Shayla Black (16 page)

“
You know him?” she asked. She could not keep the surprise from her voice.

“
Indeed.”

“
How? When did you have occasion to meet a man of...” Maddie hesitated, uncertain how to best point out the unlikelihood that a man of Brock’s social standing should be invited to the house of a duke.

“
His wealth? His rank?” Brock bit out. “As I said, it is business.”

“
Yet he invited you to his home for a social gathering?”

Brock smiled again. “Tonight, they go together.”

“
If you have Cropthorne’s social backing, you do not need the consequence that wedding me would bring,” Maddie quipped. “He is far more powerful.”

“
He would not look nearly as lovely in your dress.”

Maddie was not fooled. She shot him a withering stare, which he answered with a mere smile. Brock was many things—arrogant, demanding, ruthless—but never simple. He never did anything without a purpose. If Cropthorne was willing to invite him to gatherings, then what role did she play in this game?

“
I thought you were on a quest for acknowledgment, not beauty,” she said carefully.

“
Ah, but why not have both? Besides, I can hardly arrive at Cropthorne’s without a proper female on my arm, can I?”

She supposed not, but something here felt off-kilter.

The puzzle nagged at her during their brief journey to her distant cousin’s house. She had not seen Cropthorne in some years, not since her father had badgered his sire for money. Of course, the late duke’s scandals had ensured that her father, though poor as a church mouse, would pass judgment and tell his audacious cousin exactly what he thought of such disgrace. The late Cropthorne had cared very little for anyone else’s opinion. Accordingly, the old duke had not given her father a farthing.

She and Brock arrived with the party in full swing. Upon their announcement, heads again turned. Furious whispering ensued behind fans. Gentlemen eyed her with frank consideration. She and Brock had been seen together in public several times now. If no announcement of forthcoming nuptials came soon, they would assume she’d become Brock’s mistress. And he knew it. That was what Maddie wanted, yet…the thought filled her with disquiet. She swallowed a curse.

Wishing the evening over, Maddie shot a furious glare at Brock. “You brought me here to cement the expectation of our marriage.” After all, few would imagine that she’d bring her lover to her cousin’s house—especially a cousin of such social importance.

He smiled, something bright and cunning. “No one will be surprised when we exchange vows.”

“
And if we do not, I will be open to censure—”

Maddie would have said more, but Cropthorne approached, escorting the venerable Lady Litchfield. Was Gavin courting the young widow? Maddie would hardly know, not having spoken to her cousin since her debut. After his father’s scandals, she supposed Gavin wanted everyone’s good opinion. If so, he had to start with Lady Litchfield. As did everyone.

“
Hello, Taylor,” the duke greeted. “And dear cousin Madeline,” he said with a gracious bow, then placed a brief kiss on her hand. “It has been years since I’ve had the pleasure of your company. I was sorry to hear of your husband’s death.”

“
Thank you,” she murmured.

Around the room, every pair of eyes watched the exchange. Maddie felt their gazes—some curious, some disdainful—boring into her face, her back. As she felt the perspiration bead at her hairline, she stood even more stiff, erect.

“
I am pleased to see you both,” Gavin said.

“
Thank you for inviting us,” Brock returned smoothly.

Her cousin turned to his companion. “Lady Litchfield, you must know my cousin, Lady Wolcott.”

The pale beauty’s smile was like ice, transparent and lacking warmth. “Indeed. How do you do?”

“
I’m well, thank you. And you?”

Lady Litchfield merely manufactured her chilly smile again.

Maddie glanced about the sumptuous room. Drinks flowed, people waltzed, matrons chatted. And everyone watched.

“
Mr. Taylor, may I present London’s loveliest and most sought hostess, Lady Litchfield,” Gavin said. “My lady, this is Mr. Taylor, England’s most clever financier.”

Brock extended his hand to the pale widow, reaching for her gloved fingers. Lady Litchfield edged away and made a moue of distaste. Then she turned her back to Brock.

The party around them froze. The orchestra missed a note, before blurring into a quiet altogether. Utter silence descended before half the room issued a collective gasp.

The woman had given Brock the cut direct.

He stiffened, his smile fading. His jaw clenched so hard he looked as if he’d been made from stone.

Red heat rushed to her face. She burned from the inside out, her entire body stinging with shame and anger. The haughty witch had been unforgivably rude, rebuffing a fellow guest in front of their host, in front of the whole party! And Maddie knew that even now, the rest of the
ton
had taken note of the slight and knew that such behavior would be deemed acceptable.

All because he’d been born to lowly parents. As if he’d had any say in that matter!

And Brock, how must he feel? If she was embarrassed to be seen with a man who incited such rejection, the man himself must feel horrified by the slight of someone so socially important.

Maddie risked a glance toward him. Brock still stood in place, hand extended toward Lady Litchfield.

She burned all over again.

With a shrug, he adopted a rueful smile and dropped his hand to his side. “I knew I should have told my valet to put extra starch in my cravat. It’s distasteful of me, I agree. I shall know better next time.”

With a delicate little sniff, Lady Litchfield strode away from the group, making her opinion quite known. Brock watched, that wry smile still firmly in place.

As Maddie watched the self-important widow disappear into the crowd, she could not remember when she had formed such an intense dislike for somebody so quickly. A glance at her cousin proved Gavin’s chiseled features looked both tense and annoyed.

Despite the fact he must be suffering, Brock kept smiling.

She couldn’t help but feel empathy for him as she stood frozen in the shattered gathering.

“
I think your cravat looks all that is fine,” she murmured.

