Julie Garwood (17 page)

He looked at Caroline then and said, “When we are outside, you will tell me the name of the man who did this and then I will—”

“Do you believe that I met a man upstairs?” It suddenly began to make sense and Caroline’s eyes widened. “Does he believe that I met someone upstairs and that we—” Bradford started moving down the stairs at a quick pace and Caroline grabbed hold of his shoulders. “Bradford,” she said as she tried to turn his cheek toward her, “I fell down the steps.” She was immediately angry with herself for giving him an explanation. “Of course, that was after my secret liaison. The man was really quite incredible … and quick,” Caroline snapped out. She heard Milford laugh behind her but ignored him and continued to goad Bradford. “He had the most bizarre ideas too. Why, he insisted upon tearing the bottom of my gown and attacking my feet. Such an unusual way of showing affection, don’t you agree?”

“Will you lower your voice?” Bradford demanded.
His own voice had lost its edge and the harshness faded from his features. “You’re starting to sound like the Claymere girl.”

They had moved to the front door and Milford hurried to see it opened and closed it behind the three of them. He would give Braxton Brad’s message, but not before he saw them off. He didn’t want to miss anything. He had a feeling about these two and wanted to see if he was right.

“You could have injured yourself,” Bradford muttered into the top of Caroline’s hair. His jaw brushed against her, and Milford found himself gloating with satisfaction. He was rarely wrong in his feelings and wondered when Bradford would recognize what was happening to him.

Bradford heard Milford chuckling and turned to glare at him. “She could have killed herself, man.”

“I did injure myself,” Caroline interjected, wanting some comfort. “I hit my elbow and fell on my—”

“What happened, love? Do you wear spectacles like Charity?” he asked. His voice was filled with tenderness and compassion, and that served to be Caroline’s undoing.

“It was terrible,” she confessed, thinking she sounded quite pitiful. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about how frightened she had been, and then she realized that he had called her by an endearment. “And I have not given you permission to call me love.”

Bradford’s carriage arrived and Milford hastened to open the door. “Watch her head, Brad,” he warned just seconds before Caroline ducked. She had to rest her cheek against Bradford’s shoulder and liked the sensation immensely. His spicy aroma was quite pleasant, she thought with a little smile.

He settled her on his lap, called a reminder to Milford to explain to her father, and then leaned back, content to hold her next to him. He inhaled her special
fragrance and heard himself exhale with satisfaction. It felt so right holding her like this. The only problem was that he was fast becoming unsatisfied. Holding her was fine, but Bradford wanted more, much more.

The carriage started moving and Caroline reluctantly sat up. Bradford watched her, his expression hiding nothing, and Caroline started trembling again.

“I don’t think it is proper for you to look at me like that,” Caroline whispered. Her face was just inches from his, yet she couldn’t draw back any farther. Nor did she want to, she admitted to herself, even as she clutched the lapels of his jacket closer to her chest.

“I’ve never been known to be proper,” Bradford answered. His voice sounded coated with honey. “And that is one of your requirements for a suitor, isn’t it?”

“You’re not nice either,” Caroline commented, trying to break the spell he was weaving.

“And why have you come to that conclusion?” Bradford asked, raising one eyebrow with curiosity.

“Because you believed that I had done something improper,” Caroline answered. “Don’t look so innocent, Bradford!” she continued when he gave her one of his silly grins.

“Only for a moment, and I did not think you had behaved improperly,” he explained. He brushed her hair back over her shoulder in a gentle gesture. “I believed someone else had taken advantage,” he went on.

Caroline shook her head. “Do you always think the worst of people?” she asked, frowning. “That isn’t very nice either.”

Bradford gave a mock sigh. “Is there anything that you find appealing about me?” he asked. His fingertip stroked a long line down the side of her face. Caroline felt goosebumps cover her arms and tried to push his hand away.

She wanted, more than anything else in the world, for Bradford to kiss her. “I like the way that you kiss
me,” she whispered. “Is that terribly improper for me to admit?” she asked.

Bradford didn’t answer. Instead, he cupped the sides of her face and drew her toward him. His mouth touched hers in a feathery caress that brought a sigh of contentment.

