The Rock (47 page)

He crossed into the room, putting the sword down on the table before turning to look at her. “And why should it make any difference what I want?”

“That isn’t what I meant—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Go ahead, say what you have to say, and then leave. I have work to do and people are waiting for me.”

Elizabeth felt a flash of temper, but reminded herself that he had every cause to be disagreeable. She’d wronged him. Horribly. But his impatient and indifferent attitude was definitely grating.

“I’m sorry. I made a mistake, Thom. I never should have agreed to marry Randolph.”

“So you’ve said. Why should that make any difference to me?”

Nothing could prevent her temper from flaring at that one. She pressed her lips together, praying for patience. “Because you love me.”

“I did. More than anything in the world.”

Her heart sank like a stone. Fear gripped her. He still did.
Don’t believe him
. She remembered what Lady Helen had said about Magnus telling her he no longer loved her—because he was stubborn. “And I love you,” she whispered.

“Not enough apparently.”

She took the barb, which although warranted still stung. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Enough to break the engagement with Randolph.”

The first crack in his steely shield appeared; she’d surprised him. But then his eyes narrowed. “When did you do that? I was just with your betrothed. He gave no hint that the engagement had ended.”

She flushed. “I tried to tell him earlier, but he had to leave. I wrote him a note, though, that my cousin will give him, and sent one to Jamie as well.”

“I’m no expert at betrothal agreements, but I believe it takes a little more than a couple of notes to break one.”

Condescension
and
sarcasm were definitely not her favorite combination. She glared at him, snapping, “I know that.”

Thom merely shrugged. “I still don’t understand why any of this should matter to me.”

She was fuming and her hands were on her hips. “Because I want to marry
you
. Although right now, I’m trying to remember why.”

Her flash of temper did nothing more than elicit a cocked brow from him. “I believe you already refused my proposal, and I don’t recall issuing another one.”

If he was trying to embarrass her and make her feel foolish, it was working. She looked up at him pleadingly. “I was scared and confused, Thom. Can you not try to understand?”

“I do understand. What I don’t understand is what has changed.” He paused, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. “Of course I do. My situation has improved enough for you, is that it? Now that I’ve achieved some renown, that I’m to be knighted and presented with land, I am worth taking a risk on?”

“None of that had anything to do with it.”

“So the timing of your ‘grand epiphany’ is just a coincidence?”

She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d question her motives, but it stung. “I knew I’d made a mistake the moment I stood next to Randolph to say those vows, but it wasn’t until I learned what you were going to do, and that your life was in danger, that I knew I would do whatever I had to do—no matter what the cost or how unpleasant—to extricate myself from it.” Seeing he wasn’t convinced, she added, “If you don’t believe me, ask Joanna. Ask Lady Helen. Ask my cousin. They’ll tell you. I tried to tell you myself, but you wouldn’t listen.” She took a deep breath that was almost a sob. “God, I could have lost you, Thommy. I was so scared. How could you have put yourself in danger like that?”

The tears in her eyes and obvious despair seemed to mean nothing to him. “You lost me the moment you said those words binding you to another man. Whether you regretted it before or after doesn’t matter.”

She took a step toward him. “You don’t mean that.”

But he did. She could see it.
He doesn’t want me, he doesn’t love me anymore
.

No, he was just being stubborn . . . wasn’t he? His feelings couldn’t change that fast. She had to find a way to get through to him. “What can I say, but I’m sorry. I made a mistake. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t think clearly. I had a plan—I thought I knew what I wanted—and when you came in and tried to change everything at the last minute, I made the wrong decision. I would do anything to take it back, but I can’t. All I can do is try to correct it and beg for your forgiveness.”

He stared at her emotionlessly. Mulishly. Not giving a blasted inch.

“Is there nothing I can do or say that will make you forgive me? Is your heart that hard? Will you allow pride and stubbornness to prevent you from taking what I’m offering?”

The hot flare of anger in his eyes was the first sign that he might not be as indifferent as he seemed. “What exactly are you offering, Elizabeth? Somehow I don’t see your brother welcoming me into the family. So are we to run off together? You can be damned sure if we do that there won’t be a knighthood or a barony—or anything else for that matter.”

Was he relenting? From his expression it was questionable, but at least he appeared to be considering it. She felt bold enough to move forward and place a tentative palm on his chest. “That doesn’t matter.”

His jaw clenched. “It does to me.”

Good gracious, the logic of male pride utterly escaped her. First he wanted her to take him with nothing, and now that he had something, he wouldn’t take her without it? She prayed for patience. “I will make Jamie understand.”

He made a sharp sound of disbelief. “How do you intend to do that?”

“By making sure it’s too late for him to do anything about it.”

It didn’t take him long to realize what she meant. “Hell, no, Elizabeth. I won’t do it. Not like that.”

She took one look at his expression and knew he meant it. At times, honor and nobility could be decidedly inconvenient.

She sighed, realizing she had no other choice. She winced a little at the thought though. Good gracious, could she really do this? Desperate times . . . desperate measures.

Removing her hand from his chest, she stood back and began to work the ties of her gown.

