Rebel Marquess (29 page)

He released her breasts to brush his knuckles over the flat surface of her abdomen. “Yet you were coming to me anyway?”

“I had to know…” Her voice held a weak tremor that revealed the trembling deep in her center.

“Know what?” he asked, reaching down between her legs. He pressed the very tip of his finger to the sensitive bud of her sex, and Eliza’s eyes drifted closed. She tried to roll her hips into his hand, but his thighs held her firmly to the wall. She bit her lip in frustration and opened her eyes again to look up at him. His features were indiscernible in the darkness of the alcove. He was the highwayman now. Reckless and dangerous.

“I had to know if you still wanted me,” she admitted on an exhale.

The sound he made was nearly a growl. He shifted his stance so she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal jutting against her hip. Lovely indolent heat pooled between her thighs.

He lowered his head beside hers to murmur harshly into her ear. “Do you have your answer, minx?”

Eliza slid her hands up into his hair to splay her fingers against his skull. “I believe I do.” Angling her chin, she urged him to turn his head. Their lips met in a hot-breathed, open-mouthed gasping kiss.

He held her tight with an arm around her waist and slid his hand farther between her thighs to press more insistently to her sex. She whimpered and tugged at his lips with her teeth, wanting to draw him in to her. Wanting to meld with him.

He dragged his mouth from hers and chuckled when she tightened her hands around his skull in resistance. He rubbed his fingers along her sex, dampening the cotton of her nightgown, and murmured with a rough note of humor, “Another minute and I could take you here against the wall.”

Desire flooded her at his words and her body pulsed in deep and private places. “Take me now,” she panted.

A dangerous sound rumbled through his chest and he tightened his arm around her. “Ah, how your tempt me.” He proved his words by shifting to grasp her buttocks in his hands as he rocked his hips against her. The hard ridge of his sex ground against the sensitive peak of her sex.

She gasped and dropped her forehead to his shoulder as a blaze of heat engulfed her. She was like softened wax in his hands. He could do whatever he wanted with her just then. He could have swept her gown up to her waist and plunged deep into her body right there in the middle of the hallway and she would have been grateful. She would have been ecstatic.

But the marquess proved to have far more control than that. “Shall we retire to your bedroom?”

“Yes,” Eliza managed on a swift release of breath. “It is so much closer than yours.”

He laughed and she realized somewhere in the haze of her lust-filled brain that he was asking her permission to continue their rendezvous, not necessarily
where
they should continue. Still, her answer resulted in the favored response. He pushed away from the wall and grasped her hand to pull her along behind him on wobbly legs as he strode swiftly to her bedroom.

Eliza let go of his hand as soon as the door clicked shut behind them. Not caring to waste a single minute, she released the ties of her robe and dropped it to the floor as she crossed the room. Then she grasped fistfuls of her nightgown and swept it over her head to toss it aside before she turned back to the marquess.

He stood frozen just a few steps behind her.

“Dammit, Eliza. You stop my heart,” he choked and clenched his hands into tight fists. His gaze roamed over the contours of her nude body. “You are stunning.”

Pleasure swelled in her heart at his words, but when she looked down at herself, Eliza saw the same body she had always had reflecting with gold shadows in the flickering candlelight. She looked up again to see the marquess stalking toward her. Tilting her head, she asked curiously, “I am?”

He reached her then and lifted his hands to lay them on her. She tingled in anticipation of feeling the slide of his palms on her bare skin. But then he curled his fingers back into fists, dropped his hands to his sides and shook his head.

“So beautiful and ingenuously sensual it makes my teeth ache with the effort to maintain control.” His brows lowered over his gaze, shielding his thoughts, hiding the penetrating light of desire that shone in his eyes.

“Then don’t.”

“What?” He met her gaze again, and Eliza was struck breathless by what she saw there.

Eliza felt the steady hum of barely contained sexual energy emanating from him. She wanted it. She wanted his need to consume her.

“I give you permission to lose control,” she clarified.

The light in his eyes blazed to full flame and a sound raw with animalistic hunger issued from his throat. He lunged for her, lifted her against his chest and carried her into the private shadows beneath the canopy of her bed.

She laughed as he dropped her to the mattress. “Always the barbarian,” she accused.

“And you love it,” he growled as his full weight covered her. Without pause, he gripped her buttocks and positioned her to accept the demanding thrust of his sex.

Her laughter turned to a heady moan. “I do.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

What the hell was Eliza doing in this part of town?

As soon as he passed her walking along the street, Rutherford called for his carriage to be turned about. Unfortunately, the mid-day London traffic created a problem there, so he decided to catch her by foot rather than risk losing her. He instructed his driver to meet him once he was able to get the carriage turned around.

Taking off after Eliza, he contemplated what could have drawn her to this neighborhood filled with business offices and solicitors.

Had she become lost during a shopping excursion?

But they were nowhere near the popular shopping lanes.

His long strides ate up the distance between them quickly enough, and as he approached her from behind, he could not help but admire the lovely lines of her figure beneath her smart day gown and spencer. The woman’s curves were enough to make a man’s mouth water.

The weekend at Boarhill had been more than three weeks ago, yet still he remembered every moment in minute detail. He had been forced to stay away from her for just that reason, worried that even a moment in her presence would incite him to lust.

He had not been overly cautious, he realized as he forced down a rising tide of desire. Once he was within a few paces of her, he cleared his throat. “Miss Terribury.”

