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“Victoria, I have decided that we will travel to Falmouth on the morrow. Is that all right with you?”
She nodded, saying nothing. He saw her lift one of the dolls and hold it close to her chest.
His lips thinned. He hugged Damaris, set her away from him, and left the nursery, not looking back.
Victoria didn’t move. She watched him, listened to his footsteps as they retreated down the long corridor. What would he have done if she’d been alone? What would he do when he learned the truth? She shivered. She disliked Damien profoundly, but she liked her cousin, at least most of the time she did.
She didn’t want Elaine hurt.
It was late afternoon and he was lying in wait. He despised himself for what he intended, but at the same time he was determined. His very stubborn jaw grew more so.
He saw her coming toward him, walking slowly, her head lowered. What was she thinking? Feeling?
“Victoria.”
She stopped abruptly, but didn’t look directly at him. No, she was looking toward the ridiculous gaggle of ducks marching about Fletcher’s Pond.
“I’ve been waiting for you. I was told that you come here a lot.”
That got her attention. She looked at him, her face calm, then puzzled.
“What do you mean?” she asked, not coming closer.
He walked to her. “I mean that your husband told me of your preference for the ducks and the pond.”
“I see. What do you want, Damien?”
“Why, my love, I want to finish what we began this morning. Isn’t that also your wish?” He reached out his hand and lightly stroked his fingertips over her wrist. She jumped, pulling back her hand.
She felt as cold as an ember in July. So that was the way of it. Slowly she nodded, and looked up at him. “Yes,” she said, her voice low and as seductive as she could make it. “Yes, I should very much like to finish what we began.” She put her hands, palms flat, on his shoulders and gave him a smile that would melt a stone. “You no longer think badly of me for turning you down this morning? I had to, you know. Rafael could have been anywhere, quite close even. Yes, but now that I know we’re alone, I want you.”
He sucked in his breath, then let the air hiss through his teeth. “Victoria,” he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her.
The instant his mouth touched hers, Victoria, despite her rage, felt intense pleasure. Didn’t he know? She wondered, furious now, more furious by the minute. Why couldn’t he simply believe her? She smiled and melted against him. Her lips parted and she yielded, every part of her giving and wanting.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered into his mouth, her breath warm and gentle. “I want you so very much, Damien.”
She felt him stiffen at her words, and she pressed her belly against him. His hands were on her hips, kneading her soft flesh, then lifting her against him. She made no demur, indeed, she clasped him more tightly to her.
He wedged his hand between her thighs, touching her, caressing her through her clothing.
Suddenly, without warning, she jerked away. She kicked him hard in the shin. He yelped, jumping on his right foot.
“You bastard. You miserable, unmitigated bastard. I shall never forgive you this, Rafael. Never.”
“Victoria.” He felt bizarre, as if he’d walked onto the stage of a play he himself had penned, only to have his leading lady go off on a tangent. And find him out. But when? At what point?
He saw her ready for another attack and yelled, “Stop.”
“You may go directly to the devil, Rafael.”
The instant she’d flung the words at him, she was running away. “Your leg.” He called after her. “Take care.”
“Ha.”
Her sneering voice floated back to him, but he remained where he was. Well, that was that. He rubbed his shin, then straightened, only to see Clarence eyeing him.
“Sorry, Duke, no bread for you today.”
