The Wedding Trap (39 page)

Whirling around, he prepared himself for a fight. A pair of soft, fear-glazed gray eyes collided with his own.

Suddenly the blue and white basin clattered to the floor as Eliza tossed the crockery aside and hurled herself into his arms. “Kit, my God, you’re here! I thought you were Philip. I thought he’d come back for me.”

Kit clutched her tight and squeezed his eyes shut. Cradling her to him, he savored the sensation of her lithe body pressed against his own. Without thinking, he crushed his lips to hers and breathed in her warm, vital scent, overwhelmed to be holding her once again in his arms. Deepening their kiss, he gave himself over to the moment, blood thundering in his head, pounding through his veins with a mixture of complete relief and immense joy.

Eliza responded, returning his kisses with an eagerness that rocked him to his core. Gentling his touch, he let both of them savor the connection, rejoice in the unbridled exhilaration of being together once again.

At length, he forced himself to draw away, resting his forehead against her own. “Are you all right?” he whispered, his voice a low, thick rumble.

She leaned back enough to gaze up at him. “Yes. At least I am now.”

He kissed her again, a soft, gentle joining of lips. “I thought I’d lost you. My heart nearly stopped when we realized he’d taken you.”

She trembled. “I knew you’d come after me, but I didn’t think any of you would realize his destination, not right away. I assumed you would all be headed to Scotland by now.”

“Brevard and Adrian are traveling there now. I’m sure they’re still en route. All of us, including Darragh, set out as soon as we realized you’d been abducted.”

“Thank heavens for your quick thinking.” She cast a rueful glance toward the floor. “Sorry about attacking you with the washbowl. I’m glad now that I missed.”

He grinned. “I’m glad that you missed too. You’d have left a wicked knot on my noggin, not to mention given me a raging headache.”

“When I heard footsteps in the hall, I assumed he had returned early, come back before I had a chance to escape.”

“And how were you going to do that if not with the basin?” He gazed around the room, only then noticing a strip of cloth—seven feet long at least—lying on the floor at the base of the window. “Are those bedsheets? Or should I say,
were
those bedsheets?”

She nodded. “I cut them into strips and braided them together in hopes of using it as a rope. I didn’t think I had enough length and was about to start on the curtains when you arrived.”

“A rope for what?” He released her and crossed to the open window, his stomach lurching as he saw the drop down to the cliff below. “Lord have mercy, Eliza, you weren’t going to try climbing out the window, were you? It would have been nothing short of suicide. You’d never have made it down in one piece.”

She crossed her arms. “I had to do something. I could not sit by and let him force me into marriage.”

“So you aren’t married, then?”

She shook her head. “No, not yet. That’s where he went, to consult with the minister. He may return anytime. We really shouldn’t linger.”

“She is right, you know,” declared a grim male voice from the hallway. “You ought not to have stayed.”

Pettigrew stepped into the room and slammed the door closed behind him. In his hand, he held a pistol.

Eliza sucked in an audible breath.

Kit reached out, caught her hand and tugged her behind him.

Pettigrew smirked. “Hiding her will do you no good. I am the one who has the advantage here.”

“I assure you, Pettigrew,” Kit drawled, “you have no advantage, nor will you ever have.”

Fury flashed in Pettigrew’s gaze, his nose jutting out like a great vulture’s beak. “Unlike the last time, you’re in no position to offer insults, so I would advise you to curb your tongue. And I’m sick of your interference, Winter. How did you find us here?”

“Simple deductive reasoning. There are only so many places you could have fled with Eliza. I sent a man to every one.”

Pettigrew’s hatred shone brighter.

As though he wasn’t in the least concerned, Kit placed a hand on his hip. “If I were you, I would run while I had the chance.”

Pettigrew’s lips parted, incredulous amusement showing on his face. “
I
should run?
I?
You are the one who is a fool, Lord Christopher. A self-indulged, careless second son, who hasn’t the wherewithal to succeed at anything that is of the slightest worth in this world.”

“Maybe so, but at least I’ve never crawled so low I’ve had to resort to kidnapping an innocent woman for her money.”

The other man’s eyes burned hot as coals. “
My
money,” Pettigrew spat, gesturing toward himself with his gun. “She’s got
my
money and I want it back!”

