Devil's Embrace (8 page)

Scargill shook his head slowly, his hazel eyes softening. “Ye’re wrong, lassie,” he said gently.

Cassie drew a shattered breath, and without thought to consequences, took two quick steps forward and hurled the remaining wine in the earl’s face.

“Oh, my God,” Scargill whispered behind her.

Anthony Welles silently drew a white lawn handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and mopped the wine from his face.

Scargill could not help but admire her, for although her face was perfectly white, her chin was thrust forward and her shoulders were squared.

The earl lowered the handkerchief and said quietly, “You may leave now. Cassandra and I wish to dine.”

“Aye, my lord,” Scargill said slowly, his eyes searching his master’s face.

The earl shut and locked the cabin door after his valet and walked to the filled basin atop the commode to dash water over his face and neck. He toweled himself dry and said calmly, “Sit down, Cassandra. Arturo went to great pains to prepare an English meal to your liking.”

Cassie looked at him uncertainly, for after her unthinking act, she had expected him to retaliate. She sat down at the table, unwilling for the moment at least to provoke him further.

She soon found that she was as hungry as she had been thirsty, for she had not eaten since breakfast.

He watched her wolf down a rare slice of roast beef, and a goodly portion of the boiled potatoes and parsley. Her hunger eased, she slowed and sat back in her chair.

“I am delighted that you approve of at least one thing I’ve done for you.”

She looked at him and he saw her fingers tighten about the stem of her newly filled wine glass.

“Do not do what you are thinking, Cassandra,” he said. “I allowed you one childish act, but no more.”

She gritted her teeth and raised the glass, but her hand shook.

“If you do what you are thinking, rest assured that I shall reciprocate.” He saw the unspoken question in her eyes. “If you hurl the wine at me, I shall throw you over my knee, bare your bottom, and thrash you.”

“You would not.”

“Try me, Cassandra.”

She slowly lowered the glass to the table and let her fingers fall away from it.

“Now, my dear, would you care to try some of my Italian coffee?”

“I am not your dear.”

“Coffee?”

She nodded, hopeful that the coffee would counteract the dizzying effects of the wine.

She walked to the settee and sat down, silently sipping the thick black liquid. When Scargill returned to clear the table, she saw the earl speak quietly to him, but she could not make out his words.

When they were once again alone, she stared at the huge dark man and felt a knife of fear twist in her stomach. “I want more coffee.”

The earl hesitated but an instant, then poured her half a cup.

To Cassie’s consummate embarrassment, she discovered that all the wine and coffee she had consumed had created a distressing problem. She shifted uncomfortably on the settee for some moments, and finally she said, “I have to—that is, I must— please leave me alone.”

The earl cocked his head to one side, then grinned. He rose and walked to the door. “The chamber pot is by the bed. You have five minutes, Cassandra, no more.”

After seeing to her most immediate need, Cassie looked frantically at the clock and saw that she had only two minutes before he would return. Though she knew she would not be able to keep him away from her, she pulled the heavy settee over and braced it against the locked door. She grew red in the face trying to push the table before she saw that it was fastened securely to the floor. She gave a cry of frustration and dashed to the far corner of the cabin when she heard the key turn in the lock.

She heard a low, deep chuckle and saw the settee move easily aside as he pushed open the door. The smile was still wide on his face when he came through the door.

“It appears that I gave you too much time. Perhaps next time I will not leave you.” His tone turned suddenly serious. “Come here, Cassandra, I would speak to you.”

She shook her head, fear clogging her throat.

“If you do not do as I tell you,” he continued patiently, “I shall simply carry you over here and sit you down.”

Her feet dragged forward, but she refused to sit in the chair, and stood facing him from across the small expanse of table.

He straddled a chair and regarded her in silence. He saw the stark fear on her face and regretted what he had to do. Better to get it over with quickly, he thought. He cleared his throat and said levelly, “As I said this afternoon, Cassandra, I intend that you become my wife.”

“And I think you dim-witted, my lord, for I told you this afternoon that your intention is mad. I would sooner wed the devil himself.”

“And to assist you to accept me more quickly as your husband, we will begin tonight in married intimacy.”

“No, damn you, no.”

