The crystal snapped in Grayson’s hand.“There will be no lovers,” he said through gritted teeth.He dropped the pieces of glass to the floor and wiped his hand with a handkerchief.A cut on his palm oozed blood, and he wrapped it.
“Lud, you’ve hurt yourself.Demmed shoddy cups!”Raleigh said, calling for a servant.“Now, where were we?Ah, yes!But the only couples I know who confine their favors to each other are those bound not just by vows, but by love.”Raleigh paused to beard him with a knowing gaze that mocked his fierce one.“Do you love her?”
Grayson did not deign to answer, for Raleigh had gone beyond the bounds of their friendship.Rarely was he questioned, and, certainly, never taunted.No one dared.
His immediate inclination was to punch the affected little twit in his handsome face.Instead, he simply turned and walked away, a restlessness driving him away from the viscount, away from the tables, away from the club.
Kate.Kate.Kate.Like some primitive music, her name thrummed through his blood in time with his heart, even though he refused to consider the significance.
Kate was still awake when she heard Grayson enter his room.Although she turned away from the sounds, she could imagine him tossing his coat upon a chair, tugging at his neckcloth, removing his shirt… Her vast room suddenly seemed close and hot, and Kate threw off the blanket she had been clutching tightly.
Gradually, quiet descended once more, but it brought her no relief.Was he in bed?Was he naked?Kate rolled over, the soft feather mattress acquiring lumps as she fought off visions of Grayson without his clothes.Unfortunately, she remembered his body all too well and conjured it easily in her mind, golden with candlelight, dark and enticing.
Rattle.Kate stiffened as the handle of the door between their rooms turned.Thump.It caught upon the chair she had anchored there.Although she had constructed the makeshift lock in an attempt to keep him out, she had never really planned for him to discover it.
She had thought he would stay out carousing with his London friends until the wee hours, then fall into bed alone.Had he not objected to her presence there?
Yet, here he was, home early and trying to reach her.Would he take the hint and give up?Not likely, for Grayson never allowed his plans to be thwarted.The ensuing silence was rather eerie, and Kate held her breath.
She stared at the other entrance off the narrow hall, wondering if he would come through it or return to the entertainments awaiting him in Town.And she did not know which resolution to hope for as she waited.
Crash!Kate flinched as the chair she had wedged beneath the door handle flew into the air and the door itself banged violently against the wall.In the aftermath stood Grayson, a tall, dark figure filling the threshold with a vague menace that made her shiver.
“Are you trying to keep me out, poppet?”The low velvet purr of his voice, so at odds with his recent violence, reminded her just how dangerous he was, but Kate would not quail before him.She sat up straight, the massive headboard behind her, and lifted her chin.
“You complained of my presence in your bed this morning.”
“Did I?How gauche of me,” Grayson replied, stepping into the room.He wore a long robe of dark silk that moved when he walked, falling in soft folds over his hard body, and Kate swallowed at his approach.He stopped beside her, and the sight of him, shadowy in the dying firelight, made her throat go dry.
“In the future, you will sleep with me.Always,” he said, in a harsh tone that hinted at a deeper meaning.“Now, be a good wife and help me out of this.”
It was a challenge.Kate knew that, but the great Wroth had capitulated.What more could she expect?
The misery of London and a house full of strangers faded under the heat of his gaze, and Kate slowly rose to her knees before him.Her fingers trembled as she untied the knot at his waist and the robe fell free to reveal his broad chest, its dusting of hair leading downward.
Reaching up, she slid the silk from his shoulders and let it fall down his body in a sensuous glide.Then she pressed kisses to his chest, ran her palms across the crisp curls, touching him as freely as she had always wanted to do, and nipped at the hard muscles that covered his ribs.
“Hmm.Biting me again, are you?”he asked, reminding her of their original encounter in the study below.
How could he speak?How could he think?Kate’s mind was dazed, her limbs like jelly, yet he stood before her, controlled and steady.Obviously, she would have to change her tactics.Trailing her kisses downward, Kate dipped her tongue into his navel and touched him.
She knew a sense of triumph at the swift intake of his breath, but soon he lifted the hem of her nightgown and drew it up slowly.Then, tossing the garment aside, he pushed her back upon the bed and moved over her.
“Don’t lock me out, Kate.Don’t ever lock me out.”The words, uttered in a hoarse whisper, were both a warning and a plea.But before she could answer, Grayson took her face in his hands and drew her mouth up to his.
It seemed to Kate that he kissed each inch of her: her eyelids, behind her ear, the pulse that throbbed at her wrist, the arch of her foot, her ankle, and the soft spot behind her knee.His lips were everywhere, moist and hot, finally settling upon that most intimate of places, his tongue claiming mastery over her senses.
Grasping the sheets in a tortured grip, Kate cried out his name and wondered how she could ever deny him.
Chapter Sixteen
Grayson was as good as his word.He escorted her everywhere, showing her parts of the great city that she had never seen, the elegant entertainments and exotic sights reserved for those with money to spend.
Although Kate vaguely remembered visits from her childhood, not since tragedy struck Hargate had she stepped into this glittering world, and never as a marchioness.She was both enthralled and dismayed by her views of London—and the way London viewed her.
People stared.It was to be expected, Kate told herself.Grayson was a well-known figure, and anyone seen with him would be noted with interest.However, the gaping that she faced on the streets soon gave way to more pointed attention, until Kate felt like one of the animals in the Tower menagerie.
Ladies whispered behind their fans of the marquess’ sudden marriage and her suitability as his wife, while men speculated on her charms in an outrageous manner.Although Grayson had put about the story of their long engagement, the gossips were not satisfied with such a tame explanation of the nuptials.They talked of her father’s mésalliance, her parents’ deaths, and once or twice Jasper’s name was mentioned in the dark tones befitting a black sheep.
