Treacherous Temptations(30)

“Desire is oblivious to time and place, dear Mary; and Jenny, bless her, is the very soul of discretion. I want you, Mary. Please trust me, my sweet. Let me show you the ways of love.”

She stared back at him, her body filled with the want he had described, but common sense held her surrender at bay. “Love? Don’t speak of love to me. You describe meaningless pleasure. It has nothing to do with love!”

He gave her a roguish smile. “Pleasure is never meaningless, my sweet.”

“Nevertheless, you cannot convince me that the mere joining of two bodies is love.”

“No? Is not worship a display of adoration, Mary? Even the holy mother church would agree with that. And is not adoration one of the many facets of love? Sexual congress is the highest possible form of worship between a man and a woman, and is therefore indisputably an act of love.”

“I’ll allow that you display an impressive talent in the manipulation of words.”

“What else would you have me call it, Mary? Fornication is such an ugly term.”

“But a spade is a spade after all,” she retorted. “I would rather have honesty. If it is purely physical pleasure, call it thus. I would rather you spoke truth with candor than your perfidy with pretty lies.”

He laughed outright. “You would have honesty, sweet Mary? Most women prefer nothing better than wicked whispers and pretty lies. Playing along with a seduction is a widely accepted pretext for forfeiting virtue.”

Mary gazed at him solemnly. “If I were to forfeit my virtue, it would be by my deliberate choice, and not under some devious pretext like seduction. I don’t look for excuses for my decisions. I take responsibility for my actions—whether for better or ill, and cannot respect those who do not.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. His gaze softened. “You are a priceless gem and unlike any woman I’ve ever known. If you thought to put me off, you have failed for I only desire you even more. I will have you, Mary. I will make you mine.”

The dull throb that had afflicted her from the very moment his lips met hers had spread until her entire body thrummed with the desire to succumb to him. Oh, how she wanted to; for she was so stupidly and dangerously infatuated. Mary struggled to quash those feelings, reminding herself what ruin she courted.

“Please no. I can’t! I am to be wed. I won’t bring shame upon myself or my future husband.”

“Yes, indeed,” he mocked. “The as-yet-nameless-faceless bridegroom.”

“You know I have no choice in that!”

“But there you are wrong, my dear. One always has choices.” He stretched out his hand, his voice velvety smooth and so very seductive. “Such as your choice to give yourself to me.”

“No.” She extricated herself and backed away with newfound resolution. “You seem to think you can bend me to your will, but you cannot. It is not your decision but mine, and I won’t let you ruin me only for your pleasure.”

She pushed away in a need to escape temptation, wading and splashing to the edge of the pool, only to realize there was no way out. The water that only reached his chest was above her shoulders, weighing her down, and there was no step or other means by which she could hoist herself up. He had followed, his big body forming a wall in front of her. She quivered with apprehension of his hands, his mouth, of any part of him, for she knew she couldn’t resist again. But there was nowhere to go with the stone edge of the pool boring into her back.

“Please don’t touch me again,” she begged. “I need to get out. Now.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible, my pet, unless I lift you out…but that necessitates my hands on your person.” He shook his head slowly. “No, my dear, I fear I can’t help you without touching you.”

“Can you not make a step for me with your leg?”

“My ever sensible and resourceful Mary,” he chuckled and bent his knee to do as she requested.

Mary placed her foot on his thigh, grasped the granite edge of the pool, and pulled herself half out of the water, only to have her foot slip. She came back down to straddle the hard thigh she had just stepped upon.

“Now this is quite an interesting dilemma.” he purred. Hooking an arm about her waist, he located the hollow behind her ear, lavishing it with his hot tongue. “Do you still want me to release you? Is that what you think you want, Mary?” He deliberately shifted his thigh between her legs. It was the most indescribable friction—equal parts pleasure and agony. “Or shall I show you the kind of release you truly crave?” He slid a hand up her thigh, smooth and slick beneath the water.

Dear God, was this inescapable? She closed her eyes on the portentous thought.

He had surely set out to ruin her. But why? Did it even matter anymore? If he wished to force her hand into marriage, would that be such a bad thing? Mary shocked herself with the realization that she wanted him. It was a dangerous and ludicrous infatuation that would only lead to heartache. Still, she wondered if she would ever be able to bear the thought of kissing, or far worse, of wedding, anyone else.

But Sir Richard would never approve of him, and moreover, Hadley had spoken nothing of marriage—only of lust and desire. Was this entire outing only intended as an amusing interlude to him? Was she just a dalliance, a way to idle his time?

Myriad reasons to flee flooded her brain, but when he suckled her neck and his hand sought the throbbing space between her legs, all reason took flight.