Wicked in Your Arms (Forgotten Princesses #1)(41)

Frowning, he angled his head, staring at her and trying to decipher her jumble of words. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain yourself. What plans do you speak of?”

She shot him an exasperated look, propping both hands on her hips. “Come. You needn’t play obtuse. I know you intend to elope with Lady Libbie, although why I cannot fathom. I’m sure her father would merrily give his blessing. My guess is that your greedy nature wishes to lay claim to all of Lady Libbie’s bridal settlement without delay so that you can return home. I’ve heard talk that your grandfather is ill.”

He pressed two fingers to his temple as if trying to concentrate. “You make no sense. For starters, what led you to believe that I’m eloping with Lady Libbie?”

Her eyes darkened. “Don’t toy with me. I overheard her talking with her maid about her plans to—”

“Then she was not talking about me. Has that notion not occurred to you?”

She blinked. “You’re the only gentleman even paying court to her here. She’s scarcely spoken to anyone else. Who could it be if not you?”

“I do not know,” he growled, his temper rising now that he realized this was what had gotten her nose out of joint. “I only know it’s not me. Pity.” He shrugged. “I came here to woo her. A wasted trip. I’ll have to begin anew.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re very cold-hearted. Do you not even care that the woman you’ve been courting is plotting to elope with someone else?”

“I care for the delay. Nothing else. I have no emotional attachment to Lady Libbie. I should think you can understand that. Sparks hardly fly through the air between you and the viscount, but word has it that he’s going to make an offer.”

“Is he?” She blinked in such astonishment that he almost regretted telling her. For some reason the thought of the viscount’s hands upon her set his teeth on edge. An untenable reaction. He would have to get accustomed to the notion. If not Tolliver, she would wed someone else.

“Gentlemen talk over cards.” Uncrossing his arms, he advanced on her, backing her deeper into the room, hungry to get at the truth of her reason for seeking him out tonight. “And why was it so important that you sneak onto my balcony to confront me with this?”

If possible, that chin went higher. “I couldn’t let you leave without telling you what I think of you.”

“What you think of me eloping with another woman?” he finished.

She nodded once, the motion jerky. He idly scratched his jaw. “Interesting. And why is that, I wonder?”

She watched him from unblinking eyes as he closed in on her. “I simply wanted to let you know you’re incorrigible, a cad . . . flirting so scandalously with me on the eve of your planned elopement. I didn’t want you to leave without knowing that I know what you are.”

“Ah. A cad. I can see how it would be important to let me know that.” He nodded slowly, feeling alive as he hadn’t in years. Not since before the war . . . when all he concentrated on was basic survival—his own and that of his people. He was coming to revel in his every dialogue with her. His blood pumped faster.

Her face flushed. “You make me sound . . . foolish.”

“I wouldn’t say foolish. Jealous would be more correct.”

“I’m not jealous.” Her eyes followed him like a penned animal. She retreated, gasping when she bumped into the wardrobe.

His smile deepened. She had nowhere to go now. She had to face him—and the truth of what had brought her here. The truth of her desire for him.

“And now that you know I’m not incorrigible? That I did not plan to elope with Lady Libbie.”

Her lashes fluttered. “Yes. I was mistaken.”

His gaze dropped to the madly thumping pulse on her neck.

“I should go,” she whispered weakly.

He lifted one hand, motioning to the empty room around them. “And flee such a perfect opportunity?”

Her gaze sharpened on him. “An opportunity for what?”

He chuckled, dropping his hands on each side of her, effectively caging her in. With a hissed breath, she pressed herself back into the armoire, her head thudding against the rich walnut.

He pressed a soft kiss to the arch of her throat. “An opportunity for this.” He kissed higher. “For this.” He dragged his lips to her ear and kissed just below the tender lobe. “And this.”

She sighed. He barely heard her uttered “No.”

He turned his attention to the other side of her throat. The sweet scent of her skin filled his nostrils, heady and intoxicating. “No? How about here then?” He kissed the side of her neck, lightly grazing his teeth along the stretched cord.

Air escaped her in a hiss. Her hands landed on his shoulders, pressing lightly as though she didn’t know whether to shove him away or pull him closer.

He pulled back to stare down at her. Dropping his head, their foreheads touched. He tasted her warm breath, sipping and savoring it as he struggled for control, consumed with the need to possess her.

“I want you,” he growled fiercely, his hands pushing into the armoire until it creaked beneath the pressure. His throat tightened as he strove to find the words that would persuade her to cast propriety to the wind and fall willingly into his arms . . . into the great four-poster bed mere feet away.