To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (2 page)

Her heart had been cleaved in two when she
registered his shocked desolation at her betrayal. Then she’d seen
his anger. He’d gone berserk, smashing up the drawing room.
Finally, his friends had managed to lead him outside. As he’d
stepped into his carriage he had given the house one final black
look and she had registered his chilled contempt. On that day, more
than ten years ago, she’d deliberately killed any feelings he may
have had for her.

Walking away from him had almost destroyed
her. If it were not for her son, Alfredo, she would have shriveled
up and died long ago.

There was no point telling Marcus the truth;
the past could never be changed. He had moved on with his life and
it would only bring him pain.

Besides, her enemy was still too powerful to
confront directly. But indirectly, both Marcus and she could seek
revenge. However, Marcus’s part in the revenge would be unknown to
him. He would have no idea the man he was about to ruin was the
cause of all their pain, and he never could. She would take that
secret with her to the grave.

She inwardly smiled. It was the first
genuine smile in a long while. If Marcus thought he could hide from
her by engaging in a tryst with this evening’s wanton hostess, he
was woefully mistaken. With an alluring smile on her lips, she
glided through the crowds and slipped into the corridor, making her
way toward the ladies’ retiring room, looking for Lady Somerset’s
abigail.

Rose stepped forward to meet her and Sabine
followed –her without comment as she was led – up the backstairs.
She knew her rush to reach Lady Somerset’s room had nothing to do
with wanting to face Marcus so soon. Rather, it was because she had
no wish to walk in on Marcus and his latest lover having sex.

She was strong, but not that strong.

Rose indicated that they’d reached Lady
Somerset’s door and for a split second Sabine almost lost her
nerve. Sweat dribbled between her breasts and her hand shook as she
reached out and opened the door. With grim determination, she
stepped forward into the brightly lit room.

The lovers were in a passionate embrace.
Marcus had the bodice of Elizabeth’s dress down at her waist and
his lips were pressed to the abundant flesh spilling above her
corset. Worse, he too was naked from the waist up. She gave silent
thanks that he was still wearing trousers for she had enough
trouble thinking clearly with just his powerful chest exposed.

Even so, when he turned at her intrusion,
Sabine froze in the doorway, caught in the hypnotizing power of his
lust-filled gaze. Even across the short distance, she could feel
the searing impact. Her lips parted and she drew a deep breath into
her lungs, cursing the faint smile, slow and insolent, curving his
mouth.

“Elizabeth, you naughty girl, you didn’t
tell me Miss Fournier would be joining in our play. Such fun!”

Elizabeth tried to cover her horror with a
weak giggle as she pulled up the bodice of her dress.

Collecting herself, Sabine walked further
into the room. “It’s Contessa Orsini, actually.
Lady
Orsini.”

Marcus growled deep in his chest. “I think
we both know you’re no lady.”

Gritting her teeth, Sabine moved further
into the room trying to recruit her wits into some semblance of
order. “Perhaps you should rejoin your guests, Lady Somerset. Lord
Wolverstone and I have private matters to discuss.”

His eyes blazed with emotion, burning so
fiercely, their anger threatening to scorch what confidence she had
left.

“I’m not in this bedchamber for words. If
you want to fuck, then by all means stay. If not, then I have no
use for you.”

Chapter Two

Elizabeth gasped, and being a clever woman,
she knew when to retreat. She took one look at Marcus’s black
countenance and quickly scurried from the room, slamming the door
behind her.

Marcus’s crudity was meant to shock. He
meant to push her away. But Sabine would not be pushed-not
anymore.

She moved to the chairs positioned around
the blazing fire, averting her eyes from Marcus’s finely chiseled
chest. “Stop acting like a petulant child. Ten years is a long time
to carry a grudge.”

His eyes narrowed and he stalked toward her,
his anger barely -contained. “Grudge! You have no idea….”

He was too close. She stepped back. Her
throat closed up and she was unable to utter a reply. His fury
swarmed around her like a smothering sand storm—abrasive and
deadly. How he’d changed, physically, that is.

