Dare To Love (17 page)

That’s when Gwendolyn flinched realizing
their interaction went way too far. “Oh God, stop…please…just
stop.”

Thomas was out of breath; he pulled away from
her momentarily only to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Must I?”

Gwendolyn received his one last kiss then
became totally embarrassed; realizing the possibility…the,
indiscretion…what were they thinking? She tried to fix her gown to
its original state. “Look at me, look at what you have done!”

Thomas blinked out of his trance. “Me?” He
retorted; realizing she had withdrawn his shirt restricted to his
trousers, his cravat, unraveled, spilled in front of his waistcoat
and the front button of his shirt undone. “My clothes did not
liberate themselves, you naughty girl.”

Gwendolyn noted his tousled attire, “Oh!
Insufferable!” She was more ashamed of her actions, what the heck
came over her? “What, pray tell, do you think was about to
happen?”

“I sense the course was mutual.”

Gwendolyn concentrated on Thomas twirling his
cravat in front of him in a tease. She fixated on his sinfully
pleasing mouth and turned away, blushed, unruffled herself. Why did
she feel so lustful when around him? Her actions were untamed; she
had never felt anything like that. He was also too clever these
days, “What course?”

“We were about to make love.”

“We were?” Oh dear, they were…it was what her
body craved, was it not? Amazing what direction the body will take
you once you give it a nibble.

Thomas bent over and tried to see her face
more clearly. She had turned around and began to stroll away,
tucking and brushing herself down along the way. He tracked her,
only to grab her by the arm and whirl her around, “Is that a blush?
Are you blushing, Gwendolyn?”

“No,” she rejoined, regaining her poise.

Thomas smirked and was engorged with
gratification, “Well, I must say, whatever the consequence, it was
nice to finally see you receptive.”

“Huh!” She respired, realizing he was right,
“That outburst was not civilized, Thomas.”

“When is passion ever polite?”

“Passion?”

“Gwendolyn, we have always encompassed it,
you and I. Why does this shock you?”

Gwendolyn closed her mouth and looked
intently at him. He had this satisfied cast upon his front. God, he
looked wonderful, kissable, yes, she wanted to kiss him again and
again. Was that what she was feeling all along? Passion? Oh God,
she hated passion, and she despised him even more for having
detected it first. “There is no you and I…it was…nostalgia, that’s
all.” Gwendolyn tried to expunge the fanatical sensation she was
encompassing. Encompassing? Yes, rather hard to ignore all sides of
her bursting with desire for him.

Thomas smirked, “Do accept my apology
Gwendolyn, but my reflection turned into an investigation…it must
have been the dress.”

Blasted man, she thought, hesitating when she
realized he was the one who purchased the gown. “You did not.”

“I most definitely did.”

She tsked at him, “So inappropriate.”

“But suitably appropriate to your shape…just
like I imagined.”

He said it so huskily, that Gwendolyn nearly
grabbed his head to her bosom for a second time. “No more gifts,
Thomas.”

He started to hoot and brought his eyes down
and then back up again to meet her bravado. “Gwendolyn, consider
yourself fortunate that you have found a partner who likes to share
his fortune.”

Gwendolyn let go an insensitive smile, “A
partner, Thomas? I do not see our partners in this span.”

Why does she keep reminding him that she was
still not his? Thomas was, nevertheless, encouraged, his green eyes
sinister and persuasive. “Consider it a souvenir then, for a most
pleasurable interaction.”

Gwendolyn marveled in the way he spoke, his
voice deep and swaying. “Do you give gifts to all the women you
have interacted with?”

“Only to those I expect to be intimate.”

“We were not about to be intimate.”

“We’ll see how long you deny yourself the
pleasure. Not many stand where you are now and not want to satisfy
their gain.”

His erotic grin nearly discharged her moral
fiber; she laughed moronically, only to close her mouth. “So there
has been many?”

“Many what?”

“Women.”

Thomas sensed that she was probing. “I am no
rake Gwendolyn, but I do hold a certain finesse with the softer
sex.”