Kit sprang, using the instant of distraction to grab for the weapon. He nearly managed to wrench the gun free of the other man’s hand, but Pettigrew countered just in time and held firm, his grip like a vice. They wrestled, grappling between themselves. Muscles straining, Kit fought for possession of the pistol, ignoring any inkling of worry about the gun going off before he could pry it free.

The bastard is strong,
Kit thought, far stronger than he would ever have imagined.

Still, Pettigrew was no match for him, Kit using brute force to gradually twist the scoundrel’s hand and arm up over his head. Tightening his grip, Kit forced Pettigrew’s wrist back, pressuring it into an unnatural angle that threatened to tear muscle and snap bone.

Arms straining, Pettigrew’s face contorted with frustration and pain, then he gave a shout and let the gun clatter to the floor. He bit out a vicious curse as Kit kicked the weapon behind him.

“Eliza, get the gun,” Kit ordered.

She didn’t hesitate, racing forward to retrieve the weapon from the floor. Visibly shaking, she picked it up and held it out in front of her, aiming the firearm directly at her cousin.

Unable to restrain his anger, Kit smashed his fist into the other man’s jaw. Pettigrew cried out as he stumbled back, whimpering in his misery.

“I should horsewhip you for what you’ve done,” Kit told him, “and afterward set the magistrates on you. The charge of kidnapping alone could send you to prison for a long, long time. But doing so would inevitably bring Eliza’s name into the matter, and she has already been harmed enough. I’ll not see her reputation smeared by the likes of you. So as much as it galls me, I’m going to let you go, but only if you swear never to set foot in England again, so long as you live.”

“And if I refuse?” Pettigrew challenged, cradling his injured wrist to his chest.

Kit narrowed his eyes as he shot the other man a dangerous stare. “Then you had best be prepared to watch your back, because I promise you this, if you ever come near Eliza again, I will kill you. It’s as simple as that. Leave, Pettigrew. My suggestion is France, since it’s a quick crossing from here. Or go to America. They say it is indeed the land of opportunity.”

Pettigrew stood his ground for another long moment, his jaw thrust forward at a pugnacious tilt. Then abruptly, his shoulders sagged. He cast one final venomous, black-eyed glare at Eliza before spinning on his heels and slinking from the room.

Kit didn’t allow himself to relax until the door closed behind Pettigrew. Crossing, he turned the key in the lock and flipped the night latch to guard against any further intrusions. Hurrying back to Eliza’s side, he eased the pistol from her tremulous grip and set the weapon aside, careful to make certain the trigger was not cocked.

Drawing her comfortingly into his arms, he held her tight and let her burrow close. “It’s over, my little wren. I have you now and nothing and no one will harm you again.”

Her melting gray gaze lifted to his, and in the space of a single heartbeat, they were kissing.

Fervent and needy, he took her mouth with a kind of savage desperation, releasing all the pent-up fear and anguish and apprehension that had besieged him over the last twenty-four hours. Closing his eyes, he lost himself to the dulcet sweetness of her touch, exalting in the disparate sensations of blessed relief and smoldering passion, the inner fire that always burned for her leaping to life in his blood and vitals.

Stroking his hands over her back, he caressed her hips, then glided up again to trace the tensile length of her spine. Sliding low, then lower still, he curved his palms over the rounded softness of her bottom, cupping her, gently kneading her flesh, before lifting her toes off the floor to fit her tight against his frame. Devouring her mouth, he reveled in the mewing sounds of pleasure he coaxed from her throat, the marvelous, sensuous weight of her slight figure cradled inside his powerful grasp.

Eliza clung, wrapping her arms around Kit’s neck as she poured herself into his ardent embrace. His hair held the scent of the sea, or maybe it was the storm-tossed breeze whipping into the room through the open window, the wind bold and robust, but no competition for the mastery of Kit’s touch.

Widening her mouth, as he’d once taught her to do, she invited him to take more. To dive deeper. To plunge them both into a world of hunger and possession, where they could revel in dark, wet delights and silken pleasures. Shuddering, she sighed in hazy bliss, his kisses the nearest thing to perfection she knew she would ever find on this earth.

