pouring my seed into you,” he crooned.

His last comment brought Angeline back to the present in a trice. She tensed her body and pushed against his as she jumped from the bed.

Taken unawares, Geoffrey was pushed from his repose and fell to the floor onto his backside. “What the bloody hell was that?” he snapped.

“Your seed. You bastard. I’m increasing because of your bloody seed,” she spat at him.

Geoffrey raised himself from the floor then moved toward her forcing her back against the door. “Your bloody, damned right, my seed. It’s my seed you carry inside your belly, isn’t it?” he demanded.

“You damned well know it is. There was no other in my bed before you and there has been none but you since, you degenerate dog,” she threw back at him.

He moved up to her taking the front of her bodice into his strong hands as she flattened back against the door, sliding the fabric down her arms to bare her breasts. Then he pushed his hands behind her to release her skirt and petticoat feeling them slide to the floor between them. “It better be mine,” he roared.

“Of course it is, I’m your whore,” she screamed back.

He moved closer, pushing against her belly, his cock aroused once again. “You are not my whore,” he whispered into her ear. “I have never paid you for your sexual favors. You are not even my mistress since I have never gifted you with anything except my seed. But you are mine, for exactly that reason, I gave you my seed and you carry it in your body,” he growled as he lifted her onto his jutting organ.

“
No
,” she said. As her legs wrapped around him, he sank home.

“You wanted me. You wanted this.” He pushed deep inside her again. “Tell me you didn’t ache for me while I was gone. Tell me you didn’t think of me sinking my cock deep inside your slick, hot cunt. Look how wide you spread your legs to take all of me inside of you over and over.” He thrust in and out of her hard and deep losing control of his need and not caring.

Angeline was lost again, her body wanting to take all of him, to be close to him, as close as she could get, for as long as she could have him. Her body throbbed for him, tightened around him, drew him in. “ Yes,” she screamed as she came again, convulsing, pushing, grasping, tearing at his hair while he poured his seed into her one more time.

He held her against the door, his hands gently squeezing her bottom as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ll never get enough of you, Angeline. You are mine. Only mine. I want to spill my seed into you forever.” Slowly he let her legs down, let her feet touch the floor so she could regain her composure.

Angeline’s mind was spinning, her body still throbbing from their coupling. His seed. She was pregnant because of his seed. She pushed him away and stormed to the other side of the room.

“You knew,” she accused. “Could you not have taken precautions? Are there not such things? You did it intentionally?”

Again he advanced upon her. Her fury aroused him every time, almost instantaneously. The more indignant and scornful she became, the more he wanted to tame her, to possess her, to make her his.

“Of course I knew. Certainly there are, but that would not have suited my purposes. I’ve spent enough Seasons in London. I know what the mamas do to try and snare the likes of me for their dim-witted debutante daughters. Even without the title I had money enough to be desirable on the marriage mart. I spent a lot of my time escaping the well-set snares of the matrons. I think it only too appropriate I used those exact methods to get what I wanted,
you
. And you were only too happy to oblige me.”

“So you admit it,” she spat at him. “You deliberately got me with child?”

In front of her again, he gently pushed her back toward the bed. “Most effectively it would seem. I wanted a wife, an heir and you, Angeline. Now you must marry me or have a bastard to raise on your own. What would your father say? Especially when I tell him that I am only too willing,” he told her as he flipped her onto the bed face down then climbed between her legs. “And, you. Would you really wish to see me marry another? Have another bear my heir and let your child, my first born, be passed over? I think not.”

“How could you be so low?” she vented.

“I always get what I want, Angeline. And I want you. I was willing to tip the scales in my favor if the Fates would support me.” With that pronouncement he grabbed her by the waist and sunk his sex into her from behind.

Angeline gasped at his entry once again. He ignored the fact that she was swollen from his rough handling and so exquisitely sensitive as well. Again her body welcomed him. She pushed back against him. She was still so highly strung she started to climax immediately, gasping for breath, losing control.

“Oh, Angeline,” he groaned as he felt her sheath throb and contract around him. “Oh, Angeline. How can I control myself when you do this to me? You take me so easily. Every time. Over and over. Angeline,” he groaned as he joined her dance and her ecstasy.

Exhausted, Geoffrey laid down next to her and wrapped her tightly in his embrace. He still could not comprehend the level of feelings that rushed over him when he thought about her, when he was with her, even in the most platonic of circumstances, and, especially, when they made love. He held her close, sighing with his contentment. She was carrying his seed, his child. Surely she would marry him now. Did he have to put it into words? Risk being made a fool?