His shoulders were broader, his chest harder
and his stomach rippled with finely attuned muscles. It was his
face that had changed the most, Sabine noted. The fine,
aristocratic features were still as striking as they’d been ten
years ago. His high cheekbones and noble brow were just as
handsome, yet more rugged. But his eyes—his beautiful amber eyes-
were cold. Once they’d been warm and soft, full of love and desire.
Now they were cold, ice cold, harsh and unforgiving.

She’d always thought him charmingly
handsome. Now he was ruthlessly gorgeous. It was all she could do
to keep from reaching out to sooth away the frown lines from his
forehead.

Sabine eyed him coolly. “Would you please
mind putting your shirt back on? You may find some of the ladies
swoon at such a blatant display of masculinity, but it has no
effect on me.”

His mouth twisted slightly. A remnant of his
old heart-melting smile, rife with sensual charm, emerged. “Liar!”
and he reached out and brought her fingers to his lips, the kiss
lingering against her glove. Sabine’s heart somersaulted violently
in her chest. When he placed her hand on the naked skin of his
chest, the heat made her body tighten with a jolt of pure, feminine
desire—something she’d not felt in a very long time.

Not since—him, all those years ago…

She prayed he’d not noticed her reaction.
But when she tore her gaze from where her hand lay and looked up,
his wicked smile proved he knew exactly how his nearness had
affected her. He was far too experienced to be fooled—especially by
her.

Holding his mocking stare, Sabine, with
great effort, refrained from withdrawing her hand from his body.
Instead, she ran her fingers slowly down over his stomach, watching
in satisfaction as the muscles flexed beneath her trailing fingers.
He snatched her hand away just as she reached the band of his
trousers.

Marcus tightened his grip on her wrist. “No
games. What is it you want? We both know it’s not my body. You had
my heart, body and soul ten years ago and you tossed them aside as
casually as a maid emptying a chamber pot.”

She did want him. Her response to the simple
contact heightened her memories of being held by him. The glorious
thrill of having his strong arms around her, her softness crushed
against the hardness of his body-she remembered it all. She’d
longed for his touch and longed for him for over ten years.

Sabine licked her lips. “I need your
help.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “By God you’ve got
some nerve.
My help
! After what you did, you want
my
help
?”

“Don’t keep repeating yourself, I’m not
stupid. Yes, your help.”

He let lose a string of curses and turning
walked to where his discarded clothes lay, he pulled on his shirt,
still muttering under his breath.

She felt her shoulders relax a smidgen once
the wide expanse of delectable flesh was covered. It had unnerved
her enough to be alone with Marcus for the first time since she’d
broken his heart, without trying to dampen her physical response to
his blatant masculinity as well.

“Please, Marcus. Won’t you take a seat? What
would it cost you to listen to me?”

Cost? Sabine, the only woman he’d ever
proposed to, was asking about cost. The last time he’d listened to
her sweet, honeycomb voice and the soft endearments and promises to
love him forever, he’d been screwed over.

It had cost him his heart; cost him
everything, in fact.

Fury engulfed him.

He advanced toward her composed, luscious
figure, displayed to perfection in her strategically draped gown,
with slow, determined strides. Standing directly before her he let
his eyes roam over every inch of her. Her quick indrawn breath did
not escape his notice. She wasn’t quite as calm as she
appeared.

Good.

He stood regarding her for a moment, letting
her unease grow. She licked her lips, while heat pooled in his
groin. His gaze then dropped to her slightly opened mouth. The
sweetness of her lips drew him and he leaned toward her, lowering
his head until his warm breath was close enough to mingle with
hers. His injured male pride was alleviated as he saw her sway
toward him. She wanted him to kiss her!

Abruptly, he drew back and moved to take one
of the empty chairs by the fire. Sitting, he shifted uneasily in
his seat and crossed his legs, silently cursing the hot blood that
stirred in his loins. For the first time ever, he wished to disown
his fierce arousal. He urgently needed to exercise more
control.

He’d not been prepared for her response to
his nearness and it had almost been his undoing. Being alone with
Sabine, in a bedchamber, was having a profound effect on his body.
Worse, the blank daze of desire swirling in her beautiful sky blue
eyes, in anticipation of his kiss, sent a shock of raw need through
his every extremity.

