Angel in Scarlet: A Bound and Determined Novel (21 page)

“What if I dare you?”

Did she actually pale? Perhaps it was only a trick of the light.

“Don’t.” Her voice was very soft.

Would she really give in just because he dared her? He could not believe it, but it seemed underhanded in any case. “I would not.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” Her gaze left him and wandered about the room. She focused on the great bed. He watched her throat move—a large gulp. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“I do.”

“And that is why you chose to meet in a room with the largest bed I have ever seen.”

Well, he could not deny that the bed had entered into his thoughts, but…“I have already proved that a bed is not necessary if that is what I want.”

She did not look convinced.

“I do wish to talk,” he stated.

“Perhaps, but that is not all you want.”

“I am a man.”

Her face grew still. “And being a man, if there is a bed your thoughts automatically turn to sex.”

“It does not require a bed.”

Her lips pinched tight. She did not appreciate his humor. “And where the mind goes, the body follows.”

“If possible.”

“That is why I cannot marry you.”

He was losing patience. Stepping forward, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, relishing the velvet of her skin.

Her eyes darkened and a puff of air slipped through her parted lips.

He had her; now to push his advantage.

He moved closer yet, until only a handbreadth separated them. “I do not consider it bad that when I see you my thoughts turn to all the delicious things I would like to do to you.” He stroked his fingers down her shoulders and along her clavicles, slipping the tips beneath the edge of her dress.

A slight shiver took her. Her lips parted farther. Another swallow.

He leaned forward, taking in the fresh lemon scent of her hair.

And then suddenly she was stepping back, pulling away. “No, I don’t object to your thinking of what you would like to do to me. What I object to is that I imagine you are the same with any woman. You want me now, but what about tomorrow or when you are back in Town and some opera dancer catches your fancy. I thought I could live with it. I tried to make myself believe that it was the way of life, but it is too much. Trying to accept it changes me. I cannot be myself and live with knowing you are with another.”

What was she talking about?
He’d never given her reason to have such doubts. “When have I ever given you reason to think that I wanted anyone but you? Have you seen my eyes follow another woman when you are near?”

“And you just happened to be so acquainted with Madame Rouge’s? Or are you going to pretend it was your first time there?”

“Clearly that was not the case. I have not pretended that I do not have experience in these matters, but I do not understand why that is relevant now or what it has to do with you marrying me. You knew all this before.”

She turned and walked away, coming to stop before the window. It was almost full light now. “Yes, but I had not thought about it deeply—and somehow I imagined it would be different when I married. Perhaps if you loved me I would still believe it.”

“I am still not quite sure I understand what has you so upset.”

She turned back to him, and her eyes looked wounded. “I want a husband who will be faithful to me.”

He was obviously missing something here. “And you do not think I would be?”

“Would you?” The intensity of her focus cut him to the quick.

“I believe so. I have always meant to be. It is part of why I have put off marriage for so long.”

“And does your idea of being faithful include having a mistress?”

She knew she’d been determined to be honest, but still she could not believe she was asking these questions. All this time of being silent, of accepting that life worked by certain rules, and now she was breaking them all.

He stood perfectly still. “No, I do not consider having a mistress to be faithful.”

“Truly.” She could not keep the disbelief from her tone.

“Why do you ask these questions?”

Images flooded her mind, of him on the stage and the naked woman so ready to play his flute. “You did not seem to feel that courting required you to be faithful. Do you deny that you had a mistress all the while you were dancing with debutantes? That even when you first paid attention to me, you were indulging with your opera singer or dancing girl, whatever she was?”

His eyes stilled. He had not expected her to know about that.

“An actress, actually,” he finally answered. “And a rather good one.”

Was he trying to defend himself or playing for time? It was hard to know. “Do tell.”

“I am not sure why you are so upset. There is a great difference between matrimony and…”

“Shopping. That is what you were doing, is it not, shopping for a young lady you found suitable?”

Now it was time for his lips to draw tight. “You could put it that way, but I would simply have said ‘searching.’ ”

“And your actress?”

“I am still not sure I understand the difficulty. I was not promised to anyone. She was a necessary distraction.”

“Ah yes, all those rooms with beds that had you thinking of sex.”

He glared at her. “As I said, the bed is not necessary. The thoughts are simply there.”

“Yet you tried to imply that it was I who caused them—not just any woman.”

He turned and walked from her. Pulling a chair away from the small table against one wall, he sat, spreading his legs in front of him. “It is you. I have never been like this before.” He gestured to the flap of his pants. Even now, even in the midst of this discussion, it was clear that his cock was ready.

She was not sure if that was either believable or flattering. “And why should I believe that?”

“Because you believe me. Have I ever lied to you?”

“Not with words.” It was impossible not to believe their whole first courtship had been a lie, given how it ended.

