Читать книгу The Regency Season Collection: Part One - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 28

Chapter Six

‘Zachary, I do not...’

‘Yes,’ he murmured with satisfaction, his eyes glittering down at her intently as he stepped even closer to her, his thighs almost touching hers as he raised a hand to cup one of her cheeks. ‘Say it again, Georgianna,’ he encouraged huskily as his thumb moved caressingly across her lower lip.

She flicked her tongue out with the intention of moistening her suddenly dry lips, quickly withdrawing it again as she inadvertently caught the edge of Zachary’s thumb, instantly able to taste the tangy salty sweetness of his skin. ‘Zachary,’ she protested weakly.

His thumb was a rousing caress in the tiny indentation in the centre of the fullness of her bottom lip. ‘Are you wearing the white silk drawers tonight, Georgianna? The ones with the little lilac bows?’

Georgianna was so lost in the burning heat of that silver gaze that it took several seconds for her to realise exactly what Zachary had said. Her cheeks blushed a fiery red as she acknowledged the intimacy of his question. ‘How did you know about...? You were responsible for packing my things earlier,’ she said, remembering in embarrassed consternation.

He gave a feral grin. ‘And I have been imagining you wearing those drawers ever since.’

Georgianna breathed shallowly. Zachary’s close proximity, and that caressing thumb against her lip, made it difficult for her to think, let alone breathe.

‘And the matching camisole,’ he continued softly, his breath a warm caress as he lowered his head, his lips a light caress against the warmth of her throat. ‘Are you wearing them both tonight, Georgianna?’

His feather-light kisses burned an arousing path down the length of her throat to the sensitive hollows beneath. Georgianna was barely breathing at all now, her hands moving up to grasp his muscled shoulders even as she arched her neck into that sensuous caress. ‘Zachary, you have to stop,’ she attempted half-heartedly.

‘Why must I?’ His hands moved down to her hips, moulding the softness of her curves against his much harder ones as his tongue dipped moistly and then withdrew from those hollows at the base of her throat, sending shivers of pleasure down the length of her spine. ‘We are neither of us is involved with anyone else. Are we?’

‘No.’ The heat coursed through her body, tightening her breasts under her gown and camisole, warming between her thighs beneath her drawers, only the soft sighs of their ragged breathing now to charge the air. It made it impossible for Georgianna to think of a single reason why Zachary should stop.

That Zachary was equally affected was apparent by his ragged breathing and the throbbing length of his desire as his thighs pressed along the welcoming softness of her abdomen.

‘Are you wearing them, Georgianna?’ he pressed gruffly.

‘I am, yes,’ she confirmed softly, her legs feeling so weak now she was sure that if she were not clinging to the firmness of Zachary’s shoulders she might find herself sinking down on to the carpeted floor at his feet.

She truly felt in danger of doing exactly that, as Zachary continued to lick and taste the length of her throat even as one of his hands slowly skimmed along the length of her hip and waist before cupping beneath the firm fullness of her breast. Her nipple instantly responded, swelling, engorging beneath the thin material of her gown and camisole in reaction to that caressing heat.

This was madness.

Complete madness.

And yet Georgianna had no strength to stop it. No will to pull away from Zachary. From the pleasure created by his lips and hands. From the closeness of him. From feeling wanted, held, for the first time in months.

And that was all this was, Georgianna told herself firmly. A need, an ache, to feel wanted and to be held. ‘Have you forgotten I might be a spy?’ She sought desperately for a return to sanity.

Zachary raised his head to look at her with mercurial grey eyes. There was a flush to the hardness of his cheeks and the darkness of his hair was dishevelled. ‘I have forgotten nothing, Georgianna,’ he assured huskily. ‘If anything, I find that edge of danger only makes you more intriguing. Besides which, if you are a spy, then you are currently an imprisoned one. My imprisoned spy.’ He smiled his satisfaction with that fact.

Georgianna drew her breath in sharply as she once again felt the soft pad of his thumb caress across the hardened tip of her breast.

‘Perhaps that was my plan all along?’ She tried to fight the sensations currently bombarding her senses: pleasure, arousal, heat. ‘Has it not occurred to you that maybe my plan is to stab you at the dinner table with a knife from your own ducal-silver dinner service?’ she persisted breathlessly even as she found it impossible not to arch once again into that marauding mouth as it continued to plunder the sensitive column of her throat.