Caroline parted her lips and pressed herself against Bradford, loving the feel of his hard body, reveling in the differences between them. It was all the encouragement he needed. One hand moved to the back of her neck and the other fell to grip her waist. He opened his mouth over hers and the kiss immediately changed in intensity. Bradford was no longer tender but demanding as he took what she had so willingly, so innocently offered.

Caroline’s heart began to pound and she found she couldn’t quite catch her breath. He was draining her of all reason, all sense of caution. Her tongue stroked his while her fingers explored the soft texture of his hair. She felt overwhelmed by his touch, his scent. She didn’t want the kiss to end, moaning a soft protest when Bradford tore his mouth from hers.

He took a deep breath, hoping the action would cool his growing need. It was all futile thinking on his part. She felt so soft, so incredibly good against him. He decided to act the role of a true gentleman, place her on the seat across from him, and guard her innocence as any decent nobleman would, but then he looked into her eyes. Her gaze held a slumberous look, as if she had just been awakened to the physical pleasures shared between a man and a woman.

Bradford was compelled to kiss her again, telling himself that it would be the very last that they shared this night, and knew when his tongue met hers, when the hot excitement exploded into raw passion between them, that he couldn’t stop. His fingers brushed a trail down the smooth column of her slender neck, hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and then continued until he
reached the soft fullness of her breasts. And all thoughts of playing the gentleman vanished.

Caroline tried to protest this new intimacy as she fought the sensations. Bradford’s mouth had moved to the side of her neck, and his breath was warm and sensual against her ear as his tongue caused such blissful havoc.

His mouth found her breasts and Caroline was powerless to stop him. She felt like she was floating in his arms, so safe and secure, and let the flood of emotions claim her attention. She was so innocent and each touch, each kiss, opened a new world of feeling. She instinctively trusted Bradford to know when to stop. He was leading the way into this erotic world and she believed that he would know when it was time to call a halt. He was the experienced one.

“Caroline, you feel so good,” Bradford whispered, his voice harsh now with need. “So soft. You were made for loving.” His tongue was circling the nipple of one breast while his hand gently caressed the other. Caroline twisted in his arms, trying to avoid the sweet torture, yet clung to his shoulders and silently begged for more. Bradford held her still and finally took the straining nipple into his mouth. When he began to suck, and his tongue began to stroke the sensitive skin, Caroline thought that she would go out of her mind.

A burning knot of frustration was growing inside Caroline. She began to ache with a need she couldn’t define, couldn’t understand. It frightened her, this sensual torture he caused, and she began to truly struggle. “Bradford, no! We must stop now.”

He silenced her protest with a long, hot kiss and shifted her so that she was aware of his hardness against her. Caroline became more alarmed, realizing that Bradford didn’t have any immediate plan to stop his tender assault. “I want you, Caroline, as I have never wanted another woman.”

Her skirt was being lifted and his hand caressed her thigh. Caroline felt like she was being branded, so hot was his touch, his demand. She jerked away from him. Her breathing was as ragged as his, though anger had replaced passion.

“You were supposed to stop before it went this far,” she whispered.

It took a moment for Caroline’s statement to filter through Bradford’s haze of passion. By the time he felt in some semblance of control again, Caroline had moved to the seat across from him, once again clutching his jacket over her torn gown.

Caroline was suddenly terribly embarrassed. She trembled and the knot inside her wouldn’t go away. She realized that she really wanted Bradford and that absolutely horrified her. She belonged in a tavern, she told herself. She was cold now, cold from the shame penetrating, and as humiliating as it was, she began to cry. Lord, she hadn’t cried in years, and damnation, it was all
his
fault. He was the experienced one and should have known what he was about!

Bradford saw the tears stream down Caroline’s cheeks but was in no mood to offer comfort. He was in acute pain and it was all her fault. Didn’t she realize her appeal? Didn’t she know the temptation she flaunted? What kind of people raised her? he asked himself with building fury. Hadn’t anyone taken the time to educate her in the boundaries of flirting? She had reacted with such ardor, and Bradford thought that her need for completion matched his. He sincerely hoped that it did, he thought with anger. God, he hoped she was hurting every bit as much as he was.

