I can now understand why the marquess makes women swoon, but falling in love with him-or any other man-is anathema to me.
– Lily to her sisters
If Lily hoped to avert any more perilous encounters with Heath in the near future, her desire was thwarted that evening when Fleur pointed out that their pupils needed a real live gentleman upon whom to practice their newfound social skills.
As long as he was beleaguering her, Lily decided, she might as well put her unwanted suitor to good use. Thus, she swallowed her disquiet and sent Heath a message at his London town house, enlisting his aid for a class at ten o’clock the next morning.
By surrounding herself with the other boarders, Lily persuaded herself, and avoiding being alone with him, she stood a better chance of resisting him.
She should have realized her ambition was wishful thinking. Seeing Heath so soon after her stunning carnal experience with him brought a host of sensual memories cascading into her mind and body. And although she determinedly pretended disinterest upon greeting him, she couldn’t forget a single sensation of yesterday’s erotic interlude: The play of rippling chest muscles against her palms. The feel of his hard, powerful body beneath her. The heat of his mouth as he suckled her nipples. The stunning firestorm he had started inside her…
She now understood firsthand why women leaped into his bed and fought for his favor.
Fortunately Fleur and Chantel were there to take the lead in their class, introducing Lord Claybourne to the girls and setting the scene for the upcoming soiree.
Lily hadn’t expected his impact to be so remarkable, however. She watched as Heath effortlessly charmed the entire gathering of females, putting them at ease and making them laugh. By the end of the session, they were practically swooning over him. Yet he parried Ada Shaw’s brazen overtures expertly and fended off Sally Nead’s flirtation good-naturedly.
He could woo the birds out of their trees, Lily thought morosely.
It was his effort with shy Peg Wallace, however, that warmed her heart. Peg’s timidity melted under his gentle attentions, and Lily felt compelled to thank him for his kindness when the class ended.
She did so by drawing Heath aside a little way. “I think it only fitting,” she added reluctantly, “that Fleur award you another point for helping our pupils today.”
“Are you certain you wish to be so generous?” he asked, his sensual lips uptilting in amusement. “With the point they granted me for your fencing lesson yesterday, that will bring my total to seven. At this rate, I may very well win our game.”
Lily winced. She most certainly did not want him to win the right to extend his courtship for three more endless months. But she felt she needed to be fair. “You deserve to be rewarded in this instance.”
“I am willing to exchange some points if you will accompany me to a play at Drury Lane this evening.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his persistence. She had no doubt that his invitation to the theater was a ploy to get her alone in an even more intimate setting. “Sadly, I must decline. I don’t wish to be seen in public with you, remember? Besides, you have already used up your allotted time with me today.”
He gave her a smile of heart-stopping charm. “I had to try. Then I will see you tomorrow at Lady Freemantle’s garden party? I would offer my escort, but I suspect it is too much to ask for you to ride with me in my carriage.”
“Thank you, but I am riding with Fanny,” Lily was glad to say. Chiswick was some half dozen miles from London’s Mayfair district, and under no circumstances did she want to be alone with Heath for so long. Just standing this close to him in a roomful of people was unsettling enough.
And a new tension filled her stomach when he brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her fingers.
Lily forced herself to remain calm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had so much power over her. But when he took his leave, she stood there for a deplorably long moment afterward, feeling the warm tingling in her fingers where his lips had brushed.
When Saturday dawned cool and cloudy, Lily hoped the rain would hold off for Winifred’s garden party. After conducting morning classes for the academy, she donned a fashionable gown of pale green sprigged muslin with a matching bonnet for the occasion.
Fanny was dressed even more stylishly, Lily saw when the carriage arrived to pick her up, no doubt in order to face the supercilious gentry who were sure to attend.
But the guests were not Fanny’s chief concern; instead it was Mick O’Rourke.
“I wrote a long letter to him, explaining our plan to repay the debt,” Fanny told Lily as soon as they were on their way, “but I never received a reply. I admit it worries me.”
“Do you expect him to retaliate for what I did the other day?” Lily asked, frowning.
“I don’t know. It’s possible he is waiting for me to come to him on bended knee to beg him to relent.”
“You should not have to prostrate yourself before him,” Lily declared militantly. “Especially when the debt is not even yours.”
“I know. But I may have no choice if he wants his money at once.”
Lily’s frown deepened. “If you like, I can sound out Winifred this afternoon to see if she would be willing to contribute the funds immediately.”
