home, but then, none had been as lovely, or as innocent, as Rhianna McLeod.
"Please don't be angry with me, my lord."
Rayven blew out a long breath, then reached for her hands, kissing first one and then the other. "I could never be angry with you. Nor Montroy, either, I suppose. One can hardly blame the man for being attracted to you."
He kissed the back of her right hand again; and then, ever so slowly, he removed the glove from her right hand, bent his head and licked her palm. Rhianna gasped as a rush of potent heat shot up her arm.
Heart pounding, she met his gaze, felt the fire burning in his eyes engulf her. "My lord..."
Slowly, inexorably, he drew her into his arms until his face blotted everything else from her sight. Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed her, his teeth grazing her lips, his tongue exploring the soft inner flesh of her mouth, until she was breathless, almost dizzy from the tumult of emotions swirling through her. Her skin felt tingly, every nerve ending vitally alive.
Hardly aware of what she was doing, she leaned into him, a soft moan rising in her throat as her breasts were crushed against his chest.
"Rhianna, ah, Rhianna." He groaned softly. "Do you know what you're doing to me?" His hands slid up and down her back, erratic as the beating of her heart.
He drew her more fully against him, his lips raining kisses on her eyes, the tip of her nose, the curve of her cheek. His tongue laved her neck, she felt his teeth nibble at her earlobe, then graze the tender flesh beneath her ear.
A low groan rumbled deep in his throat and then, abruptly, he pushed her away.
Dazed, she blinked at him, then leaned toward him, wanting him to kiss her again, to continue the strange magic his touch wrought upon her senses.
"Don't." The tone of his voice had the effect of a slap.
With a muffled cry, she scooted into the corner, her heart pounding wildly - not with desire, but trepidation. What had she done? Why was he looking at her like that, his eyes burning yet cold?
The rest of the journey passed in silence. Rhianna kept her gaze downcast, her hands tightly folded in her lap.
When they reached home, Rayven practically flew out of the carriage. She stared after him, wanting to call him back, but he was swallowed up by the darkness so fast it was almost as if he had vanished completely.
Bevins handed her from the carriage, then preceded her into the castle, lighting the lamps in the downstairs rooms.
"Would you care for a cup of tea, miss?" he asked, "or some cocoa, perhaps?"
"Cocoa, please. I'll take it in the parlor."
"As you wish, miss."
Removing her cloak and remaining glove, Rhianna went into the parlor and sat down on the sofa, trying to comprehend what had happened in the carriage. She was new to desire, but certainly she had not been mistaken in thinking Rayven wanted her. Heaven knew she had wanted him, would have surrendered her virtue there, in the carriage, had he not thrust her away. Had she done something to displease him, and if so, what?
"Would you care for a fire, miss?" Bevins asked. He handed her a cup of hot chocolate.
"Yes, please. It's quite chilly in here."
Bevins nodded, then turned away to see to the fire.
"Has Lord Rayven come in yet?" she asked.
"No, miss. I shouldn't wait up for him if I were you."
"Do you know where he's gone?"
Bevins hesitated. "No, miss. Will that be all?"
"Yes, Bevins. Thank you."
"Good night, then."
"Good night."
Staring into the flames, Rhianna sipped the cocoa, feeling it relax her. Funny how life turned out, she mused. She had been afraid to come to this place, afraid to leave home, afraid of Rayven, yet all her fears had proven groundless. There was nothing to fear in the castle. She had food to eat and beautiful clothes to wear. She had learned to read and write, to appreciate poetry, to play the pianoforte, to paint.
Even her fear of Rayven had been unjustified. Until the last few weeks, she had hardly seen him at all.
Sometimes, it seemed as though he were afraid of her.
Putting the cup aside, she tucked her feet beneath her. Why had Rayven brought her here? If he didn't want her for his mistress or a housemaid, what did he want her for? So far, she had done nothing to earn the money he had paid for