The Stranger I Married

Chapter 9

Isabel paused in the foyer of her home at the sound of masculine voices. One was rushed and urgent. The other, her husband’s, was low and unwavering. The door to Gray’s study was closed or she would have peeked, out of curiosity. Instead, she looked at the butler who was collecting her hat and gloves. “Who is with Lord Grayson?”

“Lord Spencer Faulkner, my lady.” The servant paused a moment, then added, “He arrived with luggage.”

She blinked, but in no other way did she betray her surprise. With a nod of dismissal, Isabel went to the kitchen to make certain the cook was aware of the extra mouth to feed. Then she went upstairs to take a short nap. She was exhausted, both from a night spent with very little sleep and an afternoon of chatting inanities with women who spoke unkind things about her behind her back. Rhys was supposed to have been both support and a distraction, but he himself had seemed distracted, his gaze wandering restlessly over the guests as if he were looking for something. Like a way to escape, she imagined.

With the help of her abigail, Isabel stripped down to her stockings and chemise, then took down her hair. Within moments after lying on her bed, she was asleep and dreaming of Gray.

Isabel, he breathed in a voice filled with sin. His mouth, hot and wet, moved across her exposed shoulder. His stroking hand was equally hot, the callused palm causing a delicious friction even through the silk that covered her legs.

Her heart warned her to refuse him, and her arm lifted to push his touch away.

I need you, he said roughly.

Her blood thrummed with eagerness and she whimpered, every nerve ending alive and waiting for the pleasure he could bring. She could smell him and feel his warmth. His ardor radiated outward, igniting hers. It was a dream, and she did not want to wake up. Nothing she did here would affect her.

Her hand dropped away.

Good girl, he praised, his lips to her ear. He lifted her thigh and set it over his. “I missed you today.”

She came to consciousness with a start.

And found a very hard bodied, very aroused Grayson at her back.

“No!” Struggling, Isabel squirmed out of his embrace and sat up. She glared at him. “What are you doing in my bed?”

He rolled to his back and tucked his hands under his head, completely unabashed about his obvious erection. Dressed in an open-collared shirt and trousers, his blue eyes sparkling with both devilry and lust, he was unbearably handsome. “Making love to my wife.”

“Well, cease.” She crossed her arms under her bosom and his eyes dropped to her breasts. Her blasted nipples replied with enthusiasm. “We had a bargain.”

“Which I never agreed to.”

Her mouth fell open.

“Bring that mouth over here,” he murmured, his eyelids lowering.

“You are dreadful.”

“That is not what you said last night. Or this morning. I believe you said, ‘Oh God, Gray, that is so good.’” His lips twitched.

Isabel threw a pillow at him.

Gray laughed and shoved it under his head. “How was your afternoon?”

She sighed and shrugged, her body achingly aware of the man who sat so close to her. “Lady Marley had a breakfast.”

“Was it pleasant? I confess, I’m surprised you managed to lure Trenton to such an event.”

“He wants a favor.”

“Ah, extortion.” He smiled. “I love it.”

“You would, you wicked man.” Catching up one of the pillows, she reclined opposite him. “Perhaps you could fetch my robe?”

“Damnation, no,” he said, shaking his head.

“I have no wish to incite your already considerable appetite for sexual congress,” she said dryly.

He caught up her hand and kissed her fingertips. “The mere thought of you incites me. At least this way, I also have a charming view.”

“Was your day better than mine?” she asked, making every effort to ignore how his touch burned her.

“My brother has come for an extended visit.”

“I heard.” Gooseflesh spread across her skin as he stroked her palm. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Not precisely. Apparently, he is running amok.”

“Hmm…Well, he is the age for it.” But studying Gray, she could see he was disturbed. “You look so grave. Is he in trouble?”

“No.” Gray fell onto his back again and stared up at the ornate ceiling. “He has not yet run up any great debt or angered someone’s husband, but he is certainly on a steady course in that direction. I should have been here to guide him, but once again my own needs came before anyone else’s.”

“You cannot blame yourself,” she protested. “Any wildness on his part is natural for boys his age.”