Caroline glared at Bradford while she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the edge of his jacket, hoping he would dare to criticize her for it so that she could lash out at him. She smoothed her gown and moved and then let out a moan. Her backside was tender and most
probably black and blue from the fall on the steps, and a part of her thought it peculiar that it hadn’t hurt much at all when Bradford was kissing her.

The carriage hit a pothole on one of the side streets that led to her father’s townhouse and Caroline gritted her teeth when her bottom was smacked anew. She didn’t think she could stand up if her life depended upon it.

“What the hell are you groaning about?” Bradford all but yelled the question. He stretched his legs out as far as the carriage would allow, taking the torn hem of Caroline’s gown with him.

“I am in pain,” Caroline snapped out.

“Good,” Bradford replied. His voice was curt but he was no longer yelling. Caroline was sorry for it, as she was aching now for a fight. “I am in pain too.”

“And why are you in pain?” Caroline asked.

“Are you serious? I am in pain because you have made me want you. Are you really such an innocent?” His voice had increased in volume and he leaned forward, his hands on his knees, glaring at her.

“I was an innocent until you took advantage of me. I believed that you were a gentleman and that you would stop before taking such … liberties! A gentleman!” Caroline’s voice was laced with shame. “You want me! ha! Just what did you have in mind, Bradford?” Now she was the one yelling and thought that she was probably acting like a child. She didn’t care in the least, as the anger was removing the knot in her stomach and her legs had stopped trembling.

“You place too much value on yourself,” Bradford answered. “I doubt that you could hold my interest for long. One night would be sufficient to get you out of my blood.”

His words hurt Caroline but she would die before letting him know that. “Just what are your intentions?” she asked. Her voice was low and determined. “To
have me and then move on to another? I actually trusted you! I have been a fool.”

Bradford saw the pain in Caroline’s gaze and his anger evaporated. He was the cause of her distress. He had acted like a rake and, for the first time in his life, felt guilty over it. “I was acting like a gentleman until you intoxicated me, Caroline.” Bradford muttered the words of apology, hoping that she would realize that he was telling her he was sorry. That was all he was willing to give her. In his mind, it was more than enough.

“Are you saying that I am the one at fault?” She sounded incredulous.

“Caroline, quit acting like I have just taken your virginity,” Bradford snapped out. “I spoke in the heat of passion.”

“So I am not to listen to what you say?” Caroline asked, frowning. “I am not to trust you?”

“Trust has no place between a man and a woman,” Bradford dictated. His voice was harsh again.

“You can’t love someone without trust,” Caroline argued. All anger was gone now but his comments confused her.

He didn’t answer her remark and Caroline realized that he really believed what he said. A feeling of sadness invaded her. “I could never marry a man who didn’t trust me.”

“And did I offer marriage?” Bradford asked.

“You did not,” Caroline replied. “I see no reason for this attraction to continue, Bradford. I want what you aren’t able to give,” she continued. “Since we have just agreed that there is no future for us, I believe it best to say good-bye.”

“Fine,” Bradford remarked, mimicking her. He realized, even as he muttered the agreement, that he had no intention of letting her go. God, but she confused him! “You want a fool,” Bradford commented.

Caroline didn’t answer. The carriage drew to a halt in front of her home and she tried to get the door opened
before Bradford moved. His feet were tangled in her hem and the gown ripped more.

Bradford removed himself from the carriage and then lifted Caroline into his arms. She didn’t resist him but her face mirrored her discomfort. “You’re going to be stiff tomorrow,” Bradford commented.

Caroline considered telling him that she might have been pushed but immediately canceled that notion. She was beginning to believe that she had only imagined the noise behind her. She was exhausted from the long day, and she didn’t want to spar with Bradford over the grim possibility that someone actually wanted to harm her.

Deighton opened the door to Bradford’s mutterings. For the man’s advanced age, he proved to be light on his feet. He removed himself from the entrance just as Bradford rushed in with Caroline holding on for dear life.