A Touch of Passion (21 page)

“I’m sure there are many women who would be eager to take on that role.”

“Of course. Too much choice, actually.”

“What about a woman you love? Is there someone you are in love with, a woman totally inappropriate, and that is why you are looking for any woman to fill the role of wife?”

He didn’t even look uncomfortable when he answered. Here was a man secure in his own thoughts. “I don’t believe in love. It’s not a rational emotion. What others experience and think is love is actually a fleeting rush of weak-willed feelings brought on by lust or desire or passion. It’s the same surreal experience as if they were on opium. Love is a mind distortion that soon wears off.”

“I see.” And she did—either he had never been in love or he had been and had ended up hurt. He was shutting himself off from ever experiencing Cupid’s arrow. “Is that why you told Grayson you were prepared to save my reputation by offering for a woman like me? A woman surrounded by scandal and—”

He reached out, his large hand swallowing her tiny one. “I admire you all the more for how you have come through your ordeal with no hysterics and head held high. Besides, you’ve aptly demonstrated your intelligence and courage by capturing Weston. What better attributes could I want in a wife?”

She knew her next words would make or break her only other option than Grayson. “Purity.” At his lack of reaction she added, “I could be with child.”

“The purity is not a problem, but a child—a boy child—would be. If the child is a boy it would become my heir.”

Maitland didn’t even ask who or how. For all he knew she could have been raped by the sultan or the men who kidnapped her. He might wonder if it was Grayson’s, but he’d likely surmise she would marry Grayson if that were the case. Since he did not believe in love, Maitland would not understand her reasons for not doing so.

“I’ll know in a few days.”

He merely nodded. “I take it you would be open to my suit. May I inquire as to why?”

“Grayson doesn’t love me.”

“That’s the first ridiculous thing I have ever heard you utter. Whether he loves you or not, it makes sense to accept his offer. You are friends, he has been a part of your family for many years, they like and respect him, and society would have no cause to speculate and gossip.”

Men. They would never understand unless love smacked them in the face with a shovel. “I’m in love with him. I have been since I was sixteen years old. You might not believe in love, but I do.”

“I still don’t see the problem.”

She sighed and withdrew her hand from his. “Grayson may never come to return my love, and I would spend my life pining for something that will never be. I couldn’t imagine anything so painful. What if he found a woman, a mistress, he did love? If I marry a man I don’t love, I can never be hurt. I can continue on with my life without love, because every single day I won’t have to face the fact my love is not returned.”

“Perhaps if you gave him time—”

“I haven’t got time to wait for him to know his heart. Besides, as you pointed out, he has known me long enough to come to a decision regarding his feelings for me. If I hadn’t been kidnapped, he would not be proposing marriage. That says it all.”

“A logical deduction,” Maitland said as he sat back in his seat. He sat silently, looking out of the carriage window for a few minutes. Finally he turned to her. “May I ask you a personal question?”

She nodded, knowing what he’d ask.

“Were you raped during your abduction?”

“No.”

“Then I take it you have been intimate with Grayson.” His manner indicated that it was the only deduction he could make. “That changes things.”

“I thought it would. You won’t offer for me now, I suppose.”

“No,” he stated, “that’s not what I mean. I’m merely thinking back to my conversation with him yesterday. His manner was somewhat possessive when we discussed my suggestion of becoming an alternative prospect. In fact, he seemed very sure you would refuse me; he was even smug about it. I think Grayson is hiding his feelings. If he knew you wouldn’t marry him without love, yet he still slept with you … well, perhaps his feelings are more complicated than you imagine.” He gave her a cunning smile. “I believe we should put his feelings for you to the test.”

Could Maitland be right? If Grayson harbored any romantic feelings for her, then there was still a chance she could win his heart. She smiled back. “I like how you think, Your Grace.”

“Then let me outline a plan of attack. A robust campaign should allow you to have your answer by the time we reach London.”

Portia smiled at the idea Maitland suggested. She was going to enjoy their little game. She just hoped the outcome would be the one she wanted and needed—winning Grayson’s love.

Portia had to wait until they stopped at an inn for lunch to see if Maitland’s hunch was correct.

