Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,69
clutched at his jacket, a wave of dizziness washing over her. He planted kisses on her throat and along the length of her jaw before returning his attention to her mouth and then she was drowning in his kiss, opening her lips, inviting him to plunder her mouth, her own tongue tentatively flickering to meet his.
He gave a groan as his arms tightened around her. She was crushed against his body—it was every bit as hard and demanding as she remembered. She wanted to tear at his clothes but instead drove her hands into his hair, revelling in the silky strength of those black locks between her fingers. Her body was on fire, her thighs aching for his touch and when he raised his head she clung to him, trembling. Only his encircling arms prevented her from collapsing in a heap at his feet.
‘Tell me you did not plan this,’ he murmured into her hair.
‘Plan what?’
He laughed softly.
‘You bewitch me.’
Susannah took a few deep breaths and fought to regain control of her unruly body. Not just her body, her mind, too. Jasper spoke of being bewitched. Surely something of that kind had happened to her? This was not normal, rational behaviour.
Steeling herself, she pushed him away. She felt a little unsteady, but her legs did not crumple beneath her.
‘Pray to not think I came up here to, to...’
‘No, I acquit you of that. As you must acquit me of spreading rumours about our impending marriage. But you know, perhaps it is not such an impossible idea.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Perhaps we should marry,’ he said.
‘P-pray do not tease me, my lord.’
‘No, I am in earnest. After forcing you to dine alone with me, then our being together at Florence House, it occurs to me that I should offer you the protection of my name.’ His wicked smile flashed. ‘Especially if we have this effect upon each other.’
Another tremor ran through her, but this time of fear.
‘No. Never.’ She crossed her arms, thoroughly alarmed. ‘Th-this is not natural. It is to be avoided. It leads to, to debauchery and decadence.’
He smiled. ‘I am becoming more enamoured of the idea every minute.’
He reached out for her but she whisked herself away from him, putting her hands on the iron railings behind her for support.
‘No, you have frightened yourself,’ he said gently. ‘These feeling are natural. When we are married you will see—’
‘No! I have made a vow to myself never to marry.’
‘Because of what happened to your sister? It is time to let that go, Susannah. It is time to live your own life.’
She gazed up at him. His words were gentle, but there was something in his eyes, a warm glow that promised much and threatened her self-control. It terrified her. A sudden burst of laughter echoed around them. Jasper looked down into the tea room.
‘The dancing has ended. Everyone is coming in here now. You had best go and find your aunt.’
She took a step away from him.
‘I c-can’t marry you, my lord. I c-can’t...’
‘Yes, you can.’
He reached out and touched her cheek with his fingers. The skin burned, sending white-hot shards of pleasure pulsing through her. Did he not understand this should not be happening to her? She could not allow any man such control over her.
‘I have to leave Bath for a few days,’ he said. ‘There are papers I have to sign at Markham, but I will be back on Wednesday evening. I will call on Thursday and we will discuss it further. You need not fear, everything shall be done properly. I shall ask your aunt for permission to pay my addresses.’
She shivered. It must not happen. She could not live in such a way, turning into a wanton, unrestrained wretch every time he came near her. She knew only too well the pain and heartache she would suffer if she allowed it to continue. Ladies were to be respected, worshipped—the way Gerald respected and worshipped her. Those baser instincts that Jasper unleashed in her must be controlled at all costs. Biting her lip, she began to back away, yet when he put out his hand she gave him hers, trying to ignore the little arrows of desire that darted along her arm as his thumb grazed the soft skin of her wrist.
‘Go now, then. Until Thursday.’
He let her go and she stood irresolute. She wanted to throw herself back into his arms, to surrender to