Her husband stilled, his head turning to reveal narrowed eyes. “Boys his age?”

“Yes.” She recoiled slightly, suddenly wary.

“He is the same age as I was when we wed. Did you think I was a boy then?” He rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed. “Do you think I am a boy now?”

Her heart raced. “Gray, really-”

“Yes, really,” he purred, his jaw set ominously as he thrust his hand under her buttocks and tilted her pelvis to cradle his. He rolled his hips, rubbing his cock against the perfect spot between her legs. “I want to know. Do you think me less than a man because I am younger than you?”

She swallowed hard, her body tense and straining beneath his. “No,” she breathed. Her subsequent inhale filled her lungs with his luscious scent. Grayson was virile, temperamental, and most definitely a man.

He stared down at her for a long moment, his cock hardening and swelling between her thighs. Lowering his head, he took her mouth, his tongue licking between her parted lips. “I have wanted to do this all day.”

“You did do this all day.” Her hands fisted in the counterpane to prevent herself from touching him.

Gray rested his forehead against hers and laughed. “I hope you have no objection to Spencer’s visit.”

“Of course not,” she assured him, managing a smile through her near painful attraction. What the devil was she to do with him? With herself? She could only hope that Lord Spencer would distract him from his single-minded seduction. How long could she truly expect to resist?

“Thank you.” He brushed his mouth across hers, then twisted to drape her body over his.

She frowned, puzzled. “No need to thank me. This is your home.”

“This is our home, Pel.” He settled into the pillows. When she tried to slide off him, he caught her waist. “Stay here.”

When she opened her mouth to argue, he grimaced, which arrested her. “What is it?” Before she could think better of it, her hand was cupping his cheek. He leaned into her touch and sighed.

“Spencer told me that I am his hero.”

Her brows rose. “What a lovely thing to say.”

“But it’s not. Not at all. You see, to him, I am the brother he knew before. That is the man whom he and his friends emulate. They are drinking in vast quantities, associating with questionable people, and showing no concern whatsoever for the effect of their behavior on others. He said he has yet to manage two mistresses, but he is giving it his best effort.”

Isabel winced, her stomach clenching at the reminder of how wild her husband was. His edges might have smoothed some, but he was no less dangerous. So far he had been cocooned with her while awaiting his garments, but soon he would be out and about. Once that happened, everything would change.

He nipped the fleshy part of her palm with his teeth, and held her gaze with his. “I told him he was better off finding a wife such as you. You are more expensive than two mistresses, but worth every shilling.”

“Grayson!”

“It’s true.” His smile was wicked.

“There is no hope for you, my lord.” But she had to bite her lip to keep a straight face.

His hands left her waist and followed the curve of her spine. “I missed you, dear Pel, these last four years.” He gripped her shoulders, and pulled her gently but firmly to his chest. “I must begin anew. You are all I have at the moment, and I am grateful that you are more than enough.”

Her heart welled with tenderness for him. “Whatever you need-” He chuckled, and her eyes widened in horror. “As far as your brother is concerned, you understand. Not for…” She wrinkled her nose as he laughed. “Odious man.”

“Not for sex. I collect what you meant.” His mouth nuzzled into her hair, and his chest expanded beneath her. “Now, you must understand what I mean.” Cupping her buttocks, he rocked her against his rigid cock. His lips to her ear, he whispered, “I ache for you-for your body, your scent, the sounds you make when we’re fucking. If you think I will deny myself those pleasures, you are mad. A raving lunatic.”

“Stop that.” Her voice was so thready it had no substance. He was like warm marble beneath her-hard, ridged, solid. She could almost believe he would support her, provide her an anchor, but she knew men of his ilk too well. She did not hold it against him, she simply accepted it.

“I will make a bargain with you, dear wife.”

Lifting her head, she caught her breath at the heat that burned in his eyes and flushed his cheeks. “You do not honor your bargains, Grayson.”

“I shall honor this one. The day you stop wanting me is the day I will no longer want you.”