The pair waited in the carriage until the second carriage arrived, and only then disembarked. Maitland helped her down, bowing over her hand and placing a lingering kiss on her glove before linking arms with her and walking inside.

“If it had been colder, I suspect we would have seen steam coming out of Grayson’s ears,” Maitland whispered as he held the chair out for her. They had been shown into a private dining room. “We have several minutes before Grayson appears, as they will be seeing to Weston. They are locking him in the stables.”

Maitland left to order lunch for them all, and Portia excused herself to use the necessary and freshen up. When she returned, the other two men had arrived.

Maitland held out her chair for her, and she graced him with what she hoped was a seductive smile.

“Thank you, Maitland,” she said as she sat down.

“My pleasure, sweeting. Thank you for a most enjoyable morning. The carriage ride flew by.”

Portia didn’t look at Grayson, but she heard him move in his chair.

“I thought you’d be more interested in what Arend learned from Weston than in flirting with Lady Portia.”

Portia hid her smile at Grayson’s peeved tone.
Well, well, well …

“Of course I am,” Maitland replied to Grayson. “However, there is no reason to abandon one’s manners, especially with a beautiful woman in the room.”

She inclined her head at Maitland’s kind words and noted a tic in Grayson’s jaw.

Arend coughed into his hand before saying, “Weston has no idea who the villainess is, only who she was.”

That made Portia forget about Grayson. “I beg your pardon? He lied to me?” Her temper began to soar. “He was going to take my money!”

“Not exactly. He only knows the name she used to go by. He’ll give you the name he obtained, but that person no longer exists, and he said the trail went cold when he tried to dig deeper.”

“Well, what name is that?” she asked Arend.

“He won’t tell us her name until he has your money. I can, of course, beat it out of him, but you forbade that tactic. Personally, I think he’s full of—”

“That’s enough, Arend,” Grayson interrupted. “He admitted he didn’t have the resources to inquire further. We do. All we need is a starting point, so Portia’s plan is sound. If we try to beat it out of him, he’ll likely lie just to taunt us. You admitted knowing her name would be the lead you have been searching for.”

“Thanks to Portia, we have the chance to at last learn something of note,” Maitland said, and once again brought her hand to his lips.

Grayson pushed back his chair and rose. “We shouldn’t dally; I don’t like leaving Weston unguarded for long. Maitland, may I have a word with you outside?” He nodded to Portia as he left, and she was delighted to see he was not in a good mood.

Maitland winked at her as he followed Grayson out. Unfortunately, Arend caught sight of it. He waited for Maitland to close the door after him before turning to Portia.

“It is a dangerous game you play. Grayson and Maitland have been friends for many years. I would hate to see a woman come between them.”

There was something about Arend that set the hairs on her arms rising. He could intimidate with one look from deep within those cold, hard eyes. “I would not let that happen,” she assured him. At Arend’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Besides, this is His Grace’s idea.”

He rose until he towered over her. “I would advise you to tell Maitland to halt this charade before someone gets hurt. Grayson has demons he must face, and forcing him to acknowledge them before he’s ready may see Maitland’s good intentions come back to kick him in the arse.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And you may find yourself married to His Grace. I know that is not what you desire. Think about your actions. What will you do if Grayson calls your bluff and lets you go?”

“I know the demons he faces. He’s scared of losing those he loves. I have no intention of leaving this earth anytime soon.”

“And yet there is an assassin set on killing you and framing Grayson. If she succeeds and you die, Grayson will blame himself. He’s already full of guilt over Robert’s death and Christian’s burns. His grief over you will be much worse because of his promise to Robert. Why try to force his feelings when the future is still uncertain?” He looked away in disgust. “It’s selfish, and Maitland should know better. If you push him, Grayson may let you go. He couldn’t bear it if he lost you either to death or to Maitland. To save himself from hurt he may simply walk away if you’re not careful.”

Portia felt like a child being scolded by her father, yet Arend was only a few years older than her. What hurt the most and caused her acute embarrassment was that he was right. Forcing Grayson to reveal his feelings was not sensible given their circumstances. If the villain was successful in hurting her, it would cause Grayson’s heart to wither and die for good. “I shall instruct Maitland to halt his plan. I don’t want to hurt Grayson, or anyone else.” Tears welled in her eyes.