A harsh gust of wind puffed into the room, sending her curls dancing around her face, yanking at her skirts like the hands of an impatient tot. Shivering, she held Kit tighter and kissed him until she wondered if she might explode, bright and dazzling as a Roman candle in a fireworks show.

A loud clap of thunder boomed outside, hard enough to rattle the walls of the inn. An instant later, sheets of rain broke loose, slicing a diagonal path to the ground below. Carried aloft by the unrelenting wind, icy droplets of rain sprayed inward, splattering her skin and Kit’s, and dampening their clothes.

Gasping, the two of them broke apart, shaken by the frigid damp. Blinking in confusion, they watched water sluice into the room, pouring across the floor like a falls. Lightning flashed and cut a jagged arc in the sky, turned inky black despite the morning hour. Unleashing its full fury, the rain pounded harder.

Springing into action, Kit set her on her feet and rushed to the window. Fighting the wind, he closed the panes and shut the downpour outside. As if in complaint, the tempest beat a relentless tattoo that pattered and pummeled against the glass.

He turned, rainwater glistening in his hair, on his skin. Crossing to her, he bent and scooped her off her feet, then carried her to the bed.

“No sheets,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck as he lay her down, “but I suppose we can make do. Let me get the quilt. I’ll be back in a moment.”

But a moment was long enough for her conscience to kick in and give her a sudden, painful jab.

Mercy, what am I doing?
She was about to sleep with Kit. Again. A kidnapping, a rescue, a consoling hug, and she’d practically thrown herself at him, ready to surrender, body and soul. But despite his gallantry in saving her, nothing between them had changed.

Shivering now with cold, her mind began to clear as though emerging from an intoxicated stupor.

He returned with the coverlet and spread it over her. “This should keep off the chill.”

“Kit, we can’t do this,” she stated, struggling to sit upright against the lumpy mattress that seemed determined to draw her downward.

Setting a light hand against her shoulder, he tumbled her backward, then followed her down. “Can’t we?”

“No. In case you’ve forgotten, I am engaged.”

A heavy scowl settled over his brows. “You don’t have to be.”

Surprise rippled through her. “What?”

“Don’t marry him.” Leaning over her, he gazed into her eyes, his own glittering like fragments of green and gold glass. “Marry me instead.”

Confusion knotted beneath her breast. “We’ve been through this before. You don’t want to marry me.”

“Don’t I?” A soft breath soughed from his chest as he glided his lips across her cheek.

She shook her head. “You only want my body.”

He nipped her earlobe, then feathered a series of kisses along the column of her throat. “Is that right?”

“It’s obligation talking,” she rushed on, “because you desire me. Because we are here together alone, and if we do this I will be quite thoroughly compromised yet again.”

Lifting the quilt, he slid under it. “I should say you will be, since I plan to ravish you until we both collapse from fatigue. But this,” he paused, pressing the unmistakable length of his iron-hard erection against her hip, “has nothing to do with obligation.”

“Lust, then.” She struggled to move away.

Catching hold, he gently pressed her back onto the mattress, capturing her wrists to pin her hands next to her head. In the dim stormy light, she met his gaze. “Please, Kit. Please let me go.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I can’t. Believe me, I’ve tried, but it quite simply cannot be done. And though I unquestionably ache with lust for you, my emotions run far, far deeper than that.” His expression serious, he brushed a kiss across her mouth. “I love you, Eliza.”

At first she didn’t think she had heard him. “What?”

“I love you. I should have told you sooner, but I was too much of a fool to even realize it myself. When you were taken…well, I knew my life wouldn’t be worth living anymore, not without you in it.”

The air rushed from her lungs, leaving her head spinning as though she had taken a bad fall. He couldn’t be saying these things, she marveled. She must in truth have hit her head and was hallucinating. All of this, perhaps even the kidnapping, nothing more than a fantastic dream.

The tantalizing stroke of his thumbs against the inside of her palms brought her back, let her know that everything she felt was indeed reality. His touch set her body aquiver, her nerves ablaze.

“Say something, sweetheart,” he urged. “Tell me if you think you could feel the same. If you could stand to marry me and share my life and bear my children. I know you want babies. I assure you, it will be my very great pleasure to get you with child, and keep you that way, as many times as you wish. All you need do is say yes. Please, Eliza, please say yes and let me spend my days making you happy.”