‘No.’ Zachary smiled against the fluttering wildness of the pulse in her throat. He might have become slightly blasé these past few months, but he was nevertheless positive his self-defence skills were still as sharp. ‘Because I very much doubt you will find the opportunity. Or, if you did, that my strength would not far outweigh your own.’

‘Then perhaps it is my intention to hide one of the knives and take it back upstairs with me, so that I can stab you later, while you sleep?’ There was now an edge of desperation to Georgianna’s voice; she simply couldn’t allow this to continue.

Zachary deftly released the first button at the throat of her gown. ‘Then I will have to ensure that the door between our two bedchambers remains locked at night.’

‘I do not believe you are taking me seriously.’

‘When I am holding you in my arms and about to kiss you? No, you may be assured I am not taking your threats seriously at all, Georgianna,’ he acknowledged gruffly.

‘Zachary!’

‘Georgianna,’ he chided gently as he released the second button and revealed the top of the silky smooth skin above the swell of her breasts.

‘I cannot... This is not—’ She broke off abruptly as Zachary claimed her mouth with his and silenced her protest.

She tasted as delicious as she smelt, of honey and roses, and everything that was so sweetly, temptingly Georgianna.

Zachary groaned low in his throat as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down the length of her spine to cup the sweet curve of her bottom and pull her closer against him, the length of his arousal nestling into the heated welcome of her abdomen.

Georgianna could not think, could only continue to cling to the strength of Zachary’s shoulders as the firmness of his mouth now claimed, devoured, her own.

She felt dizzy, light-headed, as her body burned, a heated dampness moistening between her thighs as Zachary cupped the rounded globes of her bottom and held her firmly into and against him. Her breasts were crushed to the hardness of Zachary’s muscled chest, the length of his erection pounding, pulsing, to the same rhythm as his heart beating so erratically against hers as his hands now roamed restlessly up the length of her spine.

A need, a want, a desire Georgianna became totally lost in. Until she felt the warmth of one of Zachary’s hands against the bare skin at her throat and then lower still as he cupped the bareness of her breast beneath the material of her gown.

Her emotions immediately turned to one of panic as she realised that Zachary must have unfastened all the buttons down the front of her gown as they kissed, the material now gaping wide and revealing everything.

She wrenched her mouth from beneath his, both her hands moving up to push him aside as she pulled the sides of her gaping gown back over her chest, before glaring up at him accusingly. ‘You will stop this immediately!’

His eyes narrowed to silver slits, that flush still to his cheeks and his hair dishevelled on his brow. ‘Why?’

‘Because I cannot allow this. It is...’ Georgianna gave a shake of her head, feeling as if she were floundering, much like a fish newly hooked on the line and brought to shore. A fact Zachary was wholly aware of, if the mocking challenge in those silver eyes was any indication. And she had no doubt that it was. ‘Because I do not want you,’ she spat out determinedly as she hastily refastened the buttons on her gown.

‘All evidence to the contrary, my dear Georgianna.’ Zachary’s insolent gaze moved slowly over her flushed face, slightly swollen lips, and then down the length of her throat and chest to where her nipples still pushed against the fabric of her gown.

Geogianna’s lips firmed as she determinedly refused to follow the direction of that insolent gaze. ‘That is purely a physical reaction to a man’s touch. Any man’s touch,’ she added defiantly as he appeared satisfied at the admission. ‘I assure you, my intellect tells me something else completely.’

‘Intellect has very little to do with physical arousal,’ he allowed disgustedly, all humour now gone. ‘If it did, then I should not find myself in the least aroused by you, either.’

Georgianna flinched inwardly at the deliberate insult. ‘Then we are in agreement on the subject, because my head tells me I should not allow a man such as you to take liberties.’

‘A man such as me?’

She met his gaze defiantly. ‘A libertine who is not to be trusted.’

Humour lit Zachary’s eyes as he stepped back to regard her through narrowed lids. Admiration, too, because Georgianna Lancaster was, without a doubt, now a woman he could admire. Oh, not for her political beliefs, if indeed she should turn out to be a Trojan Horse for Rousseau’s cause, but most definitely for the courage she had shown in the face of her present dilemma.

She was a woman who believed herself disgraced in English society. A woman who had nevertheless returned to England, only to now find herself a prisoner of the very gentleman she had once been betrothed to. Her suggestion earlier that it might have been deliberate on her part was, Zachary was sure, completely untrue; Georgianna had been far too genuinely shocked and outraged at finding herself incarcerated in his home for it to have been her intention all along.

And this, taking advantage of Georgianna, making love to her, when she was a prisoner in his home, was not a gentlemanly thing for him to do.