“You might mention it to gain a feel for her willingness,” Fanny replied. “But hopefully, after the soiree on Monday we won’t need her financial backing.”
They spoke about preparations for the soiree then, and discussed last-minute details. Fanny intended to send her dresser to the boardinghouse to help the girls with their gowns and hair, and Lily wanted her three favorites to have special attention to improve their chances of landing new patrons.
When she and Fanny arrived at Freemantle Park, Lily found her sisters already there before her, on the terrace overlooking the magnificent gardens. Immediately upon spying her, Arabella and Roslyn left the gathering to embrace her warmly. And after a fond reunion with Fanny, they drew Lily inside to a quiet parlor so they could have some privacy.
Lily was rather surprised to discover how fervently glad she was to see her sisters. They had written to each other frequently in the past weeks since Arabella’s wedding, but it wasn’t the same as being able to talk and laugh together in person. Moreover, a good deal had happened since then. Particularly Roslyn’s betrothal to the Duke of Arden.
Arabella looked beautiful and sophisticated as usual, Lily thought, but Roslyn’s pale golden beauty was even more exquisite since she was positively glowing.
“Are you certain you have made the right choice about marrying Arden, Rose?” Lily asked once the elementary details had been recounted. “You still have time to change your mind. There are ten more days before your wedding, when your decision becomes irreversible.”
Roslyn smiled wryly while Arabella laughed.
“That is exactly the attitude we expected from you, dearest Lily,” Arabella said. “We know how much you despise the very thought of marriage. But Roslyn has always been more open to the idea than either you or I.”
Because Roslyn had not been witness to their father’s physical brutality as she had, Lily thought to herself. Nor had Roslyn been forsaken by a fiance who professed to love her, as Arabella had been during her first betrothal.
“I must say you seem happy, Rose,” Lily admitted.
Roslyn’s smile softened. “Ecstatically so. What about you, Lily? Are you happy, living in London with Fanny’s friends and boarders?”
“Yes, indeed,” she answered truthfully. “It is extremely fulfilling, being able to teach those women and improve their self-esteem. I can actually see them blossom day by day. They are far more eager to learn than our students at the Freemantle Academy ever were. Possibly because they know how hard life can be, having to earn their own livings instead of being born to wealth and comfort.”
“So what about Lord Claybourne?” Arabella wanted to know.
“What about him?” she hedged.
“How is your courtship progressing? I doubt you welcomed his romantic attentions.”
“Of course not. I am only enduring him so he will bring some suitable gentlemen to the soiree on Monday evening.”
“But Claybourne is a delightfully charming man,” Roslyn pointed out. “Clever and quick-witted and charismatic. I should think you would find the challenge he presents at least a little exciting.”
Lily couldn’t deny that Heath was dynamic and exciting. Around him she felt exhilarated, her wits and senses alive and on full alert. And since he’d begun his pursuit, her life was far livelier than it had ever been.
Which was what made him so dangerous. If she felt this way about him after less than a week, how could she fight her deplorable attraction to him if he actually won their game?
“Perhaps, but I won’t even consider accepting his proposal. I am perfectly content as I am. Especially now that I’ve begun to reconsider my future. I want to find a way to aid women like our boarders. To help them seek better lives.”
“That is certainly an admirable goal,” Roslyn remarked, “but helping indigent women and having a husband are not mutually exclusive.”
Lily eyed her sisters with growing impatience. “If you mean to quiz me so relentlessly about Lord Claybourne, I think I will leave.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Arabella chided amiably. “It is just that we both fell in love with our ideal mates, and we want you to have the same chance at happiness. You should at least give Claybourne’s courtship a chance.”
Lily shook her head adamantly. She never wanted to fall in love, and she never wanted to marry. She had vowed never to let any man have such irrevocable power over her, and she wouldn’t change her long-held beliefs simply because one possessed a nearly irresistible charm.
“I cannot trust him enough,” Lily said simply.
“He may be nothing like our father. Marcus certainly isn’t.”
“Nor is Drew,” Roslyn chimed in. “Lord Claybourne seems nothing like Papa, Lily.”
No, Heath seemed very different, Lily acknowledged. She could see the kindness in him, the gentleness, the humor. And he hadn’t tried to control her or dictate to her, the way their father had ruthlessly done their mother. Nor had he physically threatened her. Instead he had protected and defended her-
“I cannot imagine that you are afraid of him, Lily,” Arabella commented thoughtfully.
