TemptedByHisKiss (15 page)

“Meg,” he murmured.

She smiled and kissed him, stroking his cheeks with the backs of her fingers. “I have a secret, my lord,” she whispered. “Do you want to know what it is?”

For a second he thought about saying no, wanting to bury his aching flesh inside her and make everything else, except her, go away.

Instead, he nodded, compelled almost against his will.

“Lieutenant McCabe asked me to marry him. I am going to be his wife!”

Cade came awake with an abrupt start, flailing for a moment inside the mass of pillows scattered around the bed. A light coating of perspiration beaded his skin, a throbbing erection jutting upward from between his legs, poking out from the folds of his robe.

At the same moment, he became aware of something cold and damp lying against his thigh. Glancing down,
he found the poultice, the lumpy mass having slid off his leg onto the rumpled towel. Muttering a curse, he picked it up and dropped it into the bowl on his bedside table.

God, he thought, it had all been a dream, nothing more than a dream. As usual, he’d begun with a variation of the old familiar nightmare he’d been having since those terrible days in Portugal. As for the rest…Lord, it had all felt so real.

He ran his palm over the empty coverlet as though seeking confirmation that Meg hadn’t been there after all. But the cloth was cold, his fantasy nothing more than prurient wishful thinking. Even now he ached, wanting her. Or at least a woman, he told himself.

He’d been celibate too long, that was all, and Meg had been on his mind before he fell asleep. The dream meant nothing—no more real than her phantom declaration about marrying the lieutenant.

His gut tightened at the recollection. Ignoring it, he climbed out of the bed. Shucking off his robe, he tossed it to the foot of the mattress, then yanked back the covers. Slipping between the sheets, he willed himself to sleep. But slumber was a long while coming, even when he realized to his surprise that his thigh had stopped hurting.

A
sennight later Meg curtsied to her partner as another set came to an end, the last notes of the contra dance fading away to leave behind the rhythmic hum of human conversation.

Opening the ivory-hued fan that had been painted with pink roses to match her dress, she waved the silk-covered staves in front of her face. Even that tiny breeze came as a welcome relief, the ballroom packed with so many members of the ton that it was difficult to keep track of who was in attendance and who was not.

Moving off the dance floor, she refused her partner’s offer of a cup of punch before politely excusing herself from his company. Once he was gone, she scanned the room in search of Mallory, feeling oddly in need of a friendly, familiar face. Not that she lacked for friends and acquaintances of both sexes these days, but there was something very uplifting about Mallory.

Lady Mallory was one of those rare people blessed with a kind spirit and a happy nature. In all the weeks she had known her, Meg couldn’t recall hearing a single cross word pass the young woman’s lips. Mallory was sweet and diverting and always a pleasurable companion.

She was also Cade’s sister, and with Mallory at her side, it was unlikely that Cade would feel compelled to seek her out and act the attentive fiancé. Not that he was likely to do so at this hour of the evening anyway, she supposed, since he had departed some while ago for the card room. Nevertheless, she wasn’t in the mood to don a false smile and pretend to be promised to a man whom she was destined never to wed.

Despite her feelings on that subject, however, she was glad to see that Cade’s health was showing signs of improvement. Just this morning his mother had remarked on the hale color in his cheeks and the fact that he’d gained back a share of the much needed weight he lost after his ordeal on the Continent.

His limp remained, of course, but Meg believed he was experiencing less pain overall—and most definitely less pain than on the night she’d brought him the poultice. Although he hadn’t mentioned her remedy again, she’d been pleased to receive a visit from Knox, who sought her out to inquire about the recipe. With several specific instructions on how to properly measure and heat the concoction, she was gratified and happy to pass on her knowledge.

With Knox looking after him, though, she supposed Cade had little need of her. Though when has Cade ever had need of me? she mused. From the first moment of her arrival in his life, he’d made no effort to conceal his wish to see her gone. She knew he was only biding his
time, waiting for the day when he could dust his hands of her and return north to his estate.

Yet despite her continued efforts and a couple of likely prospects—including Lieutenant McCabe, who had called just two days ago to take her strolling in the park—she couldn’t seem to make herself put forth enough enthusiasm to actually bring any of her would-be suitors up to scratch. She liked several of them, but as for love…

She sighed. I am merely tired, she reassured herself. On the morrow, everything will seem different.

Across the room, a friend motioned for Meg to join her and a group of cronies. But Meg smiled and waved a refusal, not at all in the mood to listen to the usual round of Town gossip and talk of the latest fashions. Walking toward the ballroom’s wide, double doors, she resumed her search for Mallory.