She stared at him, taking in the wicked arch of his brow, before sighing dramatically. “Can you grow a wart?”

Gray blinked. “Beg your pardon?”

“Or overeat? Perhaps cease to bathe?”

He laughed. “As if I would do anything to make myself less attractive to you.” The fingers that combed through her hair were gentle, the smile he gave her tender. “I find you irresistible as well.”

“You never paid me any mind before.”

“That is not true, and you know it. I am no more immune to your charms than any other man.” His jaw firmed. “Which is why Spencer will accompany you when you go out tonight.”

“Your brother has no interest in the tame social affairs I attend,” she said with a laugh.

“He does now.”

Isabel took a moment to absorb the sudden quiet intensity of her husband’s tone, before sliding off of him and leaving the bed. The fact that he let her go without argument made her wary. “Must I be home at a certain time as well?” she asked tightly.

“Three.” He sat up further on the pillows and crossed his arms. The unspoken challenge was evident in his tone and posture.

She picked up the gauntlet. “And if I fail to return by that time?”

“Why, I will come after you, vixen,” he replied with ominous softness. “I’ve no wish to lose you, now that I have found you.”

“You cannot do this, Gray.” She began to pace.

“I can, and will, Pel.”

“I am not chattel.”

“You do belong to me.”

“Does that possession apply to you in like fashion?”

He frowned. “What are you asking?”

She paused next to the bed and set her hands on her hips. “Will you always return at three when I am not with you?”

His frown deepened.

“When you do not return in a timely manner, will I have the right to hunt you down? Shall I barge into whatever den of iniquity you happen to be gracing and rip you from the arms of your lover?”

Gray rose from the bed with slow, predatory grace. “Was that your intent? A lover?”

“We are not talking about me.”

“Yes. We are.” Rounding the bed, he came toward her on bare feet. Somehow she found the sight arousing, which only goaded her temper. The man was everything she did not want, and yet she wanted him more than anything.

“I am not a sex-obsessed female, Grayson, which is what your question implies.”

“You can be as sex-obsessed as you like. With me.”

“I cannot keep up with you,” she scoffed, backing away. “Eventually, you will fill the lack elsewhere.”

“Why worry about ‘eventually’ now?” His gaze penetrated as he stalked her. “Forget the past and the future. If there is one thing I learned over the last four years, it is that this moment is the one that matters.”

“How is that any different than how you lived before?” Sidestepping quickly, Isabel nearly ran to the door that led to her boudoir. She gasped as Gray caught her about the waist. The feel of him behind her-hard, aroused-flooded her with memories.

“Before,” he said harshly in her ear, “everything in my life could wait until another day. Visiting my estates, meeting with my stewards, seeing Lady Sinclair. Sometimes that other day never comes, Pel. Sometimes today is all there is.”

“See how different we are? I will always think of the future and how my actions today will come back to haunt me.”

With one arm banded around her waist, he used his free hand to knead her breast. Against her will, she moaned.

“I will haunt you.” Gray surrounded her, dominated her, teased her with his seductive touch. “I am not fool enough to cage you in, Isabel, not when we are already leg-shackled together.” With a curse, he released her. “I will remind you of that as often as is necessary.”

She spun to face him, her skin missing the touch of his. “I will not be guarded like a prisoner.”

“I’ve no wish to lessen your freedom.”

“Then why?”

“Soon others will know you have dismissed Hargreaves. They will sniff after you, and for the moment, I am unable to do aught about it.”

“Staking your claim?” she asked coldly.

“Protecting you.” Linking both arms behind his neck, he stretched and suddenly looked weary. “I returned for the express purpose of being a husband to you, I have said that from the first.”

“Please. We have run this into the ground.”

“Indulge me, vixen,” he said softly. “One day at a time, that is all I ask. Surely you can spare that much?”

“I have already-”

“How else can we live together? Answer me that.” His voice roughened as his arms fell to his sides. “Each craving the other…hungry…I am famished for you. Starving.”

“I know,” she whispered, feeling the great distance between them, even though they stood so close. Shivering with lust, her nipples hardened. She grew moist for him despite her soreness. “And I cannot sate you.”