Georgianna’s past behaviour might render her undeserving of such consideration on his part, but that did not mean he had to lose all honour.

Most especially when he still had no idea, as yet, as to whether or not Georgianna was merely Rousseau’s minion, sent to England, to Zachary, at the other man’s bidding.

The fact that she was now repelling his advances was, perhaps, a mark in her favour; a devious and manipulative woman would surely have used his obvious attraction to her own advantage?

Georgianna Lancaster was more than just a fully mature woman now, Zachary acknowledged, she was also an intriguing one. One who appealed to him on several levels. In her character. Intellectually. And certainly physically.

Which was all the more reason for him to keep his distance, at least until after he had confirmed, one way or the other, as to whether or not she was telling him the truth.

And if her information should prove correct, then he might no longer be given a choice about keeping his distance, because Georgianna would want nothing more to do with him after the way he had treated her whilst holding her prisoner.

His mouth twisted mockingly. ‘It takes one to know one, my dear Georgianna.’

Georgianna gasped, her face paling at what she knew to be another deliberately delivered insult and a direct reference to her scandalous behaviour the previous year. ‘I believe I will go back upstairs to my room now.’

‘You have not eaten any dinner.’

‘I am not hungry.’

The duke’s lips firmed with his displeasure. ‘It is no wonder you are now thin as a stick, if you do not eat.’

Georgianna refused, absolutely refused, to spill the heat of tears that now blurred her vision. ‘You did not seem to have any complaints a few minutes ago, your Grace,’ she reminded stiffly.

He shrugged wide shoulders. ‘Thankfully the size of your breasts does not seem to have suffered in the process.’

Colour now burned Georgianna’s cheeks. ‘You are truly insufferable.’

He raised dark brows. ‘Was that ever in any doubt?’

‘Obviously not.’ She blinked back those tears as she lowered her lashes before turning away, no longer willing to even look at that triumphantly mocking face. ‘If you would care to act the turnkey again, I am more than ready to return to my room.’

Zachary cursed himself for feeling every kind of monster as he gazed upon the stiff slenderness of Georgianna’s back and the vulnerability of her exposed nape, knowing he could not give in to the impulse he felt to take her back into his arms and apologise for having deliberately insulted her.

For having hurt her?

Her eyes had looked awash with tears again before she lowered those long, protective lashes, as if his cutting words really had injured her feelings.

Damn it, how long could it take to confirm or deny Georgianna’s information? Zachary wondered impatiently. How much longer did he have to wait before he...?

Before he what? Exactly what difference was it going to make to Zachary’s dealings with Georgianna once he did know the truth?

Georgianna might have responded to him a short time ago, but she also so obviously despised him, and herself, for that response. He could not see anything, even the unlikely confirmation of her information being true, ever changing that.

‘Very well.’ Zachary nodded abruptly, having no appetite himself now. For dinner, at least. ‘But a dinner tray will be brought up to your room.’

Her head remained bowed as she nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘And you will eat its contents,’ he added sternly.

Humour glinted in her eyes as she looked across at him. ‘Must I remind you that your dictates to me so far have not proved in the least successful?’

No, Zachary needed no reminding of Georgianna’s wilfulness. Or of his own response to those displays of stubbornness. ‘That is because you are contrary in the extreme.’

‘That being the case, perhaps you should have instructed me not to eat the food on the dinner tray rather than to eat it?’

‘That would be a useless exercise now that we have discussed the possibility,’ Zachary dismissed impatiently. ‘Eat, or do not eat,’ he advised wearily. ‘Personally, I grew bored with the subject some minutes ago.’

As Georgianna had no doubt he was bored with having her in his home. With her. And who could blame him? It was so obviously not his choice, but had been foisted upon him by his superior. As she had been foisted on him.

Zachary could not really be blamed for having tried to lighten that burden by entertaining himself in making love to her. A woman whose intimate association with another man put her well beyond the need for either respect or maidenly consideration from the top-lofty Duke of Hawksmere.

She straightened her shoulders. ‘Then I will relieve you of the necessity of suffering any more boredom by removing myself from your presence, so allowing you to go out and seek more entertaining and exciting company.’

Frustration surged inside Zachary as he eyed her impatiently, knowing he did not find Georgianna in the least boring. Indeed, she continued to intrigue and entertain him in a way he could not remember feeling with any other woman. Nor could he recall ever being anywhere near as ‘excited’ by another woman, as he had been just from kissing and caressing Georgianna.

