One Night With You (The Derrings #3)(43)

Words burned on the tip of her tongue.

What are you doing here?

Why did you come?

Only no sound emerged. She simply stared, watching, waiting, her pulse fluttering madly at her neck. Her hand flew there, pressing the warm flesh as if she could still the frantic tempo. Chloris was the first to speak. Clearing her throat, she greeted with false cheer, "Lord St. Claire. How lovely of you to call."

Seth's gaze shifted, landing on Jane with a burning intensity that trapped her breath in her chest, pinning her to the spot. "I've come to collect Jane."

Collect Jane. Her hackles rose. She was not a parcel to be fetched. Her chin lifted. He did not miss the gesture. His eyes darkened, the centers glowing fire. The corners of his mouth lifted in a mocking semblance of a smile. "Isn't that so, Jane?"

Chloris saved her from replying. "Indeed?" Gathering a fistful of muslin, she rose, simultaneously gripping Jane's hand. Her cold fingers circled Jane's wrist, pulling her free of Desmond. "We will leave you gentlemen alone. Come along Jane." Jane twisted free, determined to remain.

"Jane," Seth's voice, deep and potent, stroked some place deep inside her. As if pulled by an invisible thread, she moved to his side, recognizing the significance of doing so. She had finished running. From him. From herself.

Come what may, they were bound. Even before their night in the garden. She saw that now. Now she understood. Seth had never left her. He was in her blood.

She stopped beside him, pressing her palms to her sides in an effort to still their trembling. Seth brought his hand to the small of her back and she jumped at the contact. The feather-soft brush of his fingers singed her through her clothing, reminding her of the fire found in his caress.

"He's the one," Desmond's voice, rough and strangled as if he fought for breath, broke through her thoughts. Judging from his ruddy face, his breath was not the only thing lost to him. Hot words tumbled from his mouth. "He's the one you let crawl beneath your skirts." Chloris made a sound, a tiny mewl through her fingers as she shook her head. Seth's lips tightened. A muscle flexed in his cheek, making his scar jump as if it lived, breathed, a serpent writhing upon his face. His eyes changed, gleaming as dark as a fathomless cave.

"Have a care Billings," he warned, his words dropping like stones in the thick air. "This can be easy or hard. Either way, she's leaving with me."

Her blood pumped so loudly in her ears she felt certain the others in the room could hear it.

"Like hell she is," Desmond bit out, pointing a reed-thin finger at his side. As if she were a dog to be ordered about, he commanded, "Jane, come."

Dark fury spiraled through her. All her life she had done what others expected, what others wanted. And what had it gotten her? Parents who cared nothing for her? A faithless husband?

Relations that ran roughshod over her? She gave her head a small shake. No more. She breathed in through her nostrils, drawing the air deep into her lungs. Her single night with Seth had been her one self-indulgence. And for that, she could not summon forth a scrap of regret. Even as her head told her she should feel the deepest shame, her heart could not. She was done doing as others wanted, finished putting herself last. If she had considered herself first, perhaps she would have told Seth how she felt for him all those years ago. Before Madeline sank her claws into him. Before he set sail. Before she married Marcus and put to death dreams of love and happily ever after.

Shaking her head, she banished what if from her head. That road only led to madness. Compelled to stand on her own, to start living for herself, she stepped away from Seth's side and approached Desmond.

Crossing her arms over her chest in an unladylike pose, she declared, "I will not." Desmond drew nearer. Still, she did not shrink away. Not even when he stopped before her, eyes glasslike and unblinking.

"Jane," he said, his voice low with warning, soft with threat. "Don't do something you'll regret. Tell this"—his devil's gaze cut to Seth—"tell St. Claire here you're not going anywhere with him."

"My only regret would be staying another night under this roof." His eyes flashed with a desperate fury and he snatched hold of her arm. She stifled her wince.

"You heard her," Seth cut in behind her. "Let her go." Chloris must have recognized how near her husband was to losing control. "For God's sake, Desmond, unhand her," she hissed.

Desmond shook his head in savage denial.

"I advise you to listen to your wife," Seth bit out, the hard edge of his voice scraping her frayed nerves as he stepped alongside her, his body humming with tension.

As if he hadn't heard a word, Desmond's fingers dug deeper into her arm. "Whore," he hissed,

"This isn't—"

Seth shot from behind her, his fist connecting with Desmond's face in a blur of movement. Desmond collapsed on the carpet with a thud, his spindly legs stretched before him. Eyes bulging, he cupped his nose, blood seeping steadily between his fingers as he sprawled on the floor. Chloris shrieked and crouched down beside her husband.

"It's finished," Seth ground out. "Understand?"

Desmond nodded mutely, his dazed expression leaving Jane to wonder if he in fact did. Grunting, Chloris tugged him to his feet. Glaring at Seth, she spat, "You animal! Take her. Take her and go." Her eyes scoured Jane with loathing as she dragged Desmond alongside of her.