No, it was her response to him that made her afraid. She was frightened of the desire he made her feel. She had never wanted that kind of intimacy with a man, but now she found herself thinking of it constantly.
The irony was almost amusing. Just a few short months ago, she had warned Arabella about giving in to Marcus’s masculine allure. But now she understood the powerful temptation her sister had faced.
“You really should not condemn all men simply because of what Papa did”-Arabella smiled ruefully-“even though I felt exactly that way before I fell in love with Marcus. I know many noblemen have been raised to be selfish and uncaring, and such men are not even capable of love, but Claybourne could prove to be another exception.”
Lily had no idea if Heath was capable of love. She had seen glimpses of his magnanimity in the past few days-although that could be merely because he was trying to win their game.
But the state of his heart didn’t matter to her in the least, she reminded herself, stiffening her spine. “Belle, I truly don’t wish to discuss this any further.”
Her eldest sister pressed her lips together, as if wanting to argue, but then her expression softened. “You are right, of course. You must discover love on your own, Lily. So we won’t push you any further. But you do realize that Winifred is still set on matchmaking? She knows all about Claybourne’s courtship of you.”
Lily’s brow furrowed. “How did she find out?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps he told her.”
It would be just like him to secure Winifred as an ally, Lily thought in exasperation.
“Regardless of Winifred’s intentions,” Roslyn interrupted, “we should rejoin her party. You haven’t met Constance yet, Lily, or the children. You will love the children, I’m sure.”
From Roslyn’s letters, she had heard the remarkable story of how Winifred had taken in her late husband’s mistress and three illegitimate children. In fact, the garden party was being held in honor of Constance Baines, to introduce her to the local gentry. Reportedly Constance was almost completely recovered from the grave illness that had nearly taken her life.
“I very much want to meet them,” Lily said, linking arms with both her sisters. “And I brought the children presents, Rose, so I can spoil them as you suggested.”
Roslyn’s laughter was soft and tender. “They desperately need a bit of spoiling, they’ve had so little of it in their lives.”
Lily was more than happy to focus all of her attention on coming to know Constance and the children this afternoon, since it would give her an excuse to avoid a particular charming nobleman. But as soon as she stepped out on the terrace, she spied Heath with his two close friends, the Earl of Danvers and the Duke of Arden.
Like Heath, they were strikingly handsome aristocrats, with the virile look of avid sportsmen. The duke was darkly blond, his tall frame one of lithe elegance, while Marcus had ebony hair and a more powerful physique than Arden. But they each had eyes only for their ladies; it was clear they cherished Arabella and Roslyn dearly.
Heath, Lily noticed, was regarding her with a gleam of interest in his own eyes. Deplorably, her heart gave a leap of delight when she met his gaze, so she turned away quickly and detoured toward her friend Tess, who was talking and laughing with a small group of youngsters.
She would have to do much better, Lily scolded herself, if she hoped to get through the afternoon unscathed.
She did indeed relish meeting Constance and her three children.
Constance was a beautiful woman, although she still possessed the pallor of an invalid. And her two young daughters, Sarah and Daisy, showed signs of becoming just as lovely someday.
Her sixteen-year-old son, Benjamin, was less refined, with the strong, wiry build of a boy who’d been employed in menial labor for much of the past four years.
Ben pretended nonchalance at being in such illustrious company, but the little girls were dancing with excitement at attending their first party, anticipating the treats they’d been promised. Winifred had arranged for them to taste ices for the first time and to enjoy various entertainments and games. Later, they would take rowboats out on the ornamental lake under adult supervision.
Several other children had been invited to provide company for the Baines offspring, and Lily willingly volunteered to assist Tess in taking command of the infant troop.
Thus, for the first hour she managed to keep her distance from Heath while she played Pall Mall on the side lawn with Sarah and Daisy, showing them the art of hitting the wooden ball through a wicket with a mallet.
When they moved back to the gardens for a game of hide-and-seek, however, she couldn’t help but notice Heath. There was a genteel crowd of more than a hundred guests, and Lord Claybourne was clearly a favorite among them, with his charming manner and easy smile.
It surprised Lily immensely, then, when he left his peers to join her and the children.
“Lady Freemantle has recruited me to organize the boating,” he informed her.