“Your kiss hasn’t improved that much,” she
managed to say, watching with spherical eyes, his second attempt to
test her. Thomas leaned in skillfully, not touching her anywhere
else but his intended target. Gwendolyn stared at his approaching
brashness, hesitated, and then naturally parted her lips to receive
him.

Thomas stopped just inches from her kiss,
circled his eyes about her face and grinned into her surrender.
“You see…you still want me.”

“I do not.” Gwendolyn promptly replied. Liar.
Oh yes…she did, she really, really did. She doesn’t want to be
quarrelling with him; she wanted to collide with him. And, oh dear
God, as she continued to be tempted by his suggestive glare, she
wanted to carnally lie down. One kiss was not enough…she wanted him
naked now and buried deep. She was so in love with him, she
recognized instantly…Still in love with him…in love with a man who
savored her on his engagement supper to another woman!? Damn him!
Why did being reunited have to be so bloody complicated? Gwendolyn
quickly overruled her runaway emotions. “The devil take you Thomas
Hollinger,” she declared on her way out the conservatory only to
stop at the entrance to turn around. He was still so confident, and
she loathed that puffed-up chest of his. “How dishonorable you have
become, Tommy. The sooner I leave here, the better…you’re just a
distraction…you and your…clothes.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Thomas arrived back at the gathering in a
purely primitive manner. The fury his infant bride influenced was
not of this earth. He had never felt that kind of insatiate need
with any other woman…not even within his private moments with
Katrina. God, he was…obsessed. Her words, her eyes, her hair, her
body and that kiss—the burning desire she inflamed in him! God, he
knew this would happen! Give that woman just a little bit of his
interest and she would be smothering him with her gratifying
attention. This little game he had been playing had not gone
according to plan. Bloody everlasting hell…the devil take sexual
attraction! Idiot, fool! He was always trying to catch her true
position, forever trying to trip up her true sincerity. Why was she
always so hard to pin down? And now, he had to sever being
standoffish, the diversion suddenly gone fishing. The further time
he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend. Want, desire was
substandard to what he was feeling now. Not since the yearning of
getting back to Britain had he sought after something so badly. He
was a man at her mercy, anything that she demanded, he would hand
her.

Thomas stood possessed and imprisoned by
Gwendolyn’s nonchalant allure. She was waltzing with Devin now,
smiling, carefree and enjoying his expertise. The devil take him as
well! Why does he feel so envious of Devin’s arms? He’s never
envied Devin, not one little bit! In fact, as he eyed several other
bachelors eyeing his forgotten treasure, the vision of her dancing
with any other man practically ate him inside out. Oh, bloody
hell…he wanted to punch anyone who laid eyes upon her…Good God,
what was happening to him?

“Take me to your room?”

He felt her presence, but was concentrated on
the reflection before him. Katrina had flounced up behind him and
enfolded her arm within his.

“What, why?”

Katrina watched her brother dancing with
Gwendolyn and thought how finished they looked with one another.
She then eyed the many guests glued to her presence and awarded the
gossipmongers a taste of her good fortune by leaning into Thomas
intimately. Through clinched teeth, she lowered her voice, “Because
my dear Thomas, that incensed look on your face show’s charm to
others, but I know what prurient desire lies behind those dark eyes
of yours.”

Thomas turned to look at her, she was indeed,
a beautiful woman besides; her blonde curls set about her milky
white complexion, her exquisite laced ball gown made of pink satin,
a bodice cut lower than was fashionable enticing added male
attention than was proper. This was his supposed engagement
celebration, what was wrong with him? He should have been exultant,
and yet, he had never been more miserable!

He knew how it would appear if he were to be
seen walking away from her, but he did it anyways and noted the
reaction of some of his close by guests. Katrina stood alone now,
with Thomas withdrawing from her affection.

Just then, the queen rumormonger herself,
Lady Trousley, cornered Thomas. A rather portly woman who liked to
squeeze herself into the latest fashion whose assets oftentimes
spilled out because of their tension. “Trouble in paradise, Your
Grace?”

