Chapter 12

“I’m sorry.”

Eliza turned away from the French doors leading to the rear garden and faced Jasper. He entered the Melville ballroom with a determined, forceful stride. There were over one hundred feet of marble floor between them, but she felt his presence keenly.

“Close the door,” she said.

He drew to a halt. The massive room was dimly lit, with only the indirect morning sunlight at her back offering any illumination. She heard him take a deep breath before turning around and returning to the door.

As the click of the latch echoed through the room, she asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“No.” Jasper resumed the long walk to where she stood, passing the many mural vignettes without looking. “But then, I’ve never slept well. There is too much to be done and not enough time in the day.”

“I didn’t sleep well either.” She absorbed the rush of sensation she always felt upon first sight of him. Interspersed between the Georgian-era vignettes of a picnic party were long, slender mirrors framed by cream-colored molding. The result was many Jaspers filling the room. Her reaction was equally magnified.

“I apologize for last night,” he said again, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. Lowering his head, he sealed his mouth over hers.

There was nothing remorseful about his kiss. It was hot, fierce, and lustful. Jasper’s tongue teased her lips open, then licked inside. The taste of him exploded across her senses, awakening a powerful need to possess him.

Eliza caught him to her with fevered desperation. Her arms encircled his shoulders, her fingers pushed into his silky hair and cupped his nape. Her breasts swelled against his chest, the lingering soreness between her legs forgotten in a rush of slick moisture. She wanted to bare his skin, rub her open mouth across it, caress him with her hands and uninhibited undulations of her body.

He groaned and twisted his mouth away.

“Jasper…?”

“I handled myself poorly.” He rested his temple against hers. “I know you won’t tolerate being dictated to.”

She no longer wanted to talk, but knew they must. Sexual passion could not be all they had. “H-how do you know that?”

“Because I pay attention to you.” He set her away from him. “And I’m a good judge of character.”

“You have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you beyond your livelihood and your wish to marry me.”

“You know how I look without my clothes on. And how I feel inside you.”

She wanted him inside her now. Ached for the feeling of fullness and delicious friction. The incendiary rush of climax and the repletion that followed.

Eliza linked her hands behind her back and circled him, her green skirts swaying around her legs. “That isn’t enough for me in quiet, contemplative moments. I think of you and how I act when I’m around you, and I do not recognize myself. You are the catalyst for the changes in me, yet you’re an enigma. Can you understand how difficult it is for me to experience such upheaval with no foundation upon which to lay it?”

He turned his head to keep their gazes connected. “I know it appears as if I haven’t altered as much or sacrificed as much as you have.”

“You aren’t the only one sorry about their behavior last night. I said and did things I regretted almost the moment they happened. I was irritated with you and reacted unthinkingly.”

“Relationships are fraught with such behavior. It’s perfectly normal.”

“It will not be normal for us, or I want nothing to do with it.”

His stance widened. “What are you saying?”

Slowing in front of him, she eyed him from head to toe. He was dressed for riding in snug doeskin breeches and polished Hessians. The powerful muscles of his thighs and calves were clearly delineated. He crossed his arms, as if in preparation for a confrontation, and his flexing biceps strained the seams of his dark gray coat.

He was the most attractive, sexually alluring man she’d ever crossed paths with.

“I cannot hide how I want you,” she said huskily. “I want to be in your bed even now, despite the fact that it’s the middle of the morning. I want you so badly I burn with it.”

“Eliza.”

“See how you’ve changed me, that I can say such things aloud? But desire alone won’t be enough impetus to wed you. I could insist on an affair instead.” She rounded him again. “I agreed to your proposal because you’ve been honest with me. Although you haven’t revealed much of yourself, what you have shared up to this point has been truthful.”

Jasper caught her arm as she came around. “I’m different with you, as well. I am learning to adjust. You will, too.”

“Not unless you become more than a stranger to me. You once said your past and future are irrelevant. But since then, you’ve asked me to blend your future with mine. To create a joint future. Our future. In order for that to happen, you have to show me the road upon which you travel. I cannot be led along blindly. If you won’t commit to sharing, then we are finished before we begin.”

“The future is shaped by the past.” His throat worked on a hard swallow. “My past will alter your view of me. The risk of you turning away from what I am is too great.”

Eliza cupped his cheek. With every inhale, she smelled the beloved scent of his skin. “What kind of life would we have together, if we continue to do and say things to each other we lament? It’s the worst sort of dishonesty. I’ve seen it before, and I know it ends in sorrow and misery. I don’t want that for you, or for me. I do not want that for us.”

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “You speak of your parents.”