“I did not sate you either. We spent mere hours together. Not nearly enough time.” Gray moved toward the door to make his egress.

“We have not finished discussing your three o’clock rule, Grayson.”

He stilled, but did not face her. In the candlelight, his hair gleamed with the vitality that defined him. “You stand there clad only in chemise and stockings, your body creamy and begging for a fucking. If I stay here a moment longer, that is what you will get, Pel.”

She hesitated, her arm lifting toward his tense back, a momentary sign of weakness before she could control it.

How else can we live together?

They couldn’t. Not for much longer.

Her hand dropped. “I shall be home by three.”

Gray nodded and left without looking back.

Gerard looked across his desk at Spencer and released a weary breath. There was too much turmoil in his life at the moment. The only time he felt remotely at peace with his return to London was when he was talking with Pel.

Not arguing. Talking.

He wished to God he understood her. Why was she so focused on the unraveling of a relationship that had yet to truly begin? To him that made as much sense as wearing a fur-lined coat in warm weather just because it would one day rain.

“This is not what I anticipated when I agreed to come here,” Spencer grumbled, shaking his head. His hair was overlong, and a thick lock fell over his forehead in a way Gerard knew would urge women to touch it. He knew because it was a style he once sported for that very reason. “I thought you and I would be going about town together.”

“And we shall, once I am suitably attired. In the meantime, I envy you an evening spent in Lady Grayson’s company. You will enjoy yourself, I can assure you.”

“Yes, but I was hoping to spend my evening with a woman I can fuck.”

“You will escort my wife home no later than three, and after that you are free to do as you please.” Gerard almost advised him to enjoy himself, since it was the last such late night Spencer would have in a while. But he held his tongue.

“Mother hates her, you know,” Spencer said, pausing briefly in front of the desk. “Truly detests her.”

“And you?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Do you truly wish to hear my opinion?”

“Certainly.” Gerard leaned back in his very uncomfortable chair and reminded himself to toss it out when the study was overhauled. “I’m curious to learn how you feel about my wife. You will be sharing a residence with her. Your thoughts, therefore, concern me.”

Spencer shrugged. “I cannot decide if I envy you or pity you. I’ve no notion how a peeress came to have a body like that. Pel’s beauty is not genteel in any fashion. That hair. Her skin. Her breasts. And for God’s sake, where in hell did she get those lips? Yes, I would give up a fortune for a woman like that in my bed. But to take one to wife?” He shook his head. “And yet both you and Pelham sought your pleasures outside the marriage bed. Can you tell me why?”

“Idiocy.”

“Ha!” Spencer laughed and strolled to the array of decanters. After pouring himself a drink, he turned and rested his hip against the mahogany table. His body was lean with youth, and Gerard studied him, trying to see how Pel must have seen him when they’d wed. Perhaps the contrast between himself and Spencer would facilitate his cause with his wife. Surely she could not fail to note how different he was now.

“And I’ve no wish to provoke you, Gray, but I prefer women who prefer me.”

“Perhaps that would have been possible, had I been here to see to her.”

“True.” Tossing back his drink, Spencer set his glass down and crossed his arms. “Will you be bringing her into line now?”

“She was never out of line.”

“If you say so,” Spencer said skeptically.

“I do. Now, I expect you to stay with Lady Grayson for the duration of your evening. Stay out of the card rooms and rein in your libidinous inclinations until she is home safely.”

“What, exactly, do you expect to happen to her?”

“Nothing, because you will be there.”

Gerard rose as Pel’s lush form filled the doorway. She wore pale pink, a color that should have made her look sweetly innocent; instead it emphasized her worldliness and vibrant sensuality. Her full breasts were beautifully showcased in the loving embrace of her high-waisted gown. The overall effect, to him, was of a sugar-coated treat. One he wished to nibble and consume until he was gorged.

He blew out his breath; his response to the mere sight of her was both primitive and instinctual. He wished to toss her over his shoulder, run up the stairs, and fuck like rabbits. The image was so absurd, he could not help but chuckle through a tortured groan.