Fifteen minutes later, as she made her way into a quiet section of the house, and still hadn’t found Mallory, she wondered if perhaps the other girl did not wish to be found. Now that she considered, she’d last seen Mallory dancing with a favorite new beau, Major Hargreaves—a dashing army officer of whom Mallory spoke often.

Meg was about to turn and retrace her steps back to the festivities when she heard a noise from inside a nearby room. Curious, she walked forward, then paused to peer into her hosts’ library. The room was shrouded in near darkness, the only illumination a mellow fire burning in the hearth. Next to the blaze stood a solitary figure—one she immediately recognized as Lord Gresham.

Having obviously heard her as well, he glanced up at her entrance. “Miss Amberley. Good evening.”

“My lord.”

“Normally, I would make all the usual polite remarks, but I must admit I am rather surprised at finding you here. What brings you into this part of the house?”

“I was about to ask the same of you,” she replied. “But it would seem you have beaten me to it.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Well, never let it be said I am so ungallant as to deny a lady first rights at satisfying her curiosity.” He swept a hand toward the rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves. “Why, I came in search of a book, of course. What else, since this is a library, after all.”

What else indeed, she mused, wondering if she might be interrupting an assignation. He didn’t look upset, however, so perhaps he had in fact come here to read. Or more likely he’d stolen off for a few moments respite from the press of the crowd. She had to confess that the shadowy, leather-scented solitude of the room was very pleasant—relaxing after the hubbub of the soiree.

“You aren’t lost, are you, Miss Amberley?”

She strolled farther into the room. “No. Actually, I was looking for someone.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? Anyone I know?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I was looking for Mallory. You haven’t…seen her, have you?”

The smile slipped from his mouth, a fierce look crossing his face and shading his eyes. “As it would happen, I have. Lady Mallory and Major Hargreaves were here only a few minutes ago. I believe they have since returned to the ballroom.”

Mallory and the major. So, Mallory has been with him.
Had Lord Gresham caught them together, here in the library? Alone? If so, Gresham didn’t look
happy about the discovery. In fact, he looked downright perturbed.

Seconds later, however, his expression cleared, leaving her to wonder if she had glimpsed the emotion on his face at all. The lighting was poor, she decided. She must have been imagining things.

“I should think,” he said in an even tone that further belied any strong feelings on his part, “that you would be wanting to return to the dancing as well.” Crossing toward her, he held out an arm. “Shall I escort you back?”

In that moment she realized that he was trying to protect her.
Is he worried for my good name?
Contrary to his own scandalous reputation, she found him to be a surprisingly chivalrous man.

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured, curving her hand over his sleeve. “I believe you are right and I ought to get back before I am missed.”

“Rather too late for that,” drawled a familiar voice.

Her gaze flew toward the imposing male figure standing in the doorway. “Cade!”

“Meg,” he said in a clipped tone, one she couldn’t remember hearing from him before.

“I thought you were playing cards.” She pulled her hand from Lord Gresham’s sleeve and lowered it to her side. Though why she did so, she couldn’t say, since the action spoke of guilt, and she had nothing whatsoever to feel guilty about.

“And I thought you were in the ballroom dancing,” Cade remarked, moving farther into the room. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered you were not.”

“No, I…um…decided I needed a respite from the crush of guests. As it happens, though, Lord Gresham
and I were just on our way back. Why do we not all return together?”

Cade planted a fist on his hip, his other hand gripped in an intimidating manner around the head of his gold-topped cane. He shot Gresham a look hot enough to scorch metal.

“I think perhaps I ought to be the one to go ahead and let the two of you return at your leisure,” Gresham said. After making a brief bow, he steered a path around Cade and walked from the room.

For a long moment the only sound was the quiet snapping of the logs in the grate as wood turned slowly to ash.

“So you’ve got Gresham in your sights again, have you?” Cade ambled nearer, closing the distance between them. “I rather thought you’d decided on the lieutenant, though I suppose he doesn’t move in the same elevated circles, does he? He isn’t here tonight, for instance.”

Her fingers curled against the folds of her skirt. “Lieutenant McCabe moves in perfectly respectable circles, and the fact that he is not in attendance this evening makes no difference to me.”

“Just testing the waters, then, are you? Why else would you have come here with Gresham?”

“I did not come here with him. He was already in the room when I arrived.”

“Was he indeed?” Cade said in a deceptively smooth voice. “And why did you wander this way if not to meet him? Surely you hadn’t made an assignation with someone else?”

She huffed out an exasperated sigh. “There was no assignation at all, and I must tell you that I resent your inference, my lord.”

“Do you? Well, considering the circumstances, it is a presumption anyone might make. The ballroom is some distance away, and you were discovered alone with a man whose reputation for seduction is well-known. Wise mothers make sure not to let their innocent daughters wander off with men like Adam Gresham.”