“There was so much left unsaid between them. Their infatuation brought them together, but it wasn’t strong enough to bear the weight of their façades. They quarreled often and said unkind things. Eventually, apologies were no longer enough to mend the rift between them. How could they be, when they continued to repeat the mistakes they apologized for?” Her fingertips drifted across his firm lips. “If only they’d been honest about themselves and what they needed. Perhaps they could have made each other happy.”

“The moment you walked away from me last night, I regretted my brusqueness. I considered climbing through your bedroom window just to reassure myself that you would still receive me.”

“Would you have revealed the truth to me then?”

Jasper offered a rueful smile. “I doubt it. Surely, the convenience of finding you in bed would have distracted me.”

“How swiftly you tell the truth when it’s not tied to your past.”

He urged her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then, he walked away and spoke over his shoulder. “Pull the pins from your hair. I’ll speak for as long as it takes you to let it down completely.”

“What game is this?”

“I intend to learn how to dance with you. We cannot have every lesson delayed by interruptions, despite how pressing they might be. We need a way to measure the time spent.”

“Your pocket watch will not suffice?”

“That isn’t nearly as fun.”

Reaching up with both hands, she obliged. Slowly. Pulling out one pin and carefully lowering her arm to drop it on the floor.

He gave an approving nod, then began to follow the length of the wall. “There are some individuals who lack empathy for others. They are unable to create or sustain emotional connections, and their vision of the world is limited to their own viewpoints.”

“My stepfather was such a person. Chilcott was entirely self-absorbed.”

Jasper’s voice rose to compensate for the growing distance between them. “In addition to that defect of character, Montague is also cursed with aberrant sexual appetites.”

Eliza paused in the act of withdrawing another pin. “How do you know this?”

“I have crossed paths with women who’ve had the misfortune of catching his eye. He prefers unwilling partners and the infliction of pain. My understanding is he cannot perform otherwise.”

“Unwilling…” Her stomach turned at the thought of being forced to share the intimacies of sexual congress with someone who was cruel and malicious. “How does one acquire such deviant tastes?”

“Through the blood, perhaps? Or a defect of the soul.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”

Her hands fell to her sides. She walked toward him with her hair loosened and threatening to fall around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? How could you keep such things from me?”

“When could I have told you?”

“Don’t be coy!”

He altered direction to meet her halfway, his booted steps more silent than her slippered ones. “I would give up a great many things to spare you such sordidness. I knew you were decided against marriage, which made the possibility of your ever learning of Lord Montague’s activities very slim indeed.”

“I would not have met with him yesterday if I’d known!” As she reached him, her hands went to her hips. “And you and I would not have quarreled.”

“I also feared what would happen if he discovered you knew of his darker nature. Your face is so expressive. You will not be able to hide your condemnation, and he’s a desperate man. His good name is all he has left. He cannot afford to have it sullied by gossip.”

Although she didn’t approve of his methods, she hadn’t the heart to argue about his reasoning. He wanted to protect her in every respect. “Do you think he’s the one who has been plaguing me?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Jasper beckoned her closer with a crook of his finger. “He is teetering on the verge of utter ruination. He’s gambled away or sold every non-entailed property, and he does not have the means to support the holdings he has left. His debts are such that he’s being denied credit. Soon, he will have nowhere to turn.”

“And yet you’re considering investing with him?” Eliza stepped into his open arms. “What are you thinking?”

He set his chin atop her head. “I want him ruined. I cannot allow him to find a means of salvation. If feigning interest is required to glean the information I need to thwart him, it’s a small price to pay.”

His tone was so vitriolic, it didn’t sound like Jasper at all. Eliza leaned back to study his features. “Why?”

“Retribution for a…friend.”

Jealousy stung her. “A lover?”

“No.” His hands stroked the length of her spine. “Before you there was sex. You have been my only lover.”

Her fingers straightened his already immaculate cravat. “Will I always be?”

“Are you asking if I’ll be steadfast? Of course.”

“You answer so easily.”

His beautiful mouth curved with amusement. “As if I practiced my response for just such a question? And here I thought we’d established I have yet to tell you a falsehood.”

Eliza looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I find the thought of another woman enjoying you as I have to be extremely vexing.”

“Vexing,” he repeated, grinning.

“Intolerable,” she amended.

“We certainly cannot have you vexed. Therefore, I must be faithful.”

Unsatisfied by his response, she goaded him. “I shall follow your lead in this aspect of our association, as I have in everything else.”

“Why, Miss Martin,” he drawled. “I do believe that was a threat.”

Her gaze dropped to where her fingers lay against white linen. “Only if you stray.”

He laughed. Picking her up, he spun her around.

“Jasper!” Wide-eyed, she looked into his face. Something in his expression flushed her skin.

“You delight me.” His voice was slightly husky.

“You confound me. And charm me.”