“I am not sure I understand—and I want no further confusion between us.”

She let out a long slow sigh. “How can I not regard the affection you originally showed me to be a lie, when later you told me that none of it was real?”

“I stand corrected. I think perhaps it was my later words that were a lie, although to be fair I did not realize it at the time. I was trying to protect us both.”

“Now I am afraid I’m the one who does not understand.” She went and sat across the small table from him.

He smiled but without humor. “When I first began to pay attention to you, I thought I saw some flicker of what I wanted in a wife. I thought I saw a woman who was willing to take chances for what she believed in—and then you began to act like all the others, always doing what was expected, saying the same words I had heard a dozen times. I do not know who decided that men want wives of no opinion or personality.”

“I know not either, but it is what I was taught. It is what I thought you would want.”

“Well, it was not. When you first caught my attention, it was because you seemed a girl who did not always do what she was taught, a girl who had passion, who would argue with me and challenge me. I thought you were a girl who could see beyond the boundaries of what was proper. If you were not that girl, I wanted to end it between us before true affection was involved.”

She glanced down at her hands. “You were too late. And I changed because of you. I didn’t know what to do. When I realized you would never be faithful to me, it destroyed me—and yet I could not give you up. I found that I had to suppress parts of myself if I wanted to go on, to endure. I could no longer be the girl who jumped without knowing where she would land, the girl who trusted that life would work out.”

“I don’t think we ever know where we will land. It is what gives zest to life.”

“I don’t deny that, but somehow I could not be that woman anymore. It was all I could do to get by each day knowing that you would never truly be mine, knowing that any marriage between us would always be a farce. I was so…I was going to say ‘lost,’ but I do not think it was truly lost. I would never have started this game with you if that woman was not still in me.”

His brow furrowed. “Why did you not simply come and talk to me? Why did you not ask if I intended to be faithful once we had wed?”

“How? I could not ask you about your mistress. And I knew that it was something that women accepted—so I tried hard to accept it.”

“You should have come to me.” He said it firmly.

All she could do was stare at him. He must know how impossible that had been. Even now, when they knew each other so much better, it was all she could do to say the words.

He stared back. “You should have trusted me.”

“I did, and then I saw you and your mistress. I saw you with a naked woman. How was I supposed to trust you after that?”

“What are you talking about?” He looked genuinely confused.

She lifted her chin. “I saw you, you know—with your actress. I was in the theater waiting for my brother one day. I should not have been there, but it seemed as if it could do no harm. The two of you came out onstage—she took off her clothing. She offered to play your flute.”

His brows drew together. “Oh.”

“That is when I changed. It was hard to act normal after that. I wanted to yell and scream, and yet I knew it was not my place. I knew this was how society worked—I just never thought it would work that way for me. Several of my friends had married, and I knew that their husbands had kept women; sometimes my friends had relationships of their own—after the first son, of course.”

“Of course.” His tone was ironic.

“Do you have no more to say? One night you were giving me my first kiss, our first kiss, and I thought feelings were growing between us, and the next afternoon you were cavorting with a naked woman.”

“If I remember the afternoon in question correctly—and despite what you might believe there was only one afternoon that I was with a naked woman onstage—there was very little cavorting going on.”

“She was naked and talking about your flute.”

“Would you quit using that term? I disliked it when Vanessa used it, and I find I dislike it even more now. And, no, I cannot deny I was with her, but I do deny anything happened. Even then thoughts of you were filling my mind, and I did not find her to my taste—even though she always had been in the past.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” He placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. “So will you decide to trust me? That really is the question. If I tell you I will be faithful, will you believe me? I can persuade you, if that is what you need.” His eyes left hers and moved to the bed.

Warmth pooled between her legs. Yes, she was sure he could make her forget—but could he make her trust? “I am still not sure. It’s all so tangled. How can I trust when I know what my eyes saw?”

“I have told you the truth.” He reached out and took her hands, sliding his thumb across her palm. Shivers of fire shot up, ending in her breasts, which seemed to swell and strain at even the slightest of his touches. “That is all I can do. In the end you must decide if you have faith in me. You have trusted me in so much, my angel. Can you not take this last step?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps this is where I should dare you. Should I dare you to believe in me? In any relationship, much must depend on belief in each other. There is no way to be sure what will come in the future.”

“Bliss and Duldon seem sure.”

His thumb ran across the thick pad of her palm. “Yes, but I think they have already been through much together. They are not still exploring each other.”

She felt a flush rise up her cheeks. “I am not so sure about that. Some comments Bliss has made lead me to believe that they still engage in plenty of exploration. I think they even still visit Ruby’s.”

“You may be right, but that is not quite what I meant.” His thumb moved to her wrist, sliding back and forth across the tender skin.

