Suzi Love (27 page)

His long finger stroked across her chest, slightly above the low neckline of her dress and again her breath hitched and her nipples pained.

“Sweetheart, what could be more important than exploring what’s between us?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart when we’re alone. That’s only for show when there are others around. And I just told you, there’s nothing between us.”

“Nothing. Then prove it. Kiss me, Becca. Kiss me with the same passion you did four years ago behind the stable.”

“Cayle, you’re doing it again. Talking in circles. And four years ago I was a naïve girl who thought your kisses meant something.”

“They did mean something. But other things got in the way.”

“You mean like being caught flagrante delicto with my cousin?” Cayle flinched.

• • •

The man he’d become wanted to yell out loud that he was tired of hearing that, tired of false accusations. Especially tired of Becca flinging the old lies in his face each time she attempted to retreat from him for some reason. This time, she was stirring a battle between them so he’d refrain from murdering lecherous Bennett and back away from their original agreement. However, he wouldn’t allow it, wouldn’t tolerate her retreat from him in a futile attempt to shield him. His clandestine skills acquired working for the British government ensured he was well able to protect himself. And her and the rest of her family. Becca would just have to accept that, with time running out for them, her stiff resolve must bow under his determination to remain her defender.

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, little one.”

“I’m not your little one. I’m not your anything. In your own words, we contracted an agreement of mutual benefit, nothing more.”

Cayle absorbed that, knowing she was correct in essence. In his stupidest moment, he’d indeed said that. Hell, if he couldn’t decide what was in his own mind, or his own heart, how could Becca be expected to. With his indecisive attitude, he’d baffled them both. But suddenly, inspiration struck.

“I’m willing to talk seriously, about business, in exchange for a kiss. A reward for being helpful to you, your family, and the women of your society. After all, you wouldn’t be so much closer to finding Peggy’s murderer without my contacts in every seedy sector of the city.”

“We’d have managed somehow.”

“And you wouldn’t have attended balls and soirees, where I’ve noticed you or your sisters disappear into a private part of the host’s house for a part of the evening.”

She opened her mouth to object but he quickly countered with, “In fact, by kissing me you’ll be supporting the notion amongst those watching us like hawks this evening that I’m indeed enamoured of you. And that you’re not a thief using this as an excuse to rob their safes and pillage their paperwork.”

“Hauling me outside the ballroom with as much finesse as an overbearing oaf — ”

“Goodness, dearest, you’re slipping. Just an overbearing oaf. What happened to me being an arrogant pig?”

“Oooh! You’re impossible. We can’t hold a serious conversation while you continue to poke fun at me.”

“I promise, one kiss and I’ll be serious.” When she wavered, he added, “And you can halt it any time you wish.”

Cayle nuzzled her hair, letting the warmth of his breath tickle her skin and incite those intriguing goose pimples over her neck. Becca glanced around for onlookers while he prayed she didn’t resist him. He needed to touch her, to reassure himself that what he’d discovered today was correct. That she fitted his arms to perfection. Becca alone made his heart race and his body heat with such a fierce hunger.

“What if someone observes us?” Taking her with him, Cayle stepped away from the light and pulled her behind a column.

“No one can see us here. One kiss in exchange for my undivided attention for the remainder of the night.”

“Do you promise?”

Driven by the insistent push of his desire, Cayle was prepared to promise her the moon if she’d only press up against him again. The urge to grab her roughly and haul her against him was hard to damp down, but though she may pretend to be experienced she wasn’t. His raging arousal would frighten her. The strategy he’d decided on was to tempt her, entice her, and lure her bit by bit into his arms. And hopefully, his bed.

The eventual prize was worth every bit of control he exercised. Having Becca in occasional rushed assignations wouldn’t be enough. He needed more. Four years ago, he’d been enchanted by her awakening sensuality but now he was overjoyed by the passion that lurked underneath her rigid control. Good Lord, how he wanted to be the one to unleash it. The idea of some other clumsy, wet behind the ears, scoundrel touching her and unleashing all that energy filled him with a fury he hadn’t known he possessed. Looking at her tonight with her beauty and grace on display in a magnificent gown at a glittering ball, he knew she’d fill the role of his duchess to perfection.