“And arouse you.”

“Too easily.” She ran her hands through his hair, unable to resist its thick silky texture.

“I want you even when we’re not together. Can you say the same?”

“Yes, in the moments when I’m not questioning myself for jumping into a situation with my eyes closed.”

Jasper set her down and touched her falling hair with reverent fingers. “Your mind wants to make sense of what you feel. I’ve forsaken any effort to understand it, but you will not. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. Just promise me that when you have doubts or concerns, you’ll come to me as you did today. Tell me what you need, and I will find a way to give it to you.”

Eliza believed him. He made her feel as if she was important to him. Necessary. She’d never been necessary to anyone before. It was a novel feeling, one she was still attempting to assimilate.

“What I need,” she began, catching his hand in hers and setting her left hand on his shoulder, “is for you to learn how to waltz. I want to dance with you.”

He positioned his hand at her waist. “From the very first, you listed dancing as a requirement in your suitors.”

“I’ll enjoy dancing with you best of all.” Eliza smiled. “You have that air of danger about you, and a very seductive way of moving. The inherent sensuality of the waltz was made for a man such as you.”

His smile made her pulse race. “I want to commission a new gown for you to wear during our first public waltz. Will you wear it?”

Pleased by the thought of a gift, she nodded. It had been a long time since someone who cared for her bought her a present. Melville rarely knew what day of the week it was; special occasions were beyond him.

“I cannot wait,” he purred, his spine straightening beautifully. “Teach me quickly.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Her tone changed, became more clipped and direct. “There are nine positions in the German waltz. However, we must start with a rule: this precise distance between us should always be maintained.”

“You’re too far away,” he complained, shooting a pointed glance down at the floor between them.

“Stuff. The waltz is the only dance in which pairs are set apart from the assemblage and focused on each other. There is no way to be more intimate.”

“Without a bed.”

Eliza bit back an indulgent smile. Certainly she shouldn’t encourage his roguish tendencies, but she adored them. He was unlike any man she knew-wicked in all the best ways.

“Pay attention,” she said sternly. “Your feet should be turned outward when stepping”-she demonstrated-“and the lift of your leg should be pronounced.”

Although he continued to make provocative statements, Eliza remained focused. She walked him carefully through the steps. At first, he seemed almost afraid to move. When she pointed it out, he groused, “Damned if I’ll trample you.”

But he soon learned to appreciate her responsiveness. He became more confident and sure-footed. The steps became more natural, his arm movements accomplished with more flourish. She praised him when his form was perfect, and teased him when it wasn’t.

As time passed and they continued their exertions, his scent of spice and bergamot filled the air between them. The advance and retreat of the steps became foreplay to her. The twisting movements limbered her, while the too-brief moments of proximity began to titillate her senses. His powerful shoulder flexed beneath her hand, reminding her of how delicious he was when naked and passionate and aroused. Her breathing quickened.

Jasper watched her with an enigmatic smile. “I like this.”

“The dance?”

“The way you follow my lead. The feel of your body moving in just the way I want, with only the slightest urging.”

“You like being in control.”

Jasper paused mid cross step. Their faces were turned toward one another, their lips only inches apart. “And you like me in control.”

“Perhaps”-she lowered her gaze to his lips-“being out of control is my aim.”

His hand tightened on her waist. “Are you propositioning me, Miss Martin?”

“What would you do if I did?”

“Anything you want.”

He sidestepped, so that their bodies were aligned. Face-to-face. Jasper was such a large, strong man. She felt so delicate when she was with him, yet never overpowered.

“You know what I want,” she whispered, blushing.

“A kiss?” He gently pulled another pin from her hair. “An embrace?”

“More.”

“How much more?”

She bit her lower lip.

Jasper caught her chin. “Shyness has no place between us.”

“I don’t want to be…overbold.”

“Sweetheart.” His tone was soft and warm. “Can you still be unaware of how I relish your esteem and desire? Haven’t I told you how deeply they please me and how much satisfaction I derive from them?”

“As if I’m the only woman to admire you,” Eliza said wryly.

“You’re the only woman whose admiration has value to me.”

“Why? There’s nothing special about me. Whatever pleasing traits I possess are better represented in other females.”

“Not in the combination with which you are blessed.” His hand drifted from her jawline and closed around her breast. He studied her reaction as his thumb circled a highly sensitive nipple. “I love that you are beautiful and clever and carry a constant desire for me. You could not be more perfect.”

Her body responded instantly to his expert touch-her nipples tightened into aching points and the flesh between her legs throbbed with need.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, anchoring her with a hand at her hip. With two fingers, he rolled and tugged the erect point of her breast, the pressure too light to offer any relief.