Lily cast her friend a narrow-eyed glance across the gardens before responding to Heath’s casual remark. “It is an obvious ploy to throw us together.”
“Naturally. She is well aware that you’ve been avoiding me ever since you arrived.”
“Well, you needn’t make such a sacrifice. Surely you cannot have any interest in taking children on boat rides.”
“Oh, but I can. Especially if it will allow me to share your enchanting company.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but Heath appeared to be entirely serious about his desire to entertain the children. He enlisted Benjamin Baines as his chief assistant and corralled the others to follow him through the gardens and across the elegant lawns down to the lake.
Several of the adults joined in the fun, so five boats were soon being filled with the assistance of several strapping Freemantle footmen. Lily stood on shore, helping the passengers settle into their seats, and then watched the ensuing laughter and gaiety as they ventured out onto the water.
It amazed her to observe Heath with the children. He was just as congenial and charming with the youngsters as he had been with her academy pupils. Sarah and Daisy in particular were spellbound by his presence as he rowed them back and forth across the lake and patiently showed them how to man the oars.
Winifred came up to Lily just then and wrapped her in a fond embrace before drawing back to scold her. “I have a serious bone to pick with you, my girl. What do you mean, haring off to London so that delightful marquess couldn’t find you? It was very bad of you to deceive us that way.”
Lily smiled affectionately. “You know your scheming drove me to it, Winifred.”
“Pah,” the plump, matronly lady retorted. “I had only your best interests at heart-and I still do. You led Claybourne on a wild-goose chase. I expect you to make it up to him.”
“What do you mean?” Lily asked warily.
“You must allow him to give you a boat ride after the children are done, just the two of you. It will be quite romantic”-she gestured at the lovely landscape-“in this idyllic setting.”
“Winifred-”
“I insist.”
When Lily scowled, Winifred held up a hand. “Very well, I know better than to insist with you. But I don’t believe it is too much to ask.” Her ladyship mimicked a pout. “Please, dear, just indulge an old woman’s whims this once.”
Lily gave a huff of exasperation. “You aren’t old in the least.”
“I am old enough to be your mother,” Winifred retorted. “What’s more, I have a great deal more experience than you do. Trust me, you don’t want to end up alone in your old age, unloved and unwanted, as I am.”
Biting back further argument, Lily gave in reluctantly and agreed to a boat ride with Lord Claybourne.
The adults in the company were satisfied with short excursions on the lake, but it was nearly an hour later before the children had had their fill of boating and Heath returned to shore with his last group of young passengers. Lily hoped he might have lost interest in taking her out, but once the children had debarked and had been led away by Tess, he turned to her expectantly. “At last it is your turn.”
Lily started to step into the rowboat, but Heath held out his hand. “Allow me to be chivalrous for once,” he said, laughter lurking in his deep gold eyes.
Knowing how the contact would affect her, she didn’t really want him to touch her. But she had little choice other than to give him her hand and allow him to support her. Yet she snatched her hand away as soon as she was settled on the bench opposite him.
“You put Lady Freemantle up to this, didn’t you?” Lily asked as Heath picked up the oars and began to stroke.
“She scarcely needed encouragement. She wants us to have the opportunity to be together. So just relent with good humor, love, and pretend you are enjoying yourself.”
Lily felt her mouth curve wryly. It was rather humorous, letting herself be maneuvered so expertly.
“I am perfectly capable of rowing myself, you know,” she declared, not wanting to give in too easily. “You needn’t treat me as a helpless blossom.”
“Believe me, I am laboring under no such misapprehension. You are much more like thistle.” Heath chuckled softly when she made a face. “You may take a turn with the oars in a moment, but for now, sit back and savor this romantic interlude.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t expect me to simper and flirt with you?”
“What a singular notion. You are too forthright to possess any feminine wiles.”
Lily tore her gaze away from his winning smile, and instead focused on the scenery. She had to admit she was enjoying herself. It was pleasant being out on the water, despite having to endure this charming rogue’s company…or perhaps because of it. The sun had come out from behind the clouds, and it was turning into a beautiful summer afternoon, even though the breeze had picked up significantly.
She felt a welcome contentment steal over her-until they neared the middle of the lake, when Heath stowed one oar and reached out to tug on the ribbons of her bonnet.
Giving a start of surprise, Lily clasped his wrist to stay his hand. “What the devil are you doing?”