Thomas regained composure, “None, Lady
Trousley.”

“Your dear cousin is quite the belle of the
ball, why haven’t you introduced her to us before?”

Thomas caught sight of the jade dress
twirling around in the corner of his eye, “She has been in
Yorkshire, Lady Trousley, only here for the wedding.”

“Yorkshire,” Lady Trousley repeated with
ridicule, “How posh,” she wheezed, and then sailed on, “Even so,
her face seems quite familiar.”

“Yorkshire,” he repeated hoping she’d go
away.

“Her family from London?”

“No,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Suffolkshire?”

Chatty cow, Thomas thought, shaking his head
at her obvious nosiness. He had better shut her down and fast. “If
her presence seems familiar, love, it is because I was unsuccessful
in keeping our relationship unnoticeable.” He then bestowed one of
his deadly grins and gave her a playful wink. “Very hush-hush Lady
Trousley and I do hope I can count on you to be discreet about such
matters.”

Lady Trousley began fanning herself from
Thomas’ rascally behavior. Her intuition had been correct and after
having tea with Madame LeFleur that afternoon, her assumption about
his acquaintance with his so-called cousin had been right on marks.
Gwendolyn Hollinger was no more than the Duke’s mistress? First to
marry his communal mistress, now to parade one around? Shame on him
for displaying her more or less common and inviting her to his own
engagement party! Allowing her to present herself as a relative?
Absurd! Indecent, if you ask her—why the man had no morals; and
equally wicked—did she not just bump into another one of the Duke’s
mistresses at the dessert cart? “Scandalous,” she let go, fanning
herself to a degree of blowing herself over.

Thomas excused himself and headed towards the
conservatory once more. Tried to recollect what just happened.
Scandalous, shocking, wicked? Something inside of him popped,
ruptured and oozed. He was being attacked from all sides because of
it; this war of emotions inside his heart. Marrying Katrina felt
incredibly wrong all of a sudden. Wrong, improper and
inappropriate…An unhealthy, horrible decision! He still cared for
Gwendolyn, he realized conceding. The problem now was how to break
a bloody pledge. He had never broken a promise his entire life! But
he would fracture one now without hesitation if Gwendolyn divulged
mutual attachment. Rip it, stomp it, kick it away if she would
reveal her true feelings. He had not been intimate with Katrina
since setting eyes on Gwendolyn. It was that auburn enchantress who
held his sole desire now and he felt nothing less but
suffocation.

Finding his legs halting atop a hill, just
above the ballroom, Thomas soaked in the captivating violins that
echoed up the embankment. Nearby crickets added to the romantic
music as he transfixed on the waltzing couples. My engagement
party, he thought dejectedly, watching the wondrous dance. He then
focused on Gwendolyn dancing with Devin. Where would they be if
they had survived that horrible day? If they were still together,
would they have been devoted? Would they have been content? A
blissful family…with Mary now…and more on the way. Oh God, he
thought, while buckling to his knees. I am still in love with her,
he realized…in love with his best friend…in love with his wife.

Devin escorted Gwendolyn to a corner in
between their dances. She had not danced in such a long time and
she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it. Devin was a wonderful
partner and she felt at ease with him the more time they spent
together. Special friends, indeed; it was odd to feel so composed
with a man so quickly, but that’s just how it was,
instantaneous…yet weird. Devin excused himself for a moment to
fetch them something to drink when Gwendolyn felt the analysis of
several eyes. Numerous guests stood around her whispering and
commenting amongst themselves, no doubt mentioning to one another
that she was Thomas’ cousin. Cousin? Huh! If they only knew the
truth.

There was one individual, a woman in
particular, who was standing just a few feet away that seemed to
give Gwendolyn one intense inspection. In her forties, she
presumed, but still quite striking decorated in a black and red
evening gown with ostrich feathers jotting out from within her
elegant headpiece. She was standing with a younger gentlemen, no
doubt her son…or maybe her escort, as Gwendolyn quickly noted the
man’s vulgar closeness as he whispered sweet nothing’s into the
woman’s ear.