He longed to strip that tantalising gown from her shoulders, to peel down her chemise and feast himself on the succulent lushness of her breasts. How he’d stopped himself from planting his fist in the face of at least five gentlemen tonight he didn’t know.

Being one of the male rogues himself for many years, he’d recognised their manoeuvres for what they were, simple leering fools. Lords who claimed to be gentlemen but who leaned in to peek down her décolletage. Who clasped her tighter than proper rules of behaviour allowed when they danced with her, just to feel her body brush theirs as they twirled her round and round. Becca seemed oblivious to them all and yet the night she’d come to his town house, she’d known and had accused him of doing the same thing.

Now, blame it on the moonlight, blame it on animal attraction between male and female. Blame it on any scientific explanation Becca would come up with but he could no longer help himself. Even a chaste kiss would be better than the aching hunger he suffered in his solitary bed each night, the burning in his body as fantasy after fantasy tormented him. Fantasies of the ways he’d claim Becca’s curvaceous body if he was free. Allowing her to become accustomed to the press of his hard arousal, he leaned in, meaning to hold to a leisurely pace and seduce her with his expertise. At the first soft touch of her lips under his, control shattered, and then deserted him. He shuddered with too long denied desire.

Damn Julia and her stipulations. To hell with his self-enforced celibacy.

He was a grown man with a man’s desires and needs and right now, he wanted Becca. Hungered for her quite desperately. Gathering her roughly to him, he claimed her the way he wanted, with passion, with lust. Oh yes, an enormous dose of lust. Another thought snuck in to his consciousness. This kiss felt different from previous ones. Deeper, more full of emotion. But there wasn’t time to dissect that idea when they’d only snatched minutes together in this secluded spot. Not one second could be wasted. There was only the here and now. A man, and his woman.

His next kiss was hard and fast, and then he settled into long and lingering caresses of her lips, her face, her neck. His hand crept towards her thrusting breast and her long moan came seconds before the interruption.

• • •

“Sherywn!” His name being called with such disdain impacted like a douse of icy cold water. “Cayle St. Martin.” Easing back from Becca, he reassured himself she was presentable before addressing the angry person standing three steps away. One of Michael’s favourite adages sprang into his mind. If looks could kill, he and Becca would be dead.

After adjusting the fall of his trousers over his painful groin, he half turned to face his stepmother. “Julia, what may I do for you?”

“Let go of that ridiculous chit.”

Fully turning to face his stepmother, Cayle tucked Becca behind him. “Take a care, Julia. To insult Lady Rebecca is to insult me.”

“That conniving creature doesn’t deserve to carry the title of lady anything. Her whole family is eccentric. Everyone knows that.”

From beside him he heard Becca gasp in outrage. Reaching down, he took her hand and rubbed his thumb in a soothing circle over her knuckles. Before she could speak, he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “The Jamisons are more of a family to me than you’ve ever been, Julia, so I would thank you to remember your manners.”

Julia stepped towards Becca and swung her hand upwards. Cayle did an agile sidestep to plant himself in her path and blocked her access to Becca who, far from cowering behind him, pushed to get past. Courageous Becca wouldn’t back down from Julia despite his stepmother outweighing her in the bitchiness stakes by a hundred to one. Besides which he couldn’t allow a scene, not here. Not when his ultimate goal was so close to his grasp.

Julia, however, was hell bent on trouble. “Cayle, I insist you escort me inside. You are making a fool of yourself with her.”

With a malicious look, she confronted Becca. “Hide behind his back for now, but know this. I am the Duchess of Sherwyn. I will not allow you to make my name a laughing stock. It’s all your fault.”

With dangerous quiet, Cayle asked, “What’s her fault? Becca hasn’t harmed you in any way at all.”

“Until you began following her around, I held high hopes that our family would emerge even stronger than before. At last, our name was becoming known for more than rumour and innuendo.”

Cayle was disturbed by the high colour of Julia’s face and the feral gleam in her eyes. She looked uncivilised, unreachable, as she gesticulated in a manner she would normally consider uncouth.