“
Of course it is,” Gavin snapped, glaring in the direction of his fleeting companion. “I’ll introduce you to some of the others we discussed, Bathurst, Elvaston. They are here.”

Brock nodded at her cousin, then turned to her. For the first time since his return to her life, Maddie saw clearly an emotion in his green eyes besides lust or anger; she saw appreciation. Warmth. The look softened his face, giving her a glimpse of the boy he’d been that fateful summer five years ago.

“
Thank you,” he murmured.

“
You are welcome.” Head held high, Maddie sent him a tentative smile in return as they walked into the crowd.

#

Drawing in a deep breath in the misty midnight air, Brock stared at the Paddington cottage’s blue door. Tonight, he would meet Maddie here for the first time. She would be inside waiting, perhaps even pondering ways to break his self-control.

The remembrance of her warm hand stroking his shaft made him grit his teeth and sweat. Then into his mind thrust a memory of last night, when she had defended his cravat after Lady Litchfield’s slight and stood beside him proudly all evening. Maddie had surprised Brock. Hell, she had astounded him. Hadn’t she always thought him beneath her? Perhaps, but in that moment, she had taken his side against her own kind, against the ignobility of his birth. Why?

The smell of rain hung heavy in the spring air when he felt the first drop on his cheek, and he rushed to the door.

Tonight,
he
was the seducer. Though Maddie had been married to the despicable Sedgewick and shared his bed for two years, Brock had the advantage of wider experience on his side. Some of his lovers had been older, some younger—but all experienced, knowing what they sought in bed. He had paid attention to their desires.

Tonight, he would use every bit of his knowledge and skill to his advantage.

But his own breathing staggered at the thought of touching Maddie again, of taking off every garment until nothing stood between them. As much as he wanted to fuck her, that wasn’t all. Her defense of him last night had opened some part of his heart again. And when he’d brushed her mouth with the pad of his thumb, as had been his habit all those years ago? Her mournful expression had wrenched his heart. He could almost believe that, deep down, she still cared, perhaps still loved him...if she hadn’t become Sedgewick’s wife. If she wasn’t so insistent on refusing his proposal now. But no. Maddie was all too willing to take him as a lover, but never as a husband. Resentment churned his gut. She still looked down her pert nose at him, as she had five years ago. Too bad for her. He would not rest until she became his wife—and she fell as hard for him as he was falling again for her.

#

Maddie woke to the soft patter of rain upon the roof of the darkened cottage in Paddington—and the feeling she was not alone. She sat up on the plush rose-colored velvet sofa, cursing herself for nodding off so near midnight, and wondered what had happened to the lamps she’d lit. Only two small candles flickered beside her now.

A vibrant warmth enveloped her shoulders, the back of her neck. Anxious, she made to rise and turn. A strong hand clamped about her scantily-clad shoulders kept her in place.

“
Don’t move,” whispered a voice in her ear.

Brock. Not a stranger. Relief filled her.

Her relief was short lived when she felt more than saw a soft silk scarf slide over her eyes, and he knotted the scarf at the back of her head. Darkness obscured her vision. What did Brock plan? Anxiety and anticipation mixed. Her blood charged and raced.

When she reached for the blindfold, Brock grabbed her wrist with one hand and soothed her with a soft stroke across her nape with the other. “No. Trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

Crazily, she believed the low, hypnotic voice resonating in her ear, tingling down her spine. She dropped her hands to her lap. Yet uncertainty and tumult remained. What was he about?

“
I intend to please you tonight. You are to think of nothing except your pleasure.”

“
But what... why—” she protested.

“
Shhh. Are you frightened?”

“
No.” But being blindfolded left her with a terrifying feeling of vulnerability. Her entire reality suddenly hung suspended from the sound of his deep voice alone. The sensation filled her with a scintillating sense of the forbidden.

“
Then not another word until I release you. Tonight, I will know every inch of you, how you like to be touched, where you are most easily aroused. Tonight, I will make you want to scream with pleasure.”

Her silk-clad toes curled into the thick carpet. Dizzying need swirled through her. Maddie knew she should protest, but couldn’t find her voice.

“
I want to discover what makes you burn. And where your body needs special attention….” He circled behind her and stooped behind the sofa until his lips rested on the shell of her ear. “Will you be more aroused if I use my hands or my mouth...or both?”

As Brock ran the tip of his tongue around her ear, his words made her dizzy. Arousal coiled tightly in her belly, between her legs. How could she answer that question coherently? Would he truly lick any part of her body he thought needed such a touch? The thought made her clutch the folds of her chemise in white-knuckled anticipation.

Why had she not worn something more substantial?
Would it have stopped him?
Hearing the determined seduction in his tone, Maddie doubted it. He was driven to melt her until she married him.

God give her the strength to resist.

“
Brock, please...” She reached up to lift away the scarf about her head.

He looped his fingers about her wrists. No matter how gentle his grip, he meant to restrain her. His power, the edge of danger, surged passion to her every limb—into her very mind—with insidious insistence. She fell back against the sofa quietly.

Telling herself that she had no choice would be a lie. She wanted this.

His lips glided over the crook of her neck, lingering across her, tasting her. Maddie gasped. Still tingling and shuddering, he nipped with a playful bite. Then a shocking flick of his tongue over that same sensitized flesh made her gasp and burn. Moments later, that need settled between her legs.

“
Which do you like better, Maddie?” he breathed into her ear. “That or this?”

He inched up until his teeth nibbled on her lobe and his hot breath filled her ear. The resulting tingles raced through her body, making her shiver. Though breathless, she managed to bite back a moan.