“You look too prim and proper,” he said provocatively as he loosened the ribbons completely and plucked the bonnet off her head. “You need to feel the wind in your hair.”
She glanced back at the shore, but no one seem to be paying any attention to his vexing mischief. Leaning forward, Lily snatched back her bonnet and placed it on her head where it belonged. Yet before she could find the ribbons to retie them, a sharp gust of wind came up and caught the wide brim. Instantly, the bonnet lifted and went sailing over the side of the boat.
It was purely a reflex action on Lily’s part: she lunged sideways after it. To her dismay, not only did she miss, but her left arm sank shoulder-deep into the water.
She gasped at the sudden chill and grasped wildly at the boat’s edge with her free hand, her balance precarious. For a heartbeat, she hung there suspended. Behind her, she felt Heath grab at her skirts to keep her from falling completely overboard. But his added weight on that side tilted the little rowboat so that Lily lost her frail grip and went tumbling headfirst into the lake.
She heard Heath swear violently a second before the water closed over her. The shock of the cold made Lily open her mouth, which then made her inhale a mouthful.
Near panic, she came up choking and flailing and gasping for air. But almost immediately she felt a powerful arm slide around her waist as she struggled.
There was fear in Heath’s voice when he urgently said her name, although his tone soon gentled. “Easy, I have you,” he murmured soothingly, treading water while he held her.
He had plunged in after her to save her, Lily realized as she endured a helpless fit of coughing.
When she finally managed to catch her wheezing breath, he drew her even closer against him. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his eyes.
His face was very near hers, and she was clutching at his shoulders. Although she didn’t want to let go, Lily forced herself to relax her death grip.
“Yes,” she rasped hoarsely. “I’m fine.”
His mouth curled. “You don’t look fine.”
“I will be once I can breathe.”
As if to dispute her declaration, another bout of coughing overtook her. Heath continued to support her until she found her voice again.
“Thank you,” Lily said finally. “You didn’t need to get wet, though. I could have saved myself.”
“I thought you might drown.”
“I know how to swim. Basil Eddowes taught me when we were children. It was just the shock of falling in that paralyzed me for a moment.” She paused, suddenly aware of his body pressing against hers. “You can release me now. I can manage on my own.”
“You may find it hard to swim in long skirts and petticoats.”
“I can manage,” Lily repeated.
He still seemed reluctant to release her, so she pushed away from him. He was right, Lily quickly learned. She could float somewhat, but she wasn’t very buoyant. Her skirts felt like a ship’s anchor, pulling her down. And when she tried to kick her legs to swim, she discovered they were tangled in swaths of muslin.
It was a struggle, but she made it over to the rowboat several yards away. Reaching up, she grasped the edge and clung.
She waited a short while to regain her strength before attempting to climb in, but then found it impossible; the weight of her sodden gown dragged her down, and every time she attempted to haul herself up, she tilted the rowboat into the water.
“Do you need my help yet, sweeting?” Heath asked mildly when she muttered an oath of exasperation.
Pushing a strand of dripping hair from her eyes, Lily glanced back at him. He was enjoying her dilemma, she could tell. And he wanted her to admit defeat. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of asking him for help.
By now a group of people had gathered on shore and were calling to her in alarm, demanding to know if she was all right.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Lily called back. “I am coming.”
Releasing her hold on the little boat, she struck out for the nearest shore to her left, swimming slowly because of her entangling skirts.
Judging by his tone, Heath didn’t seem to approve of her decision. “Just what do you think you are doing, Lily?”
She continued making small strokes, despite the frustration of only inching along. “I am saving myself. I don’t want you to earn any points for rescuing me. You only need three more to win as it is.”
“What if I relinquish any claim to points this time? Will you return to the boat and let me help you?”
“Thank you, your lordship, but I find the exercise stimulating.”
“Lily…” he said, amusement warring with exasperation.
When she wouldn’t give up, Heath caught up to her and swam alongside her, matching his strokes to her much shorter ones. “Did anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Miss Loring?”
“Yes, quite frequently. You have yourself. But I warned you of that, remember?”
Several of the people on land realized what she was doing and started hurrying around the lake to meet her. Benjamin was in the lead, followed swiftly by three footmen. And Winifred panted after them, her larger bulk preventing her from maintaining the same speed.