“Yes, we shall.”

“I will not let you. Damn you, you will not touch me.”

“Cassandra, heed me. To allow you to continue in your virgin state would be the height of foolishness, for it would encourage you to nourish unfounded hopes and keep you all the longer away from me.”

“I am not a virgin,” she said baldly. She saw the flicker of surprise in his dark eyes, and hurried on. “Not only am I not a virgin, my lord earl, I am also pregnant. Nearly two months pregnant, my lord, with Edward Lyndhurst’s child. You waited too long to kidnap me, for I carry proof of my love for Edward.”

“That is not possible,” Anthony said slowly, his eyes flitting to her waist.

“Do not lie to yourself, my lord. Of a certainty it’s possible.” Her voice rose. “Let me tell you of it, my lord. Shortly after Edward’s return, he saw me swimming. It’s a lonely isolated stretch of beach, far away even from your prying eyes. As I was very nearly naked, he could not help himself. I much enjoyed the touch of his hands, the feel of his body against mine.” She saw that she had shaken him. “I am damaged goods, my lord, not the virgin wife you thought to have. You have another man’s woman and another man’s child on your hands.”

She gazed steadily at his face and crossed her arms over her belly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was curiously flat. “I am sorry, Cassandra, for now it will take you longer to forget your viscount. I shall not harm your child. Indeed, I shall raise it as my own.”

She jerked back, unable to believe his words. “You cannot mean it. Have you not understood me? I have freely given my body to another man. Damn you, you cannot still want me.”

He slowly unstraddled the chair and rose. “Come, my love, I will help you to undress.”

He stretched his hand to her.

“No,” she yelled and backed away from him. “You will not do this to me, do you hear?”

“Since you are not a virgin, Cassandra, and know a man’s body well, you must also know that I will not hurt you. You will learn my touch and the feel of my body against yours.” As he spoke, he moved slowly around the table. She saw the purpose in his eyes and ran to the corner of the cabin, her shoulders pressing against the windows astern. He loomed huge and dark, towering over
her. She struggled wildly when he clasped her shoulders, trying to twist free of him. She jerked up her knee, but it connected with his thigh. He pinioned her arms easily against her sides and lifted her to his shoulder, one hand cupping her hips and the other holding her legs tightly against his chest.

He dropped her onto the bed and sat down beside her, holding her hands above her head. “Don’t fight me, Cassandra, it will change naught.” His mouth closed over hers.

“No,” she yelled, and twisted her face away from him. She arched her back and brought up her legs to kick at his back.

In a swift movement, he uncoiled his body and lay beside her, throwing his leg over hers to hold her still. He felt the giving softness of her, and instinctively moved atop her, and pressed himself against her.

He saw that her eyes were filled with fear and forced himself for the moment to calm his desire. He gently stroked the firm line of her jaw, the whiteness of her throat, his touch light and undemanding.

“Do not do this to me,” she whispered.

“I must, Cassandra.”

She felt his hand upon her breast, and his touch, hated and alien, unleashed her fear. She writhed and twisted until one of her hands slipped loose from his grasp, and she raked her bandaged fingernails down his face.

He rolled suddenly off her and rose to stand beside the bed. She watched him in frozen silence as he shrugged off his waistcoat and his white shirt, baring his chest. He was not lean and slender like Edward. His chest was covered with black curling hair. Her eyes fell to his muscled flat belly above the line of his breeches, and in a spasm of terror, she tried to fling herself past him. He picked her up easily with one arm and tossed her lightly back onto the bed.

“Cassandra, listen to me,” he said sharply. “If I must rape you, then so be it, but I will not allow you to fight me like some wild thing. You will only hurt yourself, and
I do not wish it. Either you accept me, or I shall tie you down.”

“I will never stop fighting you. Never, do you hear me?”

“Very well,” he said flatly, and strode away from the bed, out of her view.

She scurried to the far side of the bed and came up on her knees, her back flattened against the rich mahogany paneling and crossed her shaking arms over her body.

He appeared suddenly, two silk handkerchiefs in his hand. She shrank back.

“Stay away from me.”

