Improperly Wed (12 page)

Still, annoyed as she was with Colin, she couldn't help comparing the two men as they stood side by side. Tod seemed somehow diminished in Colin's presence. He was not quite as broad, but there was also a subtle distinction in bearing. Colin exuded power.

Of course, the physical differences were only part of the story. Tod had given in to familial pressure by heading to the altar with her. In contrast, Colin had eloped with her in Las Vegas, driven by passion and acting in careless defiance of what his family might have thought.

Tod turned toward her. “Would you like to dance?”

“Her next dance is taken.” Colin spoke before she could.

Belinda felt her annoyance kick up a notch. Before she could say something, however, Colin and Tod faced off.

Tod raised his eyebrows. “The dance after that, then.”

“It is taken, as well.”

“Belinda can speak for herself.”

“There's no need when I've already answered you.”

Belinda looked from Colin's set expression—he looked practically menacing—to Tod's clenched jaw. They seemed as if they were moments away from coming to blows. What's more, they were attracting curious looks from nearby guests.

“First you lock her into marriage,” Tod muttered, “and now you're shuttering her away from the world?”

“In fact, Dillingham, you will notice if you look around you that Belinda is attending a social event.” Colin's tone was icy.

“So it's me that you object to?”

“And as for marriage,” Colin went on flatly, ignoring the question, “Belinda and I eloped because we couldn't keep our hands off each other.” Belinda gasped.

Colin's words were a thinly disguised insult. The implication, of course, was that she and Tod
had
been able to keep their hands off each other.

It didn't help that there was truth behind Colin's words.

Belinda could see a muscle flex in Tod's jaw, and Colin's hand had clenched at his side.

She quickly stepped between the two men.

“This is outrageous,” she announced. “Stop this minute, both of you.”

Because she'd had enough, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

As Belinda made her way through the crowd, trying not to draw attention to her hot face, she fumed about the imbecility of men.

To think that she'd befriended some of the extended Granville clan this evening. She'd even started believing that Colin might be more than an overbearing, conniving Granville.

Of course, Belinda thought, the only thing that people would remember now was Tod and Colin's tense standoff. The exchange had stopped short of being a full-blown scene, but she'd seen the looks on the faces of some nearby guests.

She'd agreed to remain married to Colin, but he didn't have a license to embarrass her—them—on his path to vanquish the Wentworths.

 

Belinda managed to avoid Colin—and Tod—for the rest of the party by making conversation with one fellow guest
after another. As was customary at these formal functions, she and Colin, as husband and wife, were not seated next to each other at dinner. And neither, thank the fates, was she seated near Tod.

When it was time to depart, she and Colin had reunited for only the most desultory conversation. They rode home in silence in their chauffeured car.

And when they arrived back at Halstead Hall, she sprinted lightly up the stairs to her suite while Colin stopped to speak with the butler.

Finally closeted in her rooms, Belinda felt her nerves ease for the first time in hours. She sat down at her vanity and removed her jewelry.

She stared at her face in the mirror. The woman who looked back at her was composed, belying the roil of emotions inside her. Her makeup was still in place, her hazel eyes luminous but wide—as if she was still trying to process tonight's drama.

At any moment, she expected to hear Colin's tread in the hallway as he made his way to his own suite, but she heard nothing.

Belinda pressed her lips together. The longer that Colin remained downstairs, the more her anger grew.

How dare he?

After debating for several minutes what to do, she rose and turned and made her way out of her suite and downstairs.

When she reached the lower level, she could hear movement from the library, but otherwise the house was quiet.

She walked into the library, and Colin looked up.

He had a decanter in one hand and a glass in the other. His tuxedo tie hung loose around his neck. Despite looking
uncharacteristically careworn, however, he was still devastatingly attractive.

“Drink?” he offered.

She shook her head.

“As you wish,” he said, returning to the task of pouring himself one.

His abruptness was startling. It was unlike Colin to be anything but effortlessly well-mannered, even when he was vanquishing an opponent.

“You were an absolute boar to Tod.”

“Was I?” Colin returned. “I suppose you mean the animal and not that I bored him to death, however appealing the thought might be.”

Belinda pressed her lips together.

Colin turned back toward her and took a sip of his drink. “Were you also afraid I'd gore him?”

“Only with your rancid wit.”

“Ouch.” Colin shook his head. “And what about the way you wound me, my dear wife?” Belinda blinked.

“I'm a servant who awaits your next word and hangs on your every glance.”

“That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.”

Colin quirked a brow. “Is it?”

He set down his glass and come toward her.

Belinda forced herself to stand her ground. “Our agreement does not give you license to be rude to Tod.”

“Doesn't it?” Colin asked. “And what about the fact that you almost wed him while you were still married to me?”

“I didn't know that we were still married.”

