«Why have you never done this to me before?» she murmured.
«I was just wondering the same thing.»
His palms slid higher. She sighed and shifted languidly.
«I’m all unraveled. ’Tisquite wonderful.»
«Yes,» Wolfe said huskily.
Closing his eyes, he savored the sleek resilience of Jessica’s flesh, the warm shifting of her body, the languid sighs. He knew he must stop touching her soon, for the hunger of his own body was becoming unmanageable.
Yet the soft temptations of her flesh were so close to hand, so hot, that he couldn’t force himself to withdraw right away. She was a heady fragrance and a hard need that was eroding his control as surely as he was unraveling her fear of a man’s touch. The blanket retreated before his gently insistent hands, leaving her secrets defended only by the mahogany cloud he longed to brush with his palm.
Then Jessica shifted again and the cloud parted, and a low sound of need was dragged from Wolfe. His hand moved, brushed, lingered, burned. Then his fingers were seeking and finding and testing the softness that had been revealed.
The intimate caress sent Jessica bolt upright with a gasp of mingled pleasure and shock. When she saw Wolfe’s hand between her legs, pleasure fled and shock became fear fed by a torrent of brutal memories. In her mind a stormy night descended and her mother screamed from the hallway floor as the lord ruthlessly pulled her legs apart.
«No!» Jessica cried.
«Easy, little one,» Wolfe said thickly. «I won’t hurt you. It’s a natural part of —»
His words were lost beneath the raw scream that tore from Jessica’s throat. She moved convulsively to defend herself, but her arms were too weak to push away a child, much less a man of Wolfe’s strength. She drew breath to scream again, only to have a hard hand clamp over her mouth, forcing her back down upon the bed.
It was her nightmare all over again, a woman’s screams cut off by the brute force of a husband intent upon rutting between his wife’s legs. Jessica tossed and thrashed from side to side, but couldn’t shake off the hand over her mouth or the heavy thigh pinning her own legs to the bed. Shuddering, wild with fear, she flailed against Wolfe with weak arms until he gathered her wrists in one hand and held them against her naked stomach.
«Jessi, listen to me, I won’t hurt you.»
If she heard, she didn’t respond.
As Wolfe looked down at Jessica’s struggling body, he felt a volatile combination of frank lust, shame at his loss of control, and anger at her wild fear.
«Be still, damn it,» Wolfe said curtly. «I won’t touch you. Do you understand me? Jessica!»
Wolfe had to repeat himself several times before Jessica subsided and lay still but for the involuntary tremors that shook her body, residue of her terror.
«I’m going to lift my hand from your mouth, but if you scream again, so help me God I’ll slap you into sanity as I would any hysteric.»
Jessica watched Wolfe with pale, glittering eyes. There was no comfort in his face — his eyes were black, his face dark and grim, his mouth a flat line. Even so, she nodded her head, for his hand was no longer invading her body. Slowly, Wolfe freed her mouth.
Jessica didn’t scream, even though she was pale and trembling. When she spoke, her voice was like breaking glass and her breath was coming in bursts. Despite that, her words were all too clear.
«No wonder you were called theviscount’ssalvage. Gentlemen who can’t control their baser urges make use of whores, not wives. If I had thought you would ever do anything so vile to me, I would never have sought a marriage. You have no need of an heir to inherit a title or a great estate, no reason to so foul my body, yet you would rut upon me like a beast!»
Wolfe looked down into Jessica’s face and felt her contempt beating at him with thick, invisible wings. Silence stretched and stretched until it was a living thing quivering between Jessica and Wolfe.
«What do you expect?» Wolfe snarled. «Ever since we got on the stagecoach together I’ve been breathing your air and watching you look at me when you think I won’t notice.»
Jessica didn’t deny it, for it was true. She had always watched Wolfe. He fascinated her. And the older she became, the more the fascination had deepened.
Wolfe continued speaking, his voice harsh with frustration and anger. «You keep watching me with hungry eyes and wondering how it would be to couple with a savage, but when I —»
«Never!» Jessica interrupted wildly. «Never! I never thought of coupling with you. The thought horrifies me!»
Wolfe’s eyes narrowed until they were little more than splinters of black. «Then you will agree to an annulment.»
The words were so soft, Jessica didn’t understand them at first. When she did, she closed her eyes and sought to control the fear clawing at her.
«No,» Jessica said, her voice shaking. «You may be a savage, but you won’t take me by force.»
Deliberately, Wolfe’s hand settled on the mahogany nest just above her thighs.
«Won’t I?» he asked softly.
She stiffened as though he had taken a whip to her. When her eyes opened, they were so dilated with fear that there was barely any color to them. She tried to lift her hands in a silent plea, but her arms wouldn’t respond. She tried to speak, but all that came from her lips was a hoarse whisper that could have been Wolfe’s name.
With a barely controlled fury at himself, at her, and at the sham marriage, Wolfe surged to his feet beside the bed.
«Get out,» he said flatly.
Jessica looked up at Wolfe without comprehension.
«Get out of my bed, your ladyship. You disgust me as much as I horrify you. I couldn’t take you if I had to. You’re not a woman, you’re a spoiled, cruel child.»
Jessica moved too slowly to suit Wolfe. He bent over and hauled her to her feet.
«Agree to an annulment,» he demanded in a low voice. «Damn you, let me go!»
She swallowed dryly and shook her head.
Wolfe looked at Jessica for a long moment before he spoke in a soft, cold voice that was more punishing than a blow.
«You will rue the day you forced me into marriage. There are worse things than being caressed by a savage. You shall learn each one of them.»
7
With an apprehension Jessica didn’t reveal, she watched from the corner of her eye as Wolfe took a sip of the coffee she had prepared. When he did little more than grimace at the taste, she let out a soundless sigh of relief and passed him a dish of stewed fruit and a platter of ham and biscuits.
Covertly, Jessica watched while Wolfe forked ham onto his plate, ignored the biscuits, and spooned stewed fruit into his bowl. She hoped he would be less fierce after he had eaten. Perhaps then he would listen to her explanations. Perhaps then he would look at her with less contempt.
Silently, Wolfe ate, sensing Jessica’s watchfulness. He said nothing to her. Nor did he look at her. It was safer that way. The rage in him was still very close to the surface. Awakening in a state of arousal that had increased at the mere sight of Jessica had done nothing to sweeten Wolfe’s temper.
«More ham?» she asked in a soft voice.
«No, thank you.»
Jessica took little comfort in Wolfe’s politeness, for she knew it was as automatic to him as breathing and meant far less. In England his manners were as impeccable as a duke’s. More so, for Wolfe had no tradition of wealth and power to mitigate any social gaffe he might make. When among the English, he never forgot for one