Lily’s arms and legs were growing tired, but thankfully she shortly reached shallower water where her feet could touch bottom. Standing upright, however, was an exercise in futility. She had lost both her slippers, and her stockinged feet had difficulty finding purchase in the sandy mud. And even when she eventually managed to find her footing, climbing out of the lake was like dragging chains behind her.
Once, she almost fell, and when the water was waist-deep, she stepped on a sharp piece of gravel that cut into her toes. When she let out an exclamation of pain, Heath exhaled in disgust.
“Enough is enough,” he stated, closing the distance between.
Without waiting for her permission, he scooped Lily up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.
She gave a yelp of protest but was forced to cling to his neck as he plowed through the water, up the sloping bank to the shore’s edge.
“Put me down!” she insisted when the water was knee level.
“Gladly,” he replied. “You weigh as much as a beached whale.”
No sooner had he spoken than he stumbled and went down on one knee. Although he easily kept hold of her while she clutched his neck more tightly, they voiced the same oath at the exact same instant.
The humor of it struck Lily and Heath at the same moment. Laughter echoed from them both as they met each other’s eyes.
When eventually he stood up, holding her safely, their laughter faded to a shared breathless smile.
“It’s damned hard playing the hero with you, sweetheart.”
Lily’s mouth curved with mirth. “Some hero you are. If you hadn’t loosened my bonnet, we would not be in this fix.”
By the time they reached dry land, the small group of spectators had joined them.
Winifred was out of breath, but she spoke first. “How wonderful of you, my lord. You saved her life.”
“You give me far too much credit, my lady,” he answered, his tone dry.
“Yes,” Lily added wryly. “I believe I had something to do with my deliverance.”
He grinned at her while Winifred shook her head. “But it was still quite romantic,” she insisted.
Ignoring her friend’s gushing, Lily instead addressed Heath. “Pray put me down now, my lord. You have been chivalrous enough for one day.”
When he obliged, setting her on her stockinged feet, Lily winced at the feel of the rough ground against her tender soles.
Seeing her pain, Winifred frowned. “Lily, you cannot walk back to the house with no shoes.”
“I don’t plan to return to your house, Winifred. I shall go home to Danvers Hall instead, so I may change out of this sopping gown.”
A light of speculation suddenly entered her ladyship’s eyes. “Yes, of course you must change at home. I don’t have any gowns that would fit you. And you must accompany her, Lord Claybourne. You need dry clothing, and Lord Danvers should have ample choices in his wardrobe.”
Lily wanted to argue, yet they were both dripping wet, and she was beginning to grow chilled.
In any event, Heath took the decision from her. “My carriage will take us to the Hall, Lady Freemantle. We shall go directly to the stables so we needn’t importune your guests.”
Although nodding happily, Winifred cast a measuring glance at Lily’s bedraggled form. “I suppose I should send a footman to fetch some blankets for you…”
“There are carriage rugs in my coach,” Heath assured her. “Please accept our apologies for leaving so precipitously, my lady.”
With a brief bow to their hostess, he picked Lily up again without regard to her sharp inhalation and strode toward the stableyard.
Lily knew protesting would be futile, yet she scolded him all the same once they were out of earshot. “You are taking shameless advantage of Winifred’s scheming.”
“Perhaps, but conventional methods of wooing won’t work on you, so I must act when I have the chance.”
The sound she made was between a scoff and an amused humph. “You cannot possibly consider this farcical comedy romantic, as she does.”
“No, it is hardly romantic. You look like a drowned rat.”
Lily’s eyes widened in mock insult. “My, my. First a whale, now a rat. How delightfully complimentary you are.”
He grinned at her. “You aren’t the kind of female to cherish compliments-I learned that within my first moments of meeting you.”
Even though she knew better than to encourage him, Lily found herself smiling back. She couldn’t deny the pleasure, either, of being held in Heath’s strong arms, pressed against his warm, powerful body. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, and her wet garments were raising goose bumps all over her skin.
But she tore her gaze away and stared at a point over his shoulder as his long strides ate up the distance.
When they reached the stableyard, he carried her directly to his coach. His servants sprang to do his bidding, opening the door for him so he could set Lily inside.
Struggling to arrange her dripping skirts, she settled on the leather seat and felt herself shiver as the clammy, cold fabric molded to her limbs and back.
After giving orders to his coachman, Heath climbed in to sit beside her, carrying a heavy woolen carriage blanket. She was grateful when he arranged the blanket over her lap and shoulders. But when he put his arm around her and drew her close, Lily stiffened. “My Lord Claybourne-” she began quellingly.