“But now you do.”

He was talking circles around her, and she tried to formulate a response that would expose his illogic. Just
because she knew now what she didn't know then, she wasn't at fault, was she?

Colin appeared to anticipate her argument as he came to a stop before her. “It happened without your knowing, but now we must all be cognizant of the fact that it did happen, and also that you remain married to me.”

Colin was jealous.
And it rendered him surprisingly vulnerable.

The realization flashed through Belinda's mind unbidden and unwanted. To stay mad at Colin, she didn't need a surprising insight into his perspective.

He touched her upper arm and a shot of sensation went through her. She knew Colin had noticed the reaction in her, too.

“It's always there between us, isn't it?” he murmured.

It was hard to argue with the truth.

He gave a self-derisive chuckle. “Definitely inconvenient at times.”

“Like right now.”

He shook his head. “I need to kiss you.”

Colin claimed her lips before she could react.

Her moan remained stuck in her throat. Instead, she found herself wrapping herself around him even as his arms bound her to him.

They kissed frantically, kindred souls finding each other and trying to meld. Sexual union was only part of it.

Colin divested her of her gown and she kicked off her shoes.

“I wanted to wring Dillingham's pretty little neck when he wanted to dance with my nearly naked wife.”

“I know.” And she did—now. Oh, she still had the lingering remnants of anger, but she was more understanding.

They frantically worked at removing Colin's tie and then he shrugged out of his jacket and shirt.

She moved her fingertips over the smooth planes of his chest and then down to the hair above his groin.

He undid his belt and shed his trousers and shoes.

They were both nearly without clothes now.

He was fully aroused, his erection pushing against his briefs.

She caressed him through the fabric, letting her hand wander and explore.

“Yes, touch me,” he said harshly.

She slid the briefs off of him and then kneeled and slowly caressed him with her lips.

“Belinda, sweet—”

She savored her effect on him until Colin pulled her up and tugged off her panties. They lowered to the sofa.

Belinda felt Colin's delicious weight press her back against the pillows. She wrapped her legs around him.

She thought dimly that Colin's library was fast becoming their favorite place. They really couldn't be bothered with a trek to bed most of the time.

Colin kissed along her jaw and down the side of her neck. His hand stroked up and down her thigh and then cupped her breast.

Their breathing deepened and mingled as Belinda's world shrank to the two of them and their need for each other.

Colin stopped only to reach for protection and then gathered her to him.

“You know,” he teased, his voice rough with passion, “before you, I never considered the library to be a sexy place.”

She batted her lashes. “Do you want me to play the role of the sexy librarian?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Why not? You've already been my Las Vegas seductress.”

“Your lucky charm and arm candy at the gaming tables?”

“Come here.”

Colin claimed her in a blaze of passion that matched her own. And Belinda's last thought was that if she couldn't resist him now, she could never resist him.

She shut off her mind before she could follow that thought to its logical conclusion…

A
s Colin rode his polo horse across the field, holding his mallet at the ready, Belinda fanned herself with her event program.

April was the beginning of polo season, and the weather was mild.

But the sight of Colin exerting himself, his legs encased in form-fitting riding breeches as he rode to and fro to help his team best their opponents, was having an odd effect on Belinda's body temperature.

They were on polo grounds near Halstead Hall for an event to raise money for a local children's hospital. Even though the sporting event was for a good cause, the players on the field played ferociously.

Competitiveness was part of Colin's nature, Belinda realized. Moreover, he was born and bred to win.

A week had passed since Belinda's path had unexpectedly crossed with Tod's and had set her and Colin into an emotionally and sexually charged confrontation.

The power balance between them had been altered. Colin's reaction that night a week ago had been so stark—almost pained—that it had pierced her heart. He was under her spell as much as she was under his. They were two bodies circling around each other in an intimate dance.

Since then, she was cognizant of the fact that he was a Granville, that they had a postnup and that he held Wentworth property in the palm of his hand. But she was also aware of her power—and of the fact that the relationship really came down to the two of them.

They had, in the past week, been unable to keep their hands off each other. She had lost track of where and when they had been intimate. Certainly they had been at night in his bedroom, which she had essentially moved into, but also in the library, in the sitting room and—she flushed at the recollection—even in the stables after they had gone horseback riding.

Colin was filling her mind as well as possessing her body. She was losing sight of the reason she was staying married to him—to get the Wentworth property back.

Her cell phone buzzed, and Belinda retrieved it from her handbag to realize that she had missed a call from Uncle Hugh because she had had her ringer turned off. She quickly listened to the phone message and its summons to Downlands.

She frowned. Uncle Hugh didn't sound in ill health, but he hadn't given a precise reason for his call, either. She wondered what was going on.

She sighed, pushing aside an uneasy feeling. There was no way around it. She would have to go see him and find out what the issue was. Fortunately, it was a short trip from Halstead Hall to Downlands.