He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘That is very considerate of you.’

‘I thought so, too,’ she riposted drily.

Georgianna’s sense of humour so appealed to his own that Zachary knew if he did not have a care he would find himself laughing once again, a move guaranteed to completely nullify the distance that he had deliberately put between them this past few minutes. It was a distance Zachary knew he desperately needed to maintain if he were to continue to keep the upper hand with this particular woman. If, indeed, he still had it. If he had ever had it?

Georgianna’s flight from a marriage to him ten months ago would seem to imply, that even as the flirtatious and slightly immature Lady Georgianna Lancaster, she had possessed a wilfulness that had been strong enough to at least ensure the unwanted marriage did not take place. The Georgianna who had returned from France was even more determined to defy, and alternately beguile, him at every turn.

Zachary held himself stiffly. ‘Luckily I do not need your permission to do anything I wish, or go anywhere I please, whereas the same obviously cannot be said of you.’ He eyed her challengingly.

Rebellion glowed in those violet-coloured eyes. ‘The bedchamber you have allocated for my use is far superior to my lodgings at Mrs Jenkins’s house. It also has the added advantage of being given to me completely free of charge.’

Experience, so far in their reacquaintance, had served to show Zachary that it was doubtful he would ever manage to have the last word in a conversation with this particular woman. ‘That could change at any moment,’ he drawled challengingly in an attempt to do so.

Her chin rose stubbornly as she met that challenge. ‘Your threats grow as wearisome to me as my company has become boring to you.’

The smile refused to be denied this time as Zachary gave a weary, defeated shake of his head. His lack of sleep the night before was certainly taking its toll on him now. A disadvantage Georgianna obviously did not suffer from. ‘I do believe your tenacity of will has worn me down for this evening, Georgianna.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ she replied pertly. ‘Now, if you will excuse me? I really would prefer to return to my room.’

And Zachary, much as he might prefer to go out for the rest of the evening, well away from the temptation of knowing Georgianna was in the bedchamber adjoining his own, now knew himself to be so tired, from lack of sleep and the exhaustion of constantly crossing verbal swords with Georgianna, that he wanted nothing more than to go to his own bedchamber and sleep like the dead for a dozen hours or more.

He nodded abruptly. ‘I will arrange for Hinds to bring you up a tray of food shortly.’

She arched one dark brow. ‘Do you not intend to lock me in again first?’

He smiled slightly. ‘I believe Hinds may find it rather difficult to deliver your tray if the door is locked.’

‘And if I should attempt to escape in the meantime?’

Zachary took two predatory steps forward, coming to a halt just inches in front of Georgianna and forcing her to tilt her head back in order to look up at him.

‘If you were to escape, Georgianna, then I should then have the pleasure of tracking you down,’ he told her softly. ‘And when I had, you may be assured I should extract the necessary revenge for your having dared to defy me.’

Georgianna repressed a shiver of apprehension as she saw the raw intensity of emotion glittering in the hard depths of Zachary’s eyes. Challenge. Confidence. Amusement.

It was the latter emotion that caused her to straighten resentfully. ‘You would have to find me first. Something I believe you were not too successful in doing ten months ago,’ she added with deliberate sweetness.

His lids narrowed about those silver eyes. ‘Perhaps that is because I did not bother to look too hard for my obviously reluctant bride?’

Colour warmed her cheeks. ‘As you had never so much as bothered even speaking to her, I am not surprised. Indeed, as I have already told you, my only surprise is that you haven’t found my replacement and married since.’

Zachary looked down at her coldly, only too well aware that his time for marrying, and producing an heir, was ticking by faster than he would have wished. ‘Perhaps that is because I have decided to be more cautious in my second attempt at matrimony.’

‘How sad to know you were the second choice for the Duke of Hawksmere’s duchess!’ she retorted tartly.

He drew in a sharp breath. ‘My wife will not be my second choice, but the correct one. Which you, most assuredly, were not.’

The colour deepened in Georgianna’s cheeks. ‘Then it appears we may both be thankful for having escaped such an ill-matched union.’

‘Indeed, we can,’ Zachary bit out harshly.

They stared each other down for several more long seconds before Georgianna turned sharply on her heel and walked hastily from the room.

Much as he might wish to, Zachary did not trouble himself in following her, knowing he was in no mood at the moment to deal with her gently. Besides, he had meant it when he said he would very much enjoy the pleasure of recapturing her, and extracting payment, if she should try to escape Hawksmere House.

And him.