“Hush and let me warm you. Otherwise you’ll be frozen by the time we reach the Hall.”
Reluctantly, she allowed him to tuck her against the curve of his body. She could scarcely believe she had let Heath manipulate her into this vulnerable situation, although she couldn’t help but admire his initiative, the way he always countered any move she made to avoid his wooing. Shaking her head, she laughed softly at him and at herself.
Heath put a finger to her chin and turned her head to face him. “I like your laugh.” His gaze appraised her tenderly. “I like how your laughter makes your eyes sparkle.”
Lily felt breathless all of a sudden.
The coach began to move just then, jostling her against him. Stirring uncomfortably, Lily looked away. She couldn’t ignore him, however, for his thumb slid to the side of her neck, brushing. Tingling sensation skittered up her nerve endings, making her shiver again.
“That is quite enough, my lord.”
“I beg to differ, angel. You need warming, and I intend to do it by kissing you.”
When he pressed his lips to her nape, creating an excited flutter in her chest and stomach, Lily glanced back at him sternly. “You cannot want to kiss a drowned rat.”
His grin was slow, potent, and incorrigibly infectious. “How many times must I tell you, I don’t care how you look? You are utterly desirable in any condition.”
He didn’t look any less desirable for his own dousing in the lake, Lily thought, staring up at his handsome face. His wet hair had darkened and curled a little, making her want to reach up and slide her fingers through it. And how could she resist such a sinfully sensual smile?
Doubtless that was why she didn’t pull away when Heath bent his head. He kissed her softly, warming her mouth as he’d promised, along with other even more sensitive parts inside her. Deploring the shameful way her blood thickened, Lily gave a little sigh as damp heat pooled between her thighs. She knew she should stop him, but his wicked mouth could kidnap a woman’s common sense…
Then one of his hands pushed aside the blanket and came to rest on her breast, closing possessively. Lily broke away determinedly, striving to gather her scattered wits.
“You cannot possibly be thinking of making love to me in broad daylight in a carriage,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Not even you would be so scandalous.”
“I could indeed be thinking of it.”
“It is barely a mile to the Hall.”
“I told my coachman to go slowly in deference to the shock you endured from falling in the lake. Trust me, we have time for what I have in mind.” He lifted a finger to her throat, trailing it down to the neckline of her gown. “But I promise, I won’t arouse you to climax this time. I don’t want your cries of pleasure to be overheard by my servants.”
At the thought of Heath making her cry out with pleasure as he’d done yesterday, Lily felt her throat go dry. She sat there, torn, as his thumb moved maddeningly in light caresses over her skin. His body was giving off a powerful heat, making her yearn for him, while sensual awareness spread to all of her nerve endings. She could scarcely believe how much she wanted him to make love to her.
Lily squeezed her eyes shut. Heath was so very bad for her. He roused the very recklessness that she was trying to control.
With a sound of self-disgust, she extricated herself from his hold and moved to the opposite seat, facing him, letting the blanket drop to her waist in her haste. “You are a devil, trying to make me forget all my sense of propriety.”
“Which has never been very great to begin with.”
That much was true. There had always been a wild streak inside of her, and now Heath was encouraging it, urging her to behave with rash abandon, just as she longed to. But she wouldn’t give in to her longings this time, Lily vowed.
It didn’t help, however, that his gaze was slowly raking over her.
“Will you please stop looking at me that way?” she demanded in exasperation.
“What way?”
“As if you want to undress me.”
“But I do want to undress you, darling.” His smile was roguish, sensual. “Can I help it if I lust after you? That muslin gown of yours is hiding few of your charms at the moment.”
She glanced down at herself to see that her nipples were showing even through the wet bodice of her gown and undergarments. Feeling color warming her cheeks, Lily dragged up the carriage blanket to cover her bosom, shielding her breasts from his avid gaze.
Heath gave a pained sigh. “If you won’t oblige me, I suppose I can make do with fantasizing.”
Lily regarded him suspiciously, wondering what he would do next. She didn’t trust the devils dancing in his eyes.
She was right not to trust him, she realized the next moment, for he reached down and unbuttoned the front placket of his pantaloons. Lily’s breath faltered altogether when he opened his drawers and freed his rampant male member to her shocked gaze.
“Have I robbed you of the power of speech? Fancy that.”