“Come now,” she murmured with a slight smile. “I cannot look as bad as all that.”

“Good God,” Spencer cried out, moving forward to capture her hand and lift it to his lips. “I shall need a small sword to hold them off. But never fear, my dearest sister-in-law, I shall serve you until the very end.”

Isabel’s soft, husky laughter drifted through the study and weakened Gerard’s already shaky resolution to allow her to go. He was not a jealous man by nature, but Isabel resisted the connection he sought and his tenuous position in her life caused him a rare level of anxiety.

“How gallant of you, Lord Spencer,” she rejoined with a blinding smile. “It has been some time since I’ve enjoyed the company of a brazen rake.”

The warm appreciation in his brother’s eyes made Gerard grit his teeth. “I take it as my personal duty to fill that lack.”

“And you shall do so admirably, I have no doubt.”

His throat tight, Gerard cleared it, drawing their attention to him. Somehow he managed a smile that sparked a hot flicker in Pel’s eyes. Words were caught and held on his tongue, squelched before they could be freed. He was desperate to say things that would make her stay-anything and everything, so he would not have to spend the evening alone. The night before had been hell while she was gone. The air in their rooms was scented of her skin, making it more obvious how cold and lonely the house was without her vibrant presence.

He sighed in resignation and held out his hand, every muscle hardening when her gloved fingertips pressed lightly into his palm. He escorted her to the door, draped her in her cloak, and returned to his study window to watch his carriage carry her away.

She belonged to him, as surely as his entailed estates. Nothing and no one could take her away. But he had no wish to keep her by force. He wished to earn her regard, just as he had earned the respect of his tenants. Pride in ownership worked both ways, and until he’d worked side by side with his tenants on his many holdings-until he’d worn their clothes, attended their celebrations, and eaten at their ta bles-they’d had none for him, an errant lord who paid them no mind and felt no loyalty.

His methods had been extreme by any measure, and every time he moved his attentions to a new estate, he had to begin the process of building trust and respect anew. But it had been healing for him. A chance for him to find a home, a place to belong, things he’d never had before.

Now he knew it had been training for this. This was his true home. And if he could find a way to share it with Isabel, in every way, if he could cool his ardor enough and rein in the base needs that clawed at him, perhaps contentment with her could be his.

It was a goal worth striving for.

“She has thrown you over, has she, Lord Hargreaves?” asked a girlish voice beside him.

John turned his head away from the sight of Isabel across the ballroom, and bowed to the lovely brunette who spoke to him. “Lady Stanhope, a pleasure.”

“Grayson has ruined your cozy little arrangement,” she purred, her eyes leaving his to find Pel. “Look how zealously Lord Spencer guards her side. You know as well as I that he would not be here if Grayson had not ordered him to be. Makes one wonder why he is not here to see to the matter himself.”

“I have no wish to discuss Lord Grayson,” he said tightly. Unable to help himself, he stared at his former mistress. He still could not collect how everything could change so drastically in so short a time. Yes, he had noted Pel’s increasing restlessness, but their friendship had been strong and the sex as satisfying as always.

“Even if discussing him could return Lady Grayson’s attentions to you?”

His head whipped toward her. Dressed in blood red satin, Stanhope’s widow was hard to miss, even amongst the crowd. He had noted her several times over the course of the evening, especially since she seemed to be spending a great deal of her time studying him. “What are you saying?”

Lady Stanhope’s rouged mouth curved in a portentous smile. “I want Grayson. You want his wife. It would be to both of our benefits to work together.”

“I’ve no notion of what you are talking about.” But he was intrigued. And it showed.

“That’s fine, darling,” she drawled. “You can leave all the notions to me.”

“Lady Stanhope-”

“We are allies. Call me Barbara.”

The determined tilt of her chin and eyes as hard as the jade they resembled told John she knew what she was about. He glanced at Pel again and caught her staring back at him with her full bottom lip worried between her teeth. His pride smarted.

Barbara’s hand slipped around his arm. “Let’s walk, and I shall tell you what I have planned…”