She stopped and turned around with a start, her eyes wide with surprise. He noted the way her expression warmed to a wide smile and her eyes flashed with pleasure at the sight of him. He hoped she would always have cause to greet him so sweetly.

“My Lord Rutherford, what a pleasant surprise.”

Their greeting was properly formal, yet when he took her gloved hand in his, a wealth of sensual memories flickered in the depths of her gaze and his loins tightened even more. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I did not expect to see you in this neighborhood. Is your family nearby?”

“No. I am on a personal errand,” she replied as she drew her hand back. He did not miss the evasive tone coating her voice.

He lowered his brows. “Where is your groom?”

“I took a hack. It is waiting just down the street.”

“You should have a groom with you,” he insisted.

She cocked her head to the side as she met his concern head on. “Well, I do not. I assure you I am perfectly capable of walking along a public street without someone tripping over my heels.”

“Capable is not the same as safe.”

She laughed. “Come now, this is hardly an area rife with pickpockets.”

He scowled at her insistence on arguing. “But lechers can be anywhere. I will have to accompany you.”

“No,” she said quickly, “That is unnecessary.”

Suspicion rushed through him. “What is the nature of your errand?”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she scanned the length of the street. When she looked back to him, she had her bottom lip clamped between her teeth and her eyes narrowed in indecision. “I would rather not say. And frankly, it is none of your business.”

That was what he feared. “As your betrothed, it is assuredly my business.”

She stood staring at him but did not take the arm he offered. After a minute, he slid his gaze to the side and realized they were being carefully watched by passersby. He hoped this would not turn into a scene, but he had absolutely no intention of letting her traipse off on her own in an unfamiliar neighborhood, heading to God knows where to engage in some secret activity.

“
If
ours were a typical engagement, I might agree to the premise that my business, personal though it may be, would reflect upon you as my husband. However,” she countered, “since this engagement will not last to the wedding day, such a position is irrelevant.”

He glowered at her reasoning but did not bother to refute it. He had hoped that given enough time, she would come to terms with the alteration in their plans. It seemed three weeks had not been long enough to bring her around.

But that was an argument for another day.

“Nonetheless,” he insisted, “as your betrothed
in this moment
, it remains my duty to protect your well-being.”

Her eyes widened and she smiled. “Your duty? How very chivalrous of you.” Did he detect a sharp point of sarcasm in her sweet voice? “I am impressed and though a small, secret part of me thrills at such a masculine penchant for unnecessary heroics, I disagree. Now I really must be on my way. Do have a lovely afternoon.” She turned as if to walk away.

As if the conversation were finished.

“Eliza.” He would not be maneuvered on this point.

She turned back to him with a sigh of resignation and propped her hands on her hips. “If you intend to be bullish about this, I will allow you to escort me under a few simple conditions, and only because I do not have the time to stand here and argue. If you cannot agree, I will just return to my hack and do my business on another day.” She cleared her throat. “Since I prefer not to postpone this appointment, I expect you to be reasonable and accept my terms.”

She paused and he angled his head with an imperious tilt, certain he was not going to like this. “Your terms?”

Sliding her hand into the bend of his elbow, she turned him about to continue in the direction she had been heading. “You are to keep quiet and ask no questions. You are along as my escort only. Think of yourself as a groom, not the marquess.” She kept her gaze trained forward, but he glanced aside at her in time to catch the twist of humor at the corner of her mouth. She knew as well as he that he would never be able to accomplish the modest demeanor of a groom. “This business is personal and important. You will do exactly as I say without argument.”

He stared ahead. Did she realize her voice had lowered with that last statement? He couldn’t help but hear the words in an entirely different context. In a flash, he imagined what it might be like to be under her command. He clenched his jaw against the jolts of lust that shot through him.

After a long pause and a deep and audible breath, she continued, “And you will not utter a word of this appointment to anyone in my family. Can you abide by such terms?”

“I shall do my best,” he replied, still snared by the sexual images running rampant through his mind.

“Not good enough, my lord,” she retorted. “I need your solemn vow.”

He grunted, not at all appreciative of her impertinent manner. “You have it.”

“Excellent. And you best trust I shall hold you to it. Now, we have arrived.” She turned them down a narrow walk lined with trimmed hedgerows that led to a nondescript brick building. The address plate beside the brightly painted red door gave the name
Whittier & Smith
.

“What—” he began, but she cut him off with a sharp
pfft
and a fierce little glare that reminded him he had agreed not to ask questions or to speak at all for that matter.

He answered with a dark glower but kept his mouth shut as he opened the door. She released his arm to enter ahead of him. He was here as her escort only, he reminded himself. Not as a concerned fiancé wondering what kind of mysterious meeting she had arranged. He tried not to think that she would now be entering the building alone if he had not happened to drive past her when he did.

Inside, the atmosphere was heavy and somewhat musty with a distinctive scent hanging in the air. As his eyes accustomed themselves to the dim lighting, he noted the narrow vestibule they passed through opened to a larger chamber. This room was occupied by a middle-aged clerk seated behind a desk far too large for his slight frame. The rest of the room contained only a long wooden bench and two chairs. Nothing to give Rutherford any clue into the nature of business provided. The clerk was bent over a book spread open in front of him and several more imposing tomes graced the remaining surface of the desk. Rutherford realized then that the scent he noted upon entering the dank building had been the smell of ink and leather.

While Eliza walked confidently toward the clerk, Rutherford followed close behind.

“Excuse me, sir.” She had to say it twice before the clerk raised his head, blinking as he pushed his reading spectacles up to the bridge of his nose.