Resuming his seat, he placed her glass into her hands. "Go on. What happened at the hotel?"
Her cheeks flashed a brilliant red, a color that had nothing whatsoever to do with the spirits she had imbibed, he realized.
"He didn't make advances, did he?"
I am the only man allowed to do that, he thought, his jaw clenching. So help me, if Cooke touched her, I'll hunt him down and rip him limb from limb.
A peculiar look crossed her features. "No, he didn't make advances. Not to me."
Thank heaven for that!
She drank again.
A new thought struck him. "If not to you, then … Lord, you didn't walk in on him, did you? Did you catch him with another woman?"
Improbably, her skin flushed an even deeper red, so vivid it looked as if she was standing mere inches from a bonfire.
"Not a woman, no," she whispered. "He … he … "
"He what?" he asked, a sudden speculation beginning to form.
"He was with … a … a man. And they were naked!" She downed more brandy, coughing when she took too hasty a swallow.
Reaching out, he patted her on the back, leaving his hand there to rub in slow, reassuring circles. "Better?"
Nodding, she drew in a deep breath and released a long exhale.
"I'm sure you were shocked," he said.
"Never more in my life."
That I can well believe. Poor girl must have gotten an eyeful.
Still, Jack couldn't help but be relieved to know his rival wasn't really a rival. Then again, from what she'd said, the bounder had proposed marriage to her in spite of his sexual preference.
At least in the essentials, I'm not that much of a fraud, he thought.
Perhaps his motives weren't wholly pure, but with him she would have a real marriage. In his bed, she would be well pleasured and know the full extent of what it meant to be a woman fulfilled. Her father had told him to keep her happy and pregnant, and he vowed suddenly that he would do his best to make good on that promise.
"Well, I am sorry for your distress," he told her, continuing to stroke her back in easy circles. "But I cannot say I regret the outcome. If not for your unexpected discovery, you would not be here with me now." He slid closer. "And I am very glad you are here. I've missed you these last few days."
She met his gaze, her irises looking very blue. "You have?"
"Hmm hmm. What about you?" Lifting his other hand, he traced a finger over one fire-colored eyebrow, then down her cheek and over to her lips. "Did you miss me. Even a little?"
Her eyelids trembled. "Yes. I did miss you. But I-I oughtn't to have. I should go."
"Should you? Why?"
Tiny frown lines appeared. "Because … because … " She paused as though she were searching for a reason and having a hard time finding one. "Because it's getting late and I ought to be returning to the house."
"It's scarcely dinnertime." He skimmed his knuckles over her jaw before roaming lower to the satiny column of her neck, then back up again. "Surely you could stay for dinner? You said yourself your aunt is away. I can't believe you would prefer eating alone."
Her frown increased. "No, but-"
///
"Then stay. My cook sets an excellent table. Delicious fare designed to tempt any palate. Tell me your favorites and I'll send word to her to make them especially for you."
Sliding his arm around her back, he bent and pressed his mouth to the base of her throat. "Do you like roast beef?"
"Ahh, I … "
"Too heavy, you're right," he stated, dropping kisses against her skin in a leisurely pattern. "What about venison? Unless you are worried it might be gamey. Hmm, I agree."
Her eyelids fluttered, one hand coming up to catch in the fabric of his coat.
Working his way up, he paused and breathed a gentle gust of warm, brandy-scented air into her ear. She shuddered, a tiny moan escaping her lips.
"Partridge, perhaps? In a sweet vermouth with plump raisins and orange peel. How does that sound?"
"Delightful."
He smiled, wondering if she was referring to the food or his kisses. He definitely hoped the latter.
"Or I know," he whispered, brushing his mouth ever so lightly against hers. "Lobster and oysters. Light and delicate, with a taste as fresh as the sea. Shall we try that? I could feed them to you bite by delectable bite."
Before she had a chance to answer, he traced the shape of her mouth with his tongue, then slid inside, as her lips parted to receive him. Leaning her back against the sofa pillows, he plundered the sweet, velvety depths of her mouth, exploring with sudden purpose, as well as with undeniable pleasure.
Maybe it was wrong of him, but he sensed he could not afford to let her leave tonight-not without forging a deeper bond between them. And what better way than to complete her seduction? His methods might be a tad unfair given the amount of brandy he'd let her consume, but she was destined to be his, whether she knew it or not.
So why not now?
Why not tonight?
His hand moved to her breast, fingers seeking the sensitive flesh inside her bodice. But as he began to delve beneath, she stiffened slightly and reached to deny him. "I … I thought you said dinner."
"I did. And we'll eat-after a while. We have plenty of time." All night, he thought, taking her mouth with demanding persuasion.
Moments slipped past as she surrendered, responding enthusiastically to his kiss. Then just as suddenly, she groaned and tore herself away. "N-no, stop. I should go. I told you, I have to go."
Pushing against him, she levered herself up and off the sofa. But after no more than a couple of steps, she faltered, weaving in a most alarming way.
Springing up, he hurried forward and reached her just in time to prevent a fall. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against him.
"Stars," she cried, lifting a hand to her head. "I feel so dizzy. It'sh that brandy," she accused in what she obviously wanted to be a stern rebuke. Instead her words came out slurred.
And adorable. She was definitely adorable.
"You've gotten me fosked."
"Foxed, do you mean?" he repeated.
"Yes, fosked. All your fault."
"Not all my fault, since I believe you are the one who insisted on that second glass, if you will recall."
Her brows furrowed in clear confusion. "Oh, you're right. I d-did, d-din't I?"
"Hmm, and so you did."
"I should go home."
He shook his head. "You're in no condition to go home, not right now. I suggest a lie-down for a few hours." Or perhaps the entire night.
"M-maybe just a tiny while," she agreed, trying to pinch her fingers together for illustration, and missing. "In a guest room."
"There are several." But he had no intention of taking her to any of them. She'll sleep in my room. In my bed.
Bending slightly, he slid his arms around her knees and back and lifted her high against him.
Instinctively, her arms curved around his neck. "Are you carrying me?" she asked, her voice holding a note of amazement.
"You appear to be in need of assistance."
"But I must be too heavy. What if you drop me?"
He met the surprised blue of her eyes. "Impossible. You're as light as a feather. You feel just perfect to me, Grace. You are just perfect for me."
And oddly enough, in that moment, he knew that she was. He might not love her, but she would make him a splendid wife. With her, he knew he would always be challenged and would never grow bored. They would make a fine family together, producing strapping dark-haired boys and pretty, long-legged, redheaded girls.
But, he reminded himself, first things first.
Cradling her tighter, he gazed into her eyes. "Ready?"
///
With a tremulous smile, she nodded, then leaned her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh.
Pleased, he turned and strode from the room.
Chapter 10
The sank into an ocean of feathers and satiny dark blue brocade, floating as the room spun slowly around her.
Or perhaps I am the one spinning? Now there was a funny notion. She giggled a little to herself and closed her eyes while she waited for the world to settle back on its proper axis.
A gentle hand stroked her hair, the feathery ocean rolling slightly as someone joined her on the satin counterpane. "Jack?"
"Hmm hmm?" he said in a rich, deep rumble.
She stretched, as comfortable as a cat and half inclined to purr, as his fingers glided over, then into, her hair. He massaged her scalp with the lightest of touches, her tresses coming loose as the pins popped free.