She looked up and saw Colin walking off the polo field toward her. The skin at the open collar of his shirt glistened
with perspiration, and there were damp patches on his clothes. She knew he would smell all male, and her body began to hum in response.

He stopped, leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.

When he straightened, he smiled. “We won.”

“Did you? I didn't notice.”

His smile widened. “We'll have to work on your appreciation for the sport of kings.”

“Why?” she asked innocently, looking at him through her lashes. “Would you rather I didn't focus on you instead?”

“Well, in that case, I can hardly argue.”

He bent down and kissed her again.

Belinda's mind swam as she was quickly surrounded by his scent, his touch and his taste. He was quickly becoming addictive.

“We're in public,” she managed when he drew back.

“To the victor go the spoils, as they say.” He looked wicked. “Can I interest you in a trip to the stables?”

She tried and failed to look prim. “We've already been there.”

“Go with what works.”

She felt herself flush. “I really can't at the moment. I received a rather cryptic message from Uncle Hugh, and I need to check on him at Downlands and make sure nothing is seriously amiss.”

“I'll wait for you at Halstead Hall, then.”

There was promise in his words.

 

When Belinda arrived at Downlands, she found Uncle Hugh pacing in the library.

She'd had so many happy moments in this house while growing up. Downlands was smaller and less impressive
than Halstead Hall, but it boasted light and airy rooms, courtesy of an Elizabethan frame that had been added, and lovely gardens. It was hard to believe the place had been sold.

“What is the matter?” Belinda asked.

Uncle Hugh turned toward her, looking agitated.

When her uncle didn't immediately answer, she truly began to worry. “Unless it's life or death, I'm sure—”

“Your husband bought and sold the Elmer Street property.”

“What?” Belinda tried and failed to wrap her mind around what her uncle had just said. “Bought and sold? When and how?”

She hadn't even known the Elmer Street property had been on the market. It was a four-story residential building in Covent Garden that was rented out. The rentals had probably made it a more difficult property to sell.

Uncle Hugh rubbed his hands together. “I sold it to a company called Halbridge Properties. I just discovered the firm is another front for your husband, and he, the bounder, has promptly turned around and tried to sell the Elmer Street address to someone else.”

Belinda felt her heart plummet. “You sold another Wentworth property?”

She felt betrayed—by all sides. Hadn't she put herself on the line trying to get back ownership to property that her uncle had already unwittingly sold to Colin? How could her uncle do this to her?

She spoke the last thought aloud. “How could you sell another property?”

“Belinda, please. You have no idea how dire our finances are.”

“Apparently not.”

Uncle Hugh continued to look distressed.

“And to be taken by Colin, again.”

At this, her uncle flushed.

In Uncle Hugh's defense, Belinda had to admit that her uncle was probably not the only one to have been roundly bested by Colin. She'd seen firsthand what a good gambler Colin was. And his skill extended to real estate. He was London's most famous landowning marquess.

He was also the man who'd made tender and passionate love to her.

All along, however, he'd been intent on buying and selling yet another Wentworth parcel.

She felt betrayed and, worse, sullied.

“How is your relationship with Easterbridge?” her uncle asked suddenly. “You had no idea about Halbridge Properties and its recent purchase?”

This time, it was her turn to feel uncomfortable. She thought about Colin making sweet love to her. She'd thought they were growing closer, she'd thought that…

Never mind.
It was clear that all the while, Colin was keeping her in the dark about his machinations with respect to the Wentworths.

Uncle Hugh tilted his head, his expression betraying a mixture of desperation and cunning. “There's always room for negotiation between a husband and wife. You worked your magic on Easterbridge before, perhaps…”

Uncle Hugh let the sentence trail off, but Belinda nevertheless understood his meaning. He had hopes that she could seduce back the Elmer Street property from Colin, too.

If she needed any further evidence, her uncle's implication highlighted how much her marriage to Colin was viewed simply as a means to an end by her family.
She
was merely a tool.

Belinda wanted to say that the way she was feeling right
now, the Berkshires would turn into the Sahara before she'd sleep with Colin again.

She swung toward the door. Yet again, she thought grimly, she was destined for a confrontation with Colin.

 

Colin turned toward the door of his home office at Halstead Hall.

When he saw Belinda, a swell of pleasure coursed through him. She was still dressed in the attire she'd had on at the polo field earlier—knee-high black boots and a tweed dress cinched by a thin belt. He couldn't wait to undress her.

He'd just had time to shower and put on some clean clothes, but he'd be happy to strip down again for her if it meant getting her into bed—or for that matter, even without a bed.

In fact, he was tempted to lock his office door right now…

He cut the distance between them.

“How could you?” Belinda demanded.

