Again and Again

Chapter 16

As the sun rose, he held her close, not wanting to leave, frustrated at the thought of having to pretend they were nominal strangers when they met downstairs.

It was exasperating they couldn’t be together- doubly so to a man who had commanded the world to his whims for most of his life. There wasn’t a reason in creation why Caro had to be a governess. Good God, he could pay for a hundred governesses-a thousand. Not that he was interested in her for her governess abilities, he reflected, heated memory spiking through his mind. Nor was he interested in playing a milksop role before Ian and Jane for the indefinite future. He couldn’t stay at Netherton Castle forever. He didn’t want to. He wanted Caro beside him like this when he woke in the morning. He particularly wanted her warming his bed at night. The obvious solution leaped to mind. “Come live with me,” he said.

She came out of her doze with a start and stared

He nodded. “Precisely.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we get along famously, that’s why.”

“If I were to live with you,” she said a trifle too softly, “what would that make me?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Caro.”

Her gaze turned cool. “I’ve not yet sunk to the level of whore.”

“I meant nothing of the kind. I’ll buy you a house of your own. You can be independent. Isn’t that what you want? And we wouldn’t have to sneak around like fugitives.”

She sat up and moved away. “My independence would be your reward for sexual favors? Don’t look at me like that. Of course it would. I don’t have the funds to support a house even if I let you buy one for me.”

“You’re making this much too complicated,” he grumbled.

“You needn’t buy me anything, Simon. I don’t want you to buy me anything. I can make my own living.”

“With the stated price for your favors, no doubt you can.” The resentment in his tone matched hers.

“That list and those conditions were meant to discourage you.”

His gaze turned cynical. “You obviously don’t understand men.”

“Or men of your ilk, who insist on having their way.”

“I don’t see you obliging me, so obviously I don’t always get what I want.”

“A shame. Or perhaps a lesson in humility.”

“So you’re saying no to me?”

“Is that a shock? Having a woman refuse you? I suppose women are standing in line to be your mistress,” she said with icy sarcasm.

“Damn you, Caro. It’s not about being my mistress.” In fact, he’d always scrupulously avoided making such an offer to a woman.

“Good. Then I’ll say no thank you to your kind offer and you’ll politely go back to London.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“That’s not my concern.” She began to rise from their makeshift bed. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get dressed for my workday.”

“Not just yet,” he murmured, grasping her wrist.

“Release me.” Her voice was chill.

“You want me to leave?”

She struggled against his grip. “I distinctly want you to leave.”

“And you’re not interested in my offer?”

“If I ever decide to become a whore, I’ll let you know. I don’t at the moment.”

“But you might?” he lazily drawled.

She was rigid, her gaze filled with rage. “Perhaps when hell freezes over, but I wouldn’t guarantee it even then.”

“In that case, why don’t we call this a farewell fuck?” He jerked her back.

“If you dare, I’ll scream.”

“Scream away.”

He meant it; he didn’t care. “Since when do you force women?” she spat

“I never do.”

“Arrogant bastard.”

He shook his head. “I just know how to pick the right women-you know, the ones who like to fuck. Now, spread your legs, darling. Both of us know your hot little cunt is always ready for more.”

She scrambled to get away, but he grabbed her as she rose to her knees and hauled her back, his grip on her waist brutal. “Now what do we have here?” he murmured, his gaze on her lush, pink bottom. Balanced on her hands and knees, she was conveniently open to him and he drew her closer despite her struggles to break free. “Down, sweetheart,” he whispered, sliding his palm down her spine. “I’m not quite finished with you. Five hundred pounds should certainly buy a last fuck in the morning.” With one hand splayed across the base of her spine and the other gripping her waist, he ignored her resistance and hauled her back until she was poised in all her bounteous beauty, wet and ready for his prick.

His erection was stiff against his stomach. Moving his hand from her waist, he guided his penis to her exposed vulva and plunged in.

If he heard her gasp, he gave no indication; he was already drawing back for the next powerful down stroke. Holding her hips in a harsh grip, he drove in over and over again, convulsed with rage, his breathing soon becoming rough and shallow as though he’d run ten miles. But it was untrammeled fury that brought him panting, that made him want to humble her and he took out his frustration in a brutal pounding assault, as though sheer force would mitigate his anger.

He could have come a dozen times, but he curbed the impulse, wanting retaliation more-craving vengeance for her refusal, needing to make her submit at least in this crude physical act, if no other way.

But then he heard it, as though his ears were attuned to her passions-that soft whimpering sound she made just before she climaxed.

Damn her, damn her burning hot cunt; did nothing blunt her insatiable hunger? In case she hadn’t noticed, this wasn’t a benevolent sex act meant for her enjoyment. Withdrawing quickly, he released his orgasm, spurting hot come on her back while she trembled and sobbed, unfulfilled.

The second he was finished, he rose from the floor without a backward glance and quickly dressed. He was swift and proficient; he’d left in a hurry once or twice before.

Pulling some bills from his pocket, he tossed them on the table. “You were worth every shilling,” he said, silkily. “And I should know.”

Grabbing up the bills, she threw them at him. “I hope you burn in hell or better yet, have Daphne as a millstone around your neck the rest of your life!”

He stared at her briefly, ignoring the bills at his feet “Wake up to the realities of the world, darling. There is no hell and Daphne doesn’t stand a prayer of getting what she wants,” a wicked smile flashed across his face, “unless it’s her stable boy. Now, if you should ever tire of instructing children, let me know. We could probably work something out.”

He ducked as she threw a candlestick at him, the brass holder striking the door with such force it chipped the wood. “Temper, darling,” he murmured. “You don’t want to lose this job.”

“Get the hell out before I forget how much I need this job,” she hissed, the sound of servants moving around the house becoming more audible.

He bowed faintly, looking disheveled and irritatingly handsome in his rearranged evening rig. “If you’re ever in London, look me up.”

“If I’m ever in London, I’ll take every precaution to avoid you.”

“That’s not very friendly.”

“But then you’re not really interested in a woman’s friendship, are you?”

He hesitated, and his mouth formed in a grim line for a moment. “Let’s say, I thought I was.” He reached for the doorknob and faintly tipped his head. “But then we all make mistakes.”

The knock on the door echoed through the room.

Caroline’s pulse rate soared.

“It’s only a servant at his hour,” Simon remarked, unconcerned. Opening the door, he offered the maid holding Caroline’s breakfast tray a pleasant good morning and strolled from the room.

Flushing with embarrassment, Caroline wished she could disappear into the floor. Since that wasn’t a viable option, she covered her nakedness with the quilt and tried to be invisible.

“Oh, miss,” Betsy sighed, turning back after watching Simon stroll away. “You be so lucky. All us girls been hoping the fine lord would look our way, we were. Oh, my, he’s ever so splendid.”

So much for her concern about appearances. Now if only she could be as cavalier as Betsy, Caroline thought. But perhaps the maid had the right perspective after all. Enjoy the fine lord and then get on with your life. With luck and a very bad memory, perhaps she could do just that.