Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,76
rapidly.
‘Did you accept him to escape from me?’ When she did not reply he continued, ‘So that’s it. You are afraid of what is between us—’
‘There is nothing between us!’
He took the fan from her and threw it down on the chair. Before she could protest he pulled her into his arms and kissed her savagely. Immediately her body sprang to life. The blood not only pulsed, it positively sang in her veins. She knew she must not give in. She put her hands on his chest, resisting the impulse to cling to his coat.
‘Tell me you feel nothing for me.’ His breath was hot on her neck as he covered her skin with kisses, each one burning even further through the defences she had erected. ‘Tell me you do not want to lie here with me now and let me make love to you.’
With a superhuman effort she pushed herself away from him.
‘That is desire, my lord, but it is not love.’
He towered over her, his face in shadow and his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath.
‘If it is love to know I cannot live without you, that every day we are apart is a day in hell then, yes, Susannah, I love you.’
Lies, said the voice in her head. He is a seducer. He will say anything to bend you to his will.
She backed away, the pain of the separation tearing at her skin.
‘Well, I do not love you.’
The words fell like lead weights into the silence between them.
‘Do you love Gerald?’
She hesitated.
‘We have mutual affection and respect. Love will follow.’
‘Are you sure, Susannah?’ He was closing in again, and once more desire and panic warred within her. ‘Are you sure it won’t be boredom that will follow? Dull complacency?’
She gave a sob.
‘You do not understand. I am safe with Gerald. I can live my life in comfort, I will not be forever wondering if he is faithful to me, I will not risk...’ she turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears as she forced out the final words ‘...breaking my heart.’
Silence. Susannah could hear only the ticking of the clock. Surreptitiously she wiped away a rogue tear.
‘Ah.’ He uttered the word like a sigh. ‘I would offer you my hand, my heart, my life, Susannah, but there is an element of risk in all things. This passion we feel for one another may burn out, though I do not believe it. You would have to trust me on that, but you have never trusted any man, have you?’
‘Men in the grip of passion are unreliable,’ she muttered. ‘Even my own father, though he swore he loved my mother and came crawling back, begging for forgiveness on more than one occasion.’
‘I cannot argue against that,’ he said quietly. ‘I know some men are feckless creatures, but not all of us. However, if you would rather have Barnabus—
‘He loves me!’
‘Then let us hope that is enough for both of you, and that I have been mistaken in my own feelings.’ He walked to the door. ‘Goodbye, Susannah. I will not trouble you again.’
He went out, the door closing behind him. The emptiness and silence pressed in on her. Susannah felt then that she had lost something in her life. As though some prop, something necessary to her comfort, had been taken away.
Chapter Fourteen
Jasper did not go back upstairs. He was in no mood for company so he let himself out of the house and walked back to his hotel. He was promised to escort the dowager to the Abbey in the morning, but after that he would quit Bath. He had spent far too long here already and there was work on his estates that needed his attention. That should help to keep his mind from dwelling on Susannah Prentess. He should be glad to be leaving her behind. He had found her a patroness for Florence House, he had even endured an uncomfortable night in a chair there, to say nothing of slaving away in the kitchen to feed everyone, and for what? She was not even grateful. He shook his head and swung his cane at a clump of weeds pushing up at the roadside. He did not want her gratitude, he wanted to protect her, to make her comfortable—to make her happy. And if that meant he had to disappear from her life then so be it.