Lily swallowed. “You are utterly wicked,” she said hoarsely.
“I can be. You will find I am a very physical man.”
Her eyes widened as he cradled the rigid shaft in his palm. He was greatly aroused, judging from the way it jutted out, thick and long and swollen.
She had never seen a man’s naked loins before, except for those on marble statues. And Heath was far larger and more virile than any statue. Fascinated, her gaze riveted, Lily stared as he lightly stroked his tumescence.
“I would much rather you be doing this to me.”
When she remained speechless, he bent down and, much to her startlement, reached beneath the blanket to take hold of her left ankle and peel off her stocking. Lifting her foot onto his lap, he lightly massaged the sole, warming it, then drew it closer to contact his naked flesh.
She sat enthralled, unable to look away. The hot, granite thickness of his manhood felt strangely erotic against her bare foot.
“Lily,” he called softly. “Come and sit beside me.”
She lifted her gaze to his, instinctively understanding what he was asking of her. “You want me to…caress you?”
“Very much.” His smile tantalized, his eyes seduced. “You know how pleasurable it feels when I arouse you, so you can imagine how pleasurable it can be for me when you arouse me.”
Her heart began to pound, but she didn’t have the willpower to deny his scandalous request. Drawn by the wicked gleam in his alluring hazel eyes, she rose and resumed her seat next to him, the blanket completely forgotten as it slipped to the coach floor.
Without waiting, Heath guided her palm to his naked loins. Lily inhaled a sharp breath as her fingers closed around his hardness, feeling the life of him pulse and leap at her touch.
Tension spiraled within her, but Heath merely leaned casually back against his seat. Keeping a light grasp of her hand, he coaxed her to fondle him, letting her cup the heavy sacs beneath his arousal, tracing the blunt, velvety head, until finally he curled her hand around his turgid length. Demonstrating how to give him pleasure, he began moving her hand slowly up and down, stroking.
A shameful thrill raced through Lily, kindling her senses, igniting a fluid rise of heat inside her. She was inflamed by the feel of him, by the lazy passion glowing in his eyes.
“Harder, love. You won’t hurt me.” His voice sounded slightly breathless as he increased the pace of their strokes.
Shortly his face became taut, the skin flushed, while his eyes shimmered with a hot, primal haze of desire.
His jaw locked as their fingers kneaded harder, sweeping up and down in short, rough motions. His breath was harsh and uneven by now, his fingers clenching around hers. But the moment before his climax, he released her hand and cupped his own around the head of his shaft.
Clenching his teeth, he shut his eyes as his pulsing seed spurted into his palm. The resultant explosion made his hips arch convulsively.
Lily watched wide-eyed as Heath shuddered and went still.
Finally opening his eyes, he smiled at her. “Our private trysts could well become the delight of my life,” he said huskily.
Unable to respond, she simply sat there, her lips parted, her own breath shallow, reduced to speechless, quivering pudding.
When she stayed silent, he took out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his hand clean, then calmly rearranged his clothing, covering himself and re-buttoning his pantaloons.
Lily wet her dry lips. “That is all you mean to do?”
“Did you expect more?”
“Well…yes.” She expected him to try to seduce her at the very least. Instead he had left her hot and aching, her senses on fire.
“Alas, we don’t have time. We should be reaching Danvers Hall shortly.”
At his blithe tone, Lily frowned at him, suddenly comprehending his intent. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes, love. It was another lesson in passion. Now you know what it feels like to be painfully aroused with no hope of fulfillment…which is the state you continually leave me in.”
He had deliberately titillated and excited and aroused her, only to keep her frustrated and hungry and craving more.
“That is hardly fair,” Lily muttered. “Rather underhanded, in fact.”
His half smile was enchanting. “You have the power to change your fate. All you need do is say you will wed me, and I will be more than happy to satisfy your carnal desires anytime you wish. Until then, your virtue is safe with me.”
There was laughter in his eyes, but a challenge, too.
A challenge Lily had no intention of taking up.
Not for the first time she voiced a silent oath at the vexing, tempting Lord Claybourne-on this occasion for using the lure of incredible carnal pleasure to try and persuade her to accept his hand in marriage.
“I suppose I will just have to suffer then,” Lily declared, moving away from him again in a fit of pique before bending to retrieve the blanket and her discarded stocking. “But I will say one thing: This absurd game cannot be over soon enough for me!”