Arend moved around the table and handed her his handkerchief. “I’m sorry for being blunt, but I care for my friends. Have faith in Grayson. I think you’ll find his stance may have altered somewhat. Did you know he thought Robert was opposed to a match?”

“He mentioned that Robert told him we were not suited. However, there must be another reason Robert objected to a match. Perhaps Grayson was mistaken and heard only what he wished to hear … because he doesn’t want me but preferred to spare my feelings.”

“I’m not sure he knows what he wants.” Arend placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “He’s held back because he thought that was what Robert wanted. I recently pointed out that Robert obviously hoped for a match or he would not have asked Grayson to take care of you. Why would he, when you have four other brothers to ensure your well-being? Come, let us join the men,” he said, and offered her his arm.

Once in the courtyard, Arend called to Grayson, “I’d like Maitland to ride with me so we can discuss our situation.”

Maitland was about to protest, so Portia spoke up. “I’d like a word with Grayson, if you don’t mind, Maitland.”

Maitland stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish, my dear.”

Grayson offered no opinion, but helped her into the carriage. They sat together in silence until the carriage left the coaching inn. She was wondering how to broach the subject of their relationship when Grayson suddenly turned on her and said, “You can’t be serious about Maitland as an alternative. The man is my friend, but it must be obvious that he’s as cool as an iceberg. For a woman who wants love, that makes no sense.”

“I don’t want love from him. I merely want to protect my family from further scandal.”

He moved to sit beside her, and as it always did her body reacted. Her pulse raced and her mouth became dry as she watched Grayson run a hand through his glossy curls. “So you’d marry a man you don’t love? Do you desire him, then? He is a fine figure of a man.”

“He is attractive.” She heard Grayson’s curse a moment before she found herself in his arms, his mouth plundering hers, and her body flared to life. Her hands rose to sink into his hair, and her body pressed closer to his. His tongue swept her mouth possessively and a groan rumbled deep in his chest.

The kiss went on and on, and she couldn’t remember being pushed down onto the seat of the carriage, but suddenly he was on top of her, his hands under her skirts, fingers tracing a line up her thigh to stroke the wetness between her thighs.

He suddenly drew back, and they stared at each other for a moment. “Can he make you wet with one look, one touch?” he finally asked. “Can he ignite the fires of desire that are sparking in your eyes?”

“No,” she whispered. “Only you. It’s always only been you.”

“God, Portia. I want you. I’ve tried not to—” She hushed Grayson’s anguished words with her mouth, while her hands fumbled with the fall of his trousers.

His hands found the hooks on the back of her gown, and soon he’d freed her breasts by pulling down her chemise. His mouth clamped over one nipple and suckled. She arched into him, wishing for more. She freed his erection and gripped him tightly. His hand moved between her legs, parted her curls, and stroked. Her thoughts derailed as he plunged a long finger inside her while circling his thumb over her hardened nub, releasing agonizing pleasure. Her hips lifted of their own accord, and she called his name. He moved his mouth to her other breast, and with one tug on that nipple she splintered.

Her scream was muffled as he quickly captured her lips, kissing her in time to the fingers that continued to torment her between her legs.

She lay back, panting and nearly delirious. “I need you inside me,” she murmured against his ear. His hand flew out from under her skirts and he urgently pulled her up, positioning her astride his knees. He lifted her and thrust upward as he lowered her upon his turgid member. He did not give her time to adjust to his invasion before lifting her again and thrusting deep within her, over and over.

His lips left hers and created a wake of scalding heat as he licked down her breasts, slipping one taut nipple into his mouth. She moaned into the dimness of the coach.

Soon she took over, riding him hard. She felt stretched, wonderfully full, and all too soon the sensations gripped her as he continued his powerful lunging. The sweetest pleasure she had ever experienced spiraled deep inside. She swallowed at the dark sensuality marking his features. Portia cupped his face with her hands, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his. Using her legs, she gripped his hips tighter and rode him hard. She watched him grit his teeth and groan.