In the process of bending to kiss her, Colin pulled back and arched a brow. “How could I what?”

“You bought, and then promptly turned around and sold, the Elmer Street property without anyone being the wiser.”

He stilled. She'd caught him off guard. He'd meant to tell her and explain why his actions made sense, but now he had to improvise.

“How did you find out?” he asked without inflection.

“Uncle Hugh informed me.”

“Fine chap, Uncle Hugh.”

Belinda continued to frown at him. “A business associate of his discovered the truth. He investigated
Halbridge Properties and told Uncle Hugh who the true owner was.”

“Of course,” Colin said drily. “Why am I not surprised Uncle Hugh has been keeping his ear to the ground? Or should I say, more accurately, has friends doing it for him?”

“Yes, well, at least he has the Wentworth family interests at heart!”

“Does he?” Colin countered. “He sold the property in the first place. And in this case, I agree with him. The Elmer Street property is not in good shape. It needed to be sold, and the proceeds need to be used to upgrade the other Wentworth properties.”

If possible, Belinda looked more irate. “So you admit that you intended to sell as soon as you bought the property?”

He said nothing, and she read her own meaning into his silence.

“Does everything with you come down to a decision based on numbers?” she asked. “What about emotion and sentiment? I can't believe you are the same person who eloped with me in Vegas.”

Colin tightened his jaw. “What makes you think marrying you wasn't my biggest gamble?”

“So that's what it was to you?” she countered. “Another calculation of risk and potential payoff?”

He thought he was doing her—and the Wentworths—a good turn by bringing some sanity to their financial chaos. Of course, he'd anticipated that Belinda's initial reaction might be negative, so he'd been looking for the right moment to explain. But now she'd discovered matters for herself in the worst way possible, and she showed no signs of being able to see his side.

“I said it was a gamble, not that emotion didn't enter
into it,” he responded. “The Elmer Street property is of sentimental value to you? You never even lived there.”

She tilted up her chin. “It's been in the Wentworth family for two generations.”

“And that line of thinking demonstrates precisely why the Wentworths found themselves in a financial fix.”

“I'm a Wentworth.” She placed her hands on her hips. “We had an agreement. You promised not to sell Wentworth property.”

“I promised to sign over to you the Wentworth property that I owned. The Elmer Street property is one that I subsequently bought.”

Belinda fumed. “No wonder Uncle Hugh didn't suspect you were the buyer. He thought you were bound by our postnuptial agreement.”

“I am bound by it, and I haven't broken it.”

“You still violated the spirit, if not the letter, of our agreement. We agreed to stay married partly to keep Wentworth property together.”

“And it will. The proceeds from the sale of the Elmer Street address will be well-spent on upgrades to the other Wentworth properties.”

“What guarantee do I have that you'll actually use the money to renovate the other properties? After all, you sold the Elmer Street house without informing me.”

Colin felt his annoyance spike. All he was trying to do was help her loony relatives out of their financial quicksand. “I didn't promise a day-to-day update on the management of the properties.”

“There is nothing to say, then, is there?” she countered.

Belinda turned on her heel and walked toward the door.

 

Belinda watched Uncle Hugh frown.

“There are rumors and gossip in the press that you left
Colin,” Uncle Hugh said, grasping the arms of his chair, “and they depict you in an unflattering light, I'm afraid.”

Her mother, sitting gingerly to Uncle Hugh's right, nodded in agreement.

Frankly, Belinda didn't give a fig about rumors. She was more miserable than she could ever remember being, including when she'd bolted from a certain Vegas hotel room.

They were in the parlor of Uncle Hugh's Mayfair town house—or rather, her husband's Mayfair house. It was all such a tangle.

After leaving Halstead Hall yesterday, she had spent the night at Tamara and Sawyer's empty London flat. Tamara hadn't hesitated to lend her the apartment as a place to stay, particularly since she, Sawyer and the baby were back at the family seat in Gloucestershire.

Her friend had been a bit curious about the reasons behind Belinda's unexpected phone call, but the emotions had been too raw for Belinda to talk about them.

She was fortunate, Belinda thought, that no one had been witness to her sleepless, teary night. She'd tossed and turned to no avail, and the tears had continued to seep from under her lids.

By dawn, she had been unable to escape the truth.

She loved Colin's intelligence, his humor, and, yes, his sexual skill. They had common interests, but more importantly, they complemented each other in personality. He made her feel more alive.

She had fallen in love with Colin.

It was why his betrayal was like a dagger to the heart.

But obviously, she was nothing more than a conquest to him. If he cared for her, he wouldn't have been so cavalier about his disposal of the Elmer Street property.

Uncle Hugh drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair.

He had come down to London from Downlands earlier in the day. Upon learning that Belinda was in town, too, he had suggested that she take tea with him and her mother.