The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(28)

“Of course it does. I appear to be a weak man where you’re concerned, unable to control myself, forced to resort to desperate measures, including abandonment of my manners and regard for you by hurling childish insults. Take now, for instance. You’ve threatened to scream and mete out an injury to my person if I kiss you, but I’m compelled to do it anyway because you’re close enough to smell, so close I can feel the warmth of your body, so close, it would be really very foolish of me not to kiss you.”

And so he did. She didn’t slap him, nor did she scream.

His lips met hers and within seconds, he recalled quite clearly why he’d been compelled to ravish her, against his better judgment, almost against his will. She was the essence of vitality, of throbbing, pulsing life, her body an endless, unexplored frontier of soft curves and intriguing scents. She quivered beneath his hands, ever so slightly, as though her very soul shook with passion and desire. He parted his lips and touched hers with his tongue.

She drew back slightly and whispered, “Promise you won’t lecture me.”

“Let me in, Jane,” he commanded, slanting his mouth across hers, plunging into her moist heat, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth, kissing her as no gentleman ever kisses a lady. If passion was what she expected, he would give it to her, consequences be damned. He carefully ignored the voice in his head that told him he was powerless to respond to her in any way less than unbridled passion. As he lifted his head and looked down into her dark-blue eyes, her lids heavy with desire, he couldn’t help but compare her to his first three wives. Bedding them had been almost as painful for him as it had been for them. They stoically waited for him to finish and he felt a brute, had even apologized to Grace, for she cried into her pillow, every single time.

He suspected Lady Jane wouldn’t cry unless she failed to climax, and even then, he’d be the one most likely to cry. She’d surely unman him.

As his hands fell away from her shoulders and his arms went round her to draw her against him, her arms circled his neck and she gave as good as she got, opening her mouth to him, returning his kiss with a fervor that made a lie of her insistence that she was done with him.

She was far from done with him, and he was only just beginning with her.

“I won’t wait a month, Jane,” he murmured against her mouth. “This afternoon, I’ll acquire a special license and we’ll be married tomorrow morning. Is this acceptable to you?”

“Hmm, yes, good . . . fine . . . ” She tangled her fingers in his hair, knocking his hat off as she kissed him. After a time, she drew back and looked into his eyes. “You will agree, then, to keep me with you, to stay in my bed, to engage in a true marriage?”

She had to marry him. There was no other choice. He ignored the voice in his head telling him he could, indeed, find another bride. She might be of common stock, perhaps not quite fit to be a duchess, but she’d do. The singular drawback to any other woman was simply that she would not be Jane. With her there, in his arms, her lips plump and pink and wet from his kiss, he knew it had to be Jane. He would figure a way out of the agreement, could, perhaps, convince her it was in her best interest to live apart from him. Later. He’d wait until she conceived and worry about it then. Staring into her lovely eyes, he murmured, “Yes, Jane, I’ll agree.”

Her response was a blinding smile and another kiss that completely silenced the distant howling in his soul. After a time, she pulled back a bit and grinned cheekily. “Blixford, how very odd it will be to see you without your clothes.”

Michael raised a brow. “I daresay I’ll enjoy seeing your naked body far more than you’ll enjoy mine. You are grace and beauty and mystery, while I . . .” He shook his head. “Men, I’m afraid, are rather awkward. I shall try not to frighten you, Jane.”

“Don’t be absurd. The only oddity to seeing you naked will simply be that you are naked. You are something of a stick, you know, and oh-so-proper in your manner and dress. I wouldn’t want you to be offended if I wonder at the peculiarity of it all.”

Humor disappeared and he snatched her close again. “Appearances can be deceiving, Jane. Never make assumptions based upon the face one shows the world. Tomorrow night, you’ll tell me if you still believe me to be a stick.”

“And you will tell me if you still believe me a hoyden.”

“A fair trade. Consider it done.” He kissed her once more before he replaced her bonnet and his hat, gathered the reins and released the brake. As he turned about and drove from the clearing, he said, “I believe we may enjoy certain elements of married life, Lady Jane, don’t you?”