She felt pliable and wanton. Intoxicated. They’d been alone for an hour, only inches apart; his body had been in motion the entire time. Watching him move was a seduction in and of itself. She couldn’t keep herself from wanting him. Her infatuation was far too great to be moderated.

“I want you naked,” she breathed.

A soft rumbling came from his chest, sounding suspiciously like a purr. “Why?”

Her hands moved of their own volition, catching the lapels of his coat. “Take this off.”

His wicked smile made her toes curl. He shrugged out of the expensive garment and let it fall to the floor. “Better?”

“Not nearly.” She caressed his arms through his shirtsleeves. Looking behind him at the mirror on the opposite wall, she drank in the view of his buttocks and thighs. The sight, smell, and feel of him were all aphrodisiacs to her.

He glanced over his shoulder. “You surprise me in all the best ways. Should I hang a mirror above our bed?”

“Jasper…” A shiver of mortified delight moved through her. “I would never be able to look.”

“I think you won’t be able to look away. Shall we prove it?”

Eliza stilled. “Here?”

“Would Melville disturb us?”

She shook her head. “How…?”

Her mind rushed forward, planning how they could manage a coupling without a bed.

“Your nipples are so pretty,” he murmured, drawing her attention to her bodice. She was shamelessly, visibly aroused. “So tiny and petite.”

He stayed her when she moved to cover herself. “Unfair for you to hide when I cannot.”

She followed the gesturing sweep of his hand and found the bold outline of his erection straining the placket of his breeches. A soft sound of yearning escaped her. She wished for nothing more than to be naked with him, his powerful body flexing and working atop hers, his long thick penis pushing deep into her. Despite her lingering soreness, the lure of orgasm was too potent to be denied.

He stroked himself brazenly through the doeskin. “You cannot have this again so soon.”

“Why not?” she demanded, her gnawing desire making her audacious.

“You’re sore, and I’m not in possession of a condom.”

Knowing he was vulnerable to her, she closed the distance between them. With one hand at his nape and the other gripping his buttock possessively, she rubbed against him like a cat.

Jasper’s chest vibrated with a chuckle, stimulating her already tender nipples. “Vixen,” he murmured, bending his knees and notching his erection against her swollen sex. He worked her against him, stroking where she ached with the stone-hard length of him.

“Yes,” she panted, her nails digging into his skin. “I want this.”

His lips moved against the shell of her ear. “You can’t have it, I told you. But I can make you come. Would you like that, Eliza?”

“Please.” She felt feverish.

“Are you wet for me?”

“Jasper!”

“Show me.” He backed away. “Lift your skirts and bare yourself.”

Despite the extremity of her desire, Eliza was still mortified by the request. It was one thing to be in his arms and lost to his skill. It was quite another to stand alone and lewdly display herself. “I cannot.”

His eyes were so very dark. “I promise to reward your courage.”

She fought against years of training and memories of her mother’s promiscuity to blossom as he wished her to do. She’d always believed intimacy was built through time and familiarity. Now she knew it could also be based simply on trust.

She clutched her skirts in her hands. “I suppose you’ve seen countless pantalettes before.”

The corner of Jasper’s mouth twitched. “Countless? How debauched do you think I am?”

“Enough to ask me to do this.”

“True enough,” he conceded with a regal bow of his dark head. “But I did not ask.”

She might have taken him to task for his arrogance, if her brain hadn’t leaped in another direction. So rare is this particular skill that many a woman will disregard other considerations in favor of it, he’d said the day they had first met. And she’d laid claim to a man who possessed such expertise and wanted to practice it on her. How foolish was she to deny herself?

Before she altered her mind, Eliza yanked up her narrow skirts.

The way he looked at her caused the hairs on her nape to stand on end. “How brave you are,” he praised.

Emboldened by his admiration, she untied the ribbon that secured her pantalettes around her waist. The lace-hemmed linen fell to the floor and pooled around her ankles.

“Sweet Eliza,” he murmured, his foot deliberately catching on his discarded coat and sliding it across the floor to a spot directly in front of her. “You are more generous than I deserve.”

He sank to his knees.

As he stared at the dark red curls between her legs, Eliza became so aroused she could no longer stand still. She swayed slightly, and he caught her hip with one hand. With the other, he caught the waistband of her pantalettes and silently urged her to step out of them.

He kept her legs wide by gripping her ankle and keeping it in place. The hand at her hip moved between her legs, parting her and stroking gently through the slickness of her desire.

“I believe you were made for me,” he said huskily, rubbing her flesh with a callused finger. “Look how wet you are.”

Her hips rolled into his teasing caresses. “Jasper…”

Leaning forward, his breath ruffled her damp curls. She tensed in anticipation.

He licked his lips and purred, “Let’s see how wet you can get.”

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