If her hands weren’t shaking, she would have appreciated the nervous way he was eyeing her.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

She’d never seen him look so shocked; obviously, she’d surprised him. To put it mildly. “Taking off my clothes,” she answered matter-of-factly.

“W-why?”

Sputtering was a good thing, wasn’t it? “I’d rather hoped that would be obvious, but I’m trying to seduce you. And since you said you wanted to see me standing before you naked, I thought that was a good way to start.” She paused for a moment, letting her eyes slide down to the heavy bulge between his legs. “You also said something about having my mouth on you, but I’m afraid I may require some instruction for that.”

Holy hell
. Whatever else Thom had been about to say flew out of his mind. It was replaced by an image of Lady Elizabeth Douglas on her knees before him—naked—pleasuring him with her mouth. The surge of lust was so hot and heavy, the yearning so intense, it was a hard image to dislodge.

But he did so. Forcibly. And maybe with a little bit of a groan.

She heard it—damn it—and it emboldened her movements, which had been anxious and fumbling, with newfound purpose. Her surcotte dropped into a pool of velvet at her feet before he could get a hand on her wrist.

“Stop it,” he demanded angrily. “It won’t work. You aren’t going to change my mind. I don’t want you.” She looked down at the proof to the contrary, which was too damned big and hard to hide. His jaw clamped down like a vise. “Not like this.”

“You can have it your way next time.”

His teeth were literally grinding at all the images that flooded his head. “That is not what I meant, damn it.”

“I’m not going to wait for someone else’s permission, Thom. Are you going to let my brother decide your future?” He stiffened, as no doubt was her intention. She knew how much the thought of that would grate.
Don’t touch
.
Don’t reach too high. Remember your place
. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and as this seems to be the best way to guarantee it, I’m not going to let anything stand in the way. Your honor will be intact. You aren’t seducing me, I’m seducing you.”

“That doesn’t make any difference, Ella, and you bloody well know it!”

She tugged her wrist from his hold and resumed her task as if he hadn’t spoken.

He should stop her, damn it. He couldn’t let her manipulate him like this. He didn’t love her anymore. She’d hurt him for the last time. He didn’t want—

Ah, hell. Her cotte followed the surcotte to the floor, and his mouth went dry. It felt as if most of the blood in his body had drained to his feet as well.

Want was all he felt.

She bent down to remove her shoes and hose, and then she stood before him in nothing but a chemise. The thin linen left preciously little to the imagination. He could see the high pink tips of her breasts, the heavy roundness of their substantial weight, the slender curve of her waist and hips, the long length of her limbs. With a few tugs at pins in her hair, the luxuriant long blond tresses fell into sensual waves around her shoulders.

She looked like a goddess. Like a creature from his dreams. Like every sexual fantasy he’d ever had. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms, lay her back against the table, wrap her legs around his waist, and sink into her inch by inch.

He forced his hands to his sides, fighting against the urge to touch her. He was a damned fool. He wasn’t going to do this. Not again, damn it. Maybe the first time she’d rejected him he could say that she hadn’t been aware of what she was doing, but he couldn’t say the same this time.

He tore his eyes away. “Get out of here, Elizabeth. You are only shaming yourself.”

For a moment, he thought he’d convinced her. Hell, he almost convinced himself.

She was too quiet. But when he glanced back at her, she shook her head. “No. You still love me, I know you do.” She stared at him defiantly—but with enough uncertainty and embarrassment to remind him of her current vulnerability. To remind him that she was an innocent maid who was acting on instinct, not practice, and how hard this must be for her. To remind him that she was doing this for him.

“I made a mistake.”

Was she right? Was his heart so hard that he couldn’t forgive? Was it pride that was keeping him from pulling her into his arms?

No, damn it. It was the image of her standing before a room of people binding herself to another man.

The fact that she could still get to him, that she thought he could be so easily won over by a naked body and naughty proposition—and that she could make him vacillate, even for an instant—infuriated him. “Think whatever the hell you want. I don’t give a shite.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said with an impressive amount of confidence in the face of his rejection. He might have admired her tenacity if it wasn’t about to test the very limits of his restraint.

Before he could stop her—he was sure he would have—she crossed her arms, clutched the folds of linen in her fists, and pulled her chemise over her head. An instant later it landed on the floor at her feet.

E
VERYTHING SEEMED TO
stop: his heart, his lungs, movement, time. For a moment Thom forgot the anger, forgot the hurt, forgot the betrayal, forgot that he didn’t love her anymore. All he could see, all that mattered, was the beautiful woman standing before him naked. The beautiful woman who’d held his heart since childhood. The beautiful woman he never thought could be his. The beautiful woman who was now offering herself to him like the proverbial virgin to the sacrifice because she wanted  to marry him.

Christ, she was gorgeous. His fantasies hadn’t done her justice. The dimensions had all been right, but the creamy flawlessness of her skin, the berry pink of her nipples, the height and firmness of her breasts, the dark blond of the triangle between her legs . . . he’d gotten those all wrong. But the details would be etched in his mind forever. Every incredible inch of her.