“And what of you? Could someone not make the same assumption at discovering us alone together, even though nothing whatsoever has occurred?”

“No. For one thing, we are engaged.”

“Oh, but we’re not.”

He took another step forward so he stood less than a foot way. “That isn’t the point. What matters is that you were alone with him where anyone could have found you. Where
I
found you.” He moved forward again.

Meg retreated a step, her path blocked as she came up against the back of the sofa. “So you’re worried about looking the cuckold, are you? Resentful of being deceived by your supposed fiancée?”

A growl rumbled low in his throat. “No, I’m worried about you getting hurt, and falling prey to rakes and scoundrels. He’s not going to marry you, you know.”

“Lord Gresham, you mean? Well, of course I know that. But then neither are you. Now, I believe I shall return to the ballroom. I’m sure I’ve promised a dance to some gentleman with whom I should make it my business to become better acquainted.”

She tried to take a sideways step around him, but his large muscled body prevented her. “Your pardon, Lord Cade,” she said, “but pray allow me to pass.”

An inscrutable expression crossed his face. “No, I don’t believe I will.”

“Excuse me?”

Setting his cane aside, he placed his hands against the sofa, imprisoning her in between. “I don’t believe I shall excuse you, either.”

Before she had time to read his intent and attempt to counter it, his mouth came down upon her own, claiming her with a kiss that literally rocked her back on her heels. For several long, shocked seconds her mind grew dull, her senses caught in an irresistible rush of pleasure.

Resting her hands on his shoulders, she curled her fingers into the warm, pliant wool of his tailored, superfine coat. Holding on, she let him take her deeper. But something about the contrast of his firm, masculine shoulders against the softness of her skin triggered an inner awareness that nudged her from her haze. Digging in her nails this time, she gave him a little push. “Enough!”

In answer, he turned his head and buried his lips against the curve of her neck, stunning her anew by doing something utterly delectable with his tongue. Suppressing a full body shiver, she willed herself to resist. “Did you hear me? I said stop.”

Leaning away, he met her gaze, his eyes the color of grass after a pounding summer rain. “Sound like you mean it and I just might.”

“Stop playing with me, Cade.”

Sliding a hand upward, he cupped the fullness of one of her breasts. After a brief pause, he gave a gentle squeeze. “Does this feel like I’m playing?”

She couldn’t control the shudder that raked her frame. With blood thundering inside her temples, she shook her head.

Gripping her hips, he lifted her off her feet and sat her
on the top edge of the sofa. Parting her legs, he stepped between, his palms sliding low to curve around her bottom. “Do you still want me to stop?”

Her toes arched inside her slippers, traitorous need simmering like a fire in her veins. “Yes,” she murmured, her refusal sounding frail and faltering even to her own ears.

He stared at her for a long, penetrating moment. “Liar.”

Tugging her flush against his body, he crushed her lips to his once more, and dragged forth a ragged moan they both knew to be her surrender. At his urging, she opened her mouth to let his tongue delve inside, accepting his possession with a mindless hunger of her own. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave herself over to the pleasure, savoring his taste and his touch.

Meg whimpered as he cradled the back of her head in his hand, angling her face so he could draw even more fully upon her. Time ground down to a slow tick as he led her in a warm, wet dance, her eyelids fluttering closed as she met and matched his every command. Quivering inside his embrace, she let him take her where he willed, his other hand fully occupied as he sent her spinning upward into further layers of delight.

Beginning with her breasts, he caressed her, bringing her nipples to taut, aching peaks as he toyed with her through the thin silk of her gown. When that wasn’t enough, he slipped his fingers inside her bodice to find bare flesh, scissoring first one nipple, then the other between the skilled movements of his thumb and forefinger.

She moaned again into his open mouth and instinctively arched against the insistent proof of his arousal,
shifting restlessly as her body was claimed by awakening needs that she had no wish to deny.

Groaning low in his throat, Cade kissed her harder, savaging her mouth with an ardor that was as dark as it was seductive. Senses spinning, she gave no thought or complaint when his hand left her breast to stroke the length of her thigh. Nor again when he gathered the material of her dress and slipped beneath her skirts. She quaked at the sensation of his bare hand against her naked skin, his palm gliding high, then higher still along her trembling limb.

His other hand lowered to the small of her back, urging her forward so her legs parted even more. Kissing her all the while, he stroked toward her center, tangling for a few brief seconds in the nest of short curls he found there before slipping a single finger between the tender folds of her femininity. Wet heat dampened his hand, a reaction he seemed to expect and enjoy, the fragrant moisture turning her slick against his touch.