He refused to look at her until she took the
chair next to his. He needed the time to compose himself. She too
looked as if she was struggling to compose herself. . Her face held
a pink flush, as if they’d just made love. Suddenly, he desperately
wanted to see Sabine in the throes of passion. He’d never had the
privilege of having her beneath him and, by God, he wanted it
almost as much as the air he breathed.

She thankfully interrupted his raging carnal
thoughts.

“I know you have no reason to help me…” she
paused briefly and continued “after what I did to you, but I’m
hoping you won’t hold that against my Father. He greatly admired
you, you know.”

Marcus tried to concentrate on her words as
he sat, utterly fascinated. Sabine was everything he remembered and
more. Her hair was still as fair as dried wheat in the heat of
summer. The tight coil was softened by a few soft wispy tresses
that flowed over her bare shoulders. His gaze wandered to her
bosom. Her breasts seemed fuller and more womanly than those of the
young girl he remembered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge
to pull her into his lap and bury his face between their plump
splendor, to slip his tongue into the valley between her breasts
and stroke across her nipples…

He shook his head to clear away the tempting
images. He’d never known her in that way. A few kisses were all
he’d allowed himself. What a fool he’d been. He castigated himself
furiously. Why did she still have the power to make him want her so
much? Was it simply because he’d been denied the delights of her
inviting body?

“Are you listening to me?” A flush crept up
her neck as she noted where his gaze was lingering. He refocused
his attention with a start.

“Your father was a fine man, as were your
brothers. How they must have turned in their graves over the way
you treated me.”

The flush fled her features and her face
became deathly pale. “You’re right. I’m sure my brothers would have
ensured my life turned out quite differently, but I cannot change
the past.” Her eyes seemed to blur. “No matter how much I want to.”
she whispered.

“Humph! Change the past? It seems to have
worked out very well for you,
Lady
Orsini.”

Her soft voice held a wistful note.
“Appearances can be deceptive.”

“I know. You taught me that lesson very
well.”

She stiffened in her seat, upright like an
alabaster statue, unable to meet his gaze.

They sat in silence, the only sound the
crackle of the fire.

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for hurting
you.” Her voice shook, and her eyes when they met his were full of
unshed tears. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Only if what you state is true.”

She nodded, blinking rapidly to stop the
tears from falling.

Marcus exhaled in a rush. “Why? For god’s
sake, why? You owe me that at least.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought she’d
make it bleed. Finally she shrugged, as if in defeat. “I was young
and stupid and I made a mistake. A mistake life has severely
punished me for. You don’t need to heap any more upon me.”

Need, no. Want, yes. Or did he? Sabine
appeared to be genuine in her remorse. But then again, he’d thought
her genuine in her feelings for him in the past.

“What is it you want from me? Where you are
concerned, I have little to give.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for my father and
mother. I want you to enter and win a card game—
the
card
game.”

Marcus found it difficult to control his
surprised reaction. . This was the last thing he’d expected. “You
need money?”

“No, not at all. What I want of you is to
enter and then win the Gentleman’s Annual Whist Tournament that
begins in three days’ time.”

Now he was interested. . He did not have a
name as the most skilful of players. Did she in fact want to see
him lose? He remained silent, his steely gaze fixed unwaveringly on
her face. She licked her lips and yet again his balls tightened.
God, how could he still want her so badly? His mind pictured all
the things those luscious lips could do to pleasure him.

She continued. “You have never entered this
tournament before and therefore will be an unknown.”

Marcus felt his shoulders bunch and ripple.
“You want me to win the tournament? Why?”

“I mean to destroy the man who ruined my
father. His actions lead directly to the deaths of my parents.
Women cannot enter this tournament. Therefore, I need your
assistance. As well, I need you to give me that element of unknown
in my quest to trounce my enemy. I wish to entice a certain
gentleman into betting against you. I will lure him to bet on the
favorite, Lord Prendergast. He’s won the tournament for the last
five years. When you win, this said gentleman will have lost
everything.”