But he climbed swiftly over to her and dragged her back toward him. He straddled her, holding one arm down beneath him while he grabbed her wrist and swiftly knotted a handkerchief about it. He jerked her arm up and secured the other end to a wooden lattice in the headboard. She heaved wildly beneath him, but if he felt pain from her legs striking his back, he gave no notice. He pulled her other arm above her head and secured it. She felt the silk tighten about her wrists as she struggled to free herself. He moved off her and she lay panting, staring up at him, her eyes dark with fear.

She tried to stop the deep upward and downward heaving of her breasts as his hands moved over them, unbuttoning her bodice. He appeared unhurried in his undressing of her.

“You have set me a problem,” he remarked. “How am I to get that dress off you with your wrists secured?”

“Go to the devil.”

“I must sacrifice your gown, I fear,” he continued, as if she had not spoken. He unfastened the small buttons at her wrists, and in a powerful motion, ripped the sleeves up to her shoulders and jerked open the fine stitching about her throat. His hands were curiously gentle as he pulled her free of her bodice. He untied the ribbons of her chemise and eased her out of the material, leaving her naked to the waist.

He gave a sharp intake of breath and gazed down at her.
“I had imagined that you would be all pink and white, Cassandra. You are quite exquisite.”

“I cannot be so different from your women in Italy, my lord.”

“But you are, my love, quite different,” he said. She felt his hands move lightly over her. She swallowed an impotent cry and concentrated on her hatred of him. She lay rigid even as his mouth closed over her and she felt his tongue.

“Stop it,” she yelled, arching and twisting her back to escape him.

The earl circled her waist with his hands to hold her still and let his mouth rove over her breasts, loving the feel of her. He felt her shudder, not with desire, but with fear, and for an instant, he hesitated. He had envisioned many times possessing her body, bringing her to a woman’s pleasure, and felt a shaft of anger at Edward Lyndhurst for being the first to awaken her. He thought about the viscount’s child lying small in her womb and cursed himself for not having taken her a year ago, when she was seventeen. He raised his head from her breasts and saw her eyes were tightly closed, her lips drawn in a thin line.

He drew a resolute breath and quickly removed the remainder of her clothes. When she was naked, he rose slowly and stared down at her. She lay motionless, her face turned away, her thighs locked together. His eyes followed the curved, soft lines of her, from her slender waist to her flat white belly. His gaze lingered upon the curling blond triangle of hair that covered her, and he was startled at the delicate yet provocative sensuousness of her. He felt a surge of lust for her, and pictured her long legs wrapped about him, drawing him deep inside her. He wanted to part her, caress her, taste her. He was hard, straining against his breeches, and with a low moan, he shucked off the rest of his clothes.

Cassie heard his boots fall to the floor, and, despite herself, turned her face on the pillow toward him. He stood before her, indifferent in his nakedness. Her eyes fell
inevitably to the mass of black hair at his groin, and she gasped aloud at the sight of him.

She struggled at the bonds about her wrists and jerked her hips away from him.

“I won’t hurt you, Cassandra, you know that.” He sat down beside her and stroked her belly, caressing her, until he was touching her. She tried vainly to jerk away from him, her legs flailing wildly, but he held her down with his body. He eased his fingers between her thighs and stroked her gently.

“You are beautiful.” She felt his fingertips stroking her thighs, probing at her, and she felt a shuddering sensation that made her draw in her breath.

“Please stop,” she said breathlessly, pressing her thighs together, away from his fingers.

“No, my love. Relax, give in to me, Cassandra.” He pulled her thighs apart and held her open to him with his body. He lowered his head and she felt his mouth touch her. She frantically tried to jerk away.

“No. Damn you, no.”

Reluctantly, he released her. He straddled her quickly and lifted her hips up on a pillow. She felt his fingers part her and arched upward to see him guiding himself into her.

Her cries died in her throat when he suddenly went rigid over her, straining against her. Her eyes flew open and she saw him staring at her in bemused surprise.

“You little liar,” he said softly, incredulously. “By God, you missed your calling, Cassandra. It’s an actress you should have been. So you are pregnant, my love? Quite an accomplishment I should say, given that your maidenhead is very much intact. No wonder your shock at seeing a naked man.” He pulled away from her and rose.