“You threw off your wild ways. Visiting your clubs, discussing commerce with others of your ilk increased our standing. Then this … this child, this stupid chit with her airs and graces, thinking herself cleverer than us, came along, and once again, led you into escapades spoken about over breakfast tables.”

Julia barely took time to suck in a deep lungful of air before continuing her rant. Becca was looking ready to retaliate and Cayle was becoming more alarmed, worried that someone would wander onto the balcony and overhear.

“I told your father that the scandal you caused was unacceptable in our family four years ago and I will not tolerate it now.” Swinging her gaze to where Becca stood in rigid silence, she said, “I have too much to lose. Sherwyn cannot be involved with a bluestocking. You’re nobody. I’ll ensure you and your sisters are never accepted by the high flyers.”

Cayle shifted Julia away. “Madam, you’ve overstepped your bounds. You have a nasty habit of turning up at the wrong times. First in the Chesterton’s library four years ago, and now here. Why is that?”

Unable to believe Cayle wouldn’t bow to her commands, Julia turned her anger on Becca. “You’ll regret this. You imagine that if you act like a whore, share his bed, make him laugh, that he’ll forget his standards, forget he is Sherwyn.”

Looking stunned by the amount of venom Julia spewed her way, Becca’s knees sagged. Cayle anchored her to his side with a strong arm around her waist as he once again warned Julia. “Don’t say another word.” But Julia was too buoyed by her belief that Cayle would succumb to her wishes that she took no heed of the fury on his face.

“You gullible chit. He’s toying with you as he did four years ago.”

When Becca’s body shook beneath his arm, Cayle clenched his jaw and fought against the urge to deal Julia right here in front of the cream of society and damn the consequences.

“You think I didn’t know about your little trysts. I permitted it because I knew he’d tire of you, as he does with all women. Except me.”

Julia reached up to Cayle’s lapel and ran a gloved hand down the length of his coat, her fingers hovering above his waist. “I’m the only one who knows how to please him. He’ll come crawling back to me as his father used to do, as all men do.”

Becca’s eyes spun upwards to him, wide with shock. “Sweetheart, please,” he protested, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“No. I’ve often been forced to remain silent and not defend myself against malicious talk in order to spare my family from ridicule. But your stepmother has no right to misalign you, or me.”

Facing Julia, she spoke strongly and convincingly. “I don’t believe any of that nonsense, Julia. And you should be ashamed of yourself for voicing such wicked lies about one of your own family. Say what you will of me, I’ve heard it all before. On the other hand, I’ll never allow you to speak ill of my family. Nor, of your stepson. He’s done everything in his power to appease you, and to comply with your preposterous demands.”

Dropping into a small curtsy, she added, “If you will excuse me, Duchess, I find the air out here to be putrid. I’ll rejoin my family and hope we never, ever, have occasion to meet again.”

With her head held high, Becca stalked back into the ballroom. Cayle felt an urge to applaud but first he needed to rid himself of a menace. He escorted Julia to the door and saw to her departure, so incensed he didn’t trust himself to speak except for a parting command. “Madam, you will attend me in the library at ten tomorrow morning.”

Heedless of her protests, he turned his back and hurried to the ballroom to search out Becca to try to make amends. Then, he had more investigating of his own to complete into Julia’s uncanny knack of turning up at inopportune times. He needed to know if it was coincidence that she’d arrived at Chesterton’s library just as Sybila had attacked him on the desk.

• • •

Cayle stood in an anteroom peering around the dance floor for a glimpse of Becca, when he felt a woman’s body press against his side. With a start, he recognised the lady leaning into him in such an ill-mannered fashion. He swallowed hard and acknowledged her with a nod, stepping away from her at the same time. “Lady Charmers.”

“Cayle, how delightful to see you again. It’s been too long.”

Having no polite reply to that observation, he remained silent. Undeterred, Sybila charged on as if they remained friends, as if there wasn’t so much water under the bridge between them.

“I’d enjoy it if you’d call upon me at my home.”

Bristling, Cayle struggled to maintain his calm before the woman who’d caused his exile to the continent for four years. She’d lied to everyone about their relationship and so caused an irreparable rift between he and Becca. He could barely be civil to her, let alone be friends again. Although, by the way she pressed against him he understood she offered more than friendship. The time for politeness had passed.