Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(47)
“What is not proper is what went through your mind at my words. Do you think I do not notice when your breathing grows rapid and your eyes grow wide? You very much like the idea of being bound to my bed.”
“I cannot believe we are talking of this here.” She glanced about to see if anyone was listening. Lord Temple had moved closer than she liked, but did not appear to be paying them mind. “You seem to think that I like everything. I am not at all sure you are right.” Actually she was very much afraid that he might be, but it would be a long time before she would ever admit to such feelings. “And lastly, even if you were right and I did find such an idea intriguing, what makes you think it would be your bed I would be bound to?”
He leaned closer so that his voice was little more than a whisper. “You can be very sure, my dear, that it will be my bed that you are bound to. I might kill any other man who had such thoughts about you—much less put them into action.” For some reason his eyes darted to Lord Temple.
Had her thoughts been that clear? She really had only meant to kiss the man.
She tried to collect herself. “There you go, trying to control me. I don’t see that this is any way to persuade me that I wish to wed you and it certainly is not helping me find a husband.” She was just about sputtering with emotion by the end of the sentence. If she focused on anger she might be able to put aside the other feelings that were raging through her body. Yes, focus on anger—whether real or not.
“I do apologize. You are correct. I must be more helpful with your quest. And I promise that should you wed another man I will not kill him for what you do within your marital bed. As for as my own suit, however, I do believe I should be honest about what you will get with me as your husband, and if you do not like it you should stop flushing in such a becoming manner when I give any type of command.”
And she felt the flush rise upon her cheeks yet again. What was it about the man? She’d never responded to anyone else in such a manner. “I am in need of refreshment. Fetch me some lemonade.”
“Now who’s trying to take command?” He laughed and for a moment she was afraid he would pat her head. “I will allow it—for now. You do look as if you could use a cooling drink. Feeling a little hot and bothered, are you? Perhaps that is the reason for your temper. Have you not enjoyed your punishment?”
She would not deign to answer that. “I am waiting for my drink.”
He laughed again and then with a slight bow of the head and a “Yes, my lady” turned to get the drink.
It was her chance. Despite his protestations of wishing to help her, it was becoming very clear that she would never find a husband while he hovered about. Keeping her eyes on him, she sidestepped backward behind a group of older matrons and then slipped out into the hall. She paused then. The choices available were limited—the gardens, the retiring room, or, if she were truly daring, the gentlemen’s card room. The thought caused her lips to quiver. Such thoughts were exactly how she had gotten into this situation.
The ladies’ retiring room offered respite, but she might be trapped there. The gardens were not a choice. She was not risking a repeat of her past two garden experiences. But where did that leave her? The library? She almost laughed at the thought. There might be some unused parlor left empty, but that would hardly help her find a potential husband and the more she argued with Duldon the more determined she became to prove he was not her only choice.
Chapter Twelve
She’d slipped from his sight again. Damn the girl. Duldon knew Bliss was avoiding him on purpose. He’d known it when he left to fetch her lemonade, but he’d gone anyway. Her need for some control in her life was clear, and he had no desire to hinder her—not completely, or at least only in certain circumstances. The image of her spread across the wide bed at Ruby’s, hands and feet constrained, filled his mind. He shook his head to clear it of images of pale velvet skin and black silk bonds.
He looked again about the ballroom. Where was she?
It had not occurred to him that she’d actually manage to hide. He stared out into the dark gardens and wondered. He’d done a quick stroll through, and only disturbed one couple, but unless Bliss was hiding under a bush or a bench she was not there. The Milburnes’ gardens were not large and offered few hidden spots. He doubted it would be possible to do more than sneak a quick kiss without being disturbed.
So where was she? This was a much smaller affair, and house, than the Evanstons’, and there weren’t a lot of choices.
Turning, and giving one last gaze out over the shadows and lanterns that displayed the rich greens and delicate night blooms, he strode back to the ballroom. Bliss had been wearing yellow, and not the color of sunflowers or butter, but a yellow that screamed its very existence. It should have been impossible to miss. There was one young woman dressed in a light primrose yellow and one dressed in a shade of deep sunshine. Nowhere, however, was there a yellow that could mark only a child’s toy or a fishing bobber.
Nodding greetings to the Millers and the Bobsons, he hurried past before he could be asked for advice on the latest bills in parliament or on the new corn crops that were supposed to weather drought. Slipping up the stairs, he paused at the door leading to the ladies’ retiring room. It would be unlike Bliss to cower away from him, but over these last days he’d learned that it was very like Bliss to act unlike herself, and if that wasn’t a contradiction he didn’t know what was.