“I know.” She looked down at their joined hands. “But you cannot create troubles just to overcome them. I think perhaps we should get to know each other better first. Then you may ask again.”

His thumb stilled. “That is not possible.”

“Why?”

He held both her hands steady, then waited until her eyes lifted to his. “I did not want to tell you this. I probably still should not tell you. It may cast all I have said in doubt. You must believe that I would not ask you to wed if I did not wish to. What has happened has only made me act faster, not made me change what I want.”

What was he talking about? Angela looked up as a cold chill took residence in her gut. She was already emotionally drained by the discussion and didn’t know how much more she could take. “What has happened?”

He pulled in a deep breath, expanding his chest, the buttons of his shirt pulling tight. “Thorton saw us in the folly.”

She bit down on her lip, feeling the pain, trying to have it lend her clarity. “Truly?”

“Why would I lie?”

She felt as if she were covered in worms. “He saw us? He saw me?” She had the urge to stand and run.

“Yes.”

“And what does this have to do with your wishing to wed me?”

“He claims that if we do not wed he will have no choice but to tell everyone what he saw. I will deny it—and it may seem to stretch the boundaries of belief. In many ways it would have been worse if we had been engaged in something more simple. Who would believe that an innocent virgin would kneel, bound and beautiful, and—”

“They will simply decide that I was neither innocent nor virgin. The fact that I am rumored to have engaged in such activities will ruin me.” She said the words flatly, not allowing any emotion to seep through. If she did not feel it, it could not be real. If she pretended that long enough, perhaps she could come to believe it. She had certainly grown good at pretending, at hiding things even from herself.

“Not if we are married.”

“So you want to marry me because of Lord Thorton’s threats. I didn’t think it could be worse, and now it is. You don’t actually want me at all.”

“We both know that is not true.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And I already explained that I do wish to wed you. Thorton may have sped things along, but the result would have been the same in the end.”

“Do you really think so? I still have not agreed, and now I do not know that I can.” She stood and began to pace back and forth across the small cabin.

“We both know that I could have persuaded you if I had not told you. You want to marry me.” He sounded quite confident.

She turned on him, marching over to his seat. “You sound very sure of yourself, my lord.”

“I am.”

She wanted to hit him. “I won’t force you to this.”

“You are not forcing me.” He reached out and grabbed her hips, holding her captive. “If anything, I am forcing you.”

“I will never know that.”

“I think that I will have to show you.”

“I can’t think of anything you could show me that will change my mind.”

He closed his knees about her legs, so strong, so warm—so distracting.

He released her hips, knowing that his legs held her tight, and instead caught her hands. “We do not have a choice.”

“And I too refuse to be forced.” She tried to pull away.

“Angela.” His voice was low. “Do not do this. You know how this will play out. Don’t push a situation that you cannot win.”

“I just can’t. I can’t.” It was all too much. She felt as if her every emotion had been taken out and stomped on, ground into the dirt. The sound of tears filled her voice, but she would not let them fall.

He pulled her forward until she sat upon his lap. Again she tried to resist, but he held her firm. “Can you not simply agree? You know that it is what you want.”

“I don’t.”

For the first time, his voice sounded harsh. “Do not pretend with me.”

“I am not.” But she was. She did want him, but she didn’t want him this way, didn’t want him forced and tied as firmly as a brace of pheasants.

“God, you try my patience, woman. I think it is time that I show you exactly how persuasive I can be.” He stood, lifting her in his arms.

She struggled more. This was not what she wanted. It wasn’t. But she could feel the excitement brewing within her, feel her heart beginning to speed, feel the ache growing deep within her womb. And still she fought. She could not let him win, could not let it happen this way.

He took three steps and then tossed her upon the bed. She rolled fast and sure, trying to go off the other side, but he caught her ankle and pulled her back. Her legs slid about his until she cradled him between her thighs. The bed was high and she could feel him press against her, feel him grow and twitch.

He caught at her hands and held them tight, stretching them up over her head.

“Please don’t,” she whispered.

“Please don’t what?” He held her still, his eyes searching her own.

“Please don’t do this. I know you can persuade me, make me forget my doubts and feel only the passion that flows between us—but then it will be over and I will have the rest of our lives to face.”

He paused, leaned forward, and pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t know what else to do. There is no choice.”

Part of her knew that was true, but, God, she didn’t want it to be. Could there be anything worse that having her dreams granted in such a twisted manner? “I know,” she breathed.

And then he pulled back, his eyes still upon hers, staring into her, seeing her as she felt she had never been seen before. His gaze dropped to her lips. He pulled in a deep breath and then exhaled. She could feel the heat and moisture against her face. His eyes returned to hers, his pupils almost black. He leaned a little and brushed his lips against hers, so soft she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.