‘You have not loved me.’
She started.
‘And so I have kept my distance as well. For there is nothing more pathetic than a man so lost in love that his wife leads him like an ape on a string for the amusement of the ton. But now, after you have left me, you expect me to show you the depths of my feelings and risk ridicule or indifference?’
It was as if he was throwing her own thoughts back at her, and she found she had no way to answer for them. There must be something she could say that would make it all right between them, but for the life of her she could not think of the words.
When he realised that a response would not be forthcoming, he sighed. ‘Very well, then.’
She feared that she had lost him with her hesitation.
And then he kissed her.
The strength of her reaction came as a shock, and she wondered how she had ever become convinced that he was taking her for granted with the casual affection he displayed. He seemed to put no effort into arousing her. But he had managed it all the same. Where Nicholas Tremaine’s kisses had been skilled enough, but not particularly passionate, Harry’s lacked grace in their eagerness to bring her pleasure. In the months they had spent apart he had forgotten none of what she enjoyed, and now he was using all of his accumulated knowledge against her, until she caught fire in his arms.
He was kissing her with every last ounce of desire, his tongue sliding past her teeth and his lips devouring hers. And it no longer mattered what he had said, or not said, whether he loved her, hated her, or cared neither way. She could not help it that a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips, and then a somewhat louder moan of disappointment when he pulled away from her.
His voice was low and husky when he spoke. ‘Do you still doubt the state of my heart after all we have been to each other?’
He had brought her close to climax with the force of his kiss. So she gathered her breath and whispered, ‘The fact that you are a skilled lover does little to tell me your true feelings.’
He allowed himself a satisfied grin. ‘So I am a skilled lover, am I?’
She was near to panting with eagerness as she said, ‘I am sure there are many as talented as you, who care only for the pleasure to be gained from the act of love and not the woman they share it with.’
‘Really?’
‘Nicholas, for instance-’
And his lips came down upon hers again, stopping her in mid-sentence. This kiss was rougher, and more demanding, and his hands held her tight to his body as he rubbed his hips against hers. He was hard and ready for her. When he felt her growing soft and weak in response, near ready to give in, he pulled away from her again.
‘There will be no more talk of Tremaine, Elise. For I do not care what he thinks when alone with a woman. I can speak only for myself when I say that it is much more pleasurable when one has the love of one’s partner. And if, after tonight, I have not gained yours, then there will be no point in our continuing. If you do not love me with your whole heart, then I do not want you back.’
‘You want my love?’ she asked softly.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her. ‘As I have wanted it from the first day we met. I still remember the first time I saw you, standing in a doorway at some party or other. I cannot remember anything else about that night but you. You wore blue satin, and it matched the colour of your eyes. I had to force my way through a crowd of suitors to gain your hand for a dance.’
‘That was a long time ago,’ she murmured, trying to ignore the feeling of his lips on her throat so that she could hear his words over the singing in her blood.
‘Barely an instant. You are no less beautiful. You were so bright-glowing like a diamond.’
She tried to remember the last time he had spoken to her thus, with anything more than polite approval. ‘I did not know you had noticed my appearance.’
He raised his head to look into her eyes. ‘Every hour of every day. Just to look at you was a pleasure, and still is. But you belonged to someone else, and I thought there was no hope. Can you blame me, then, for using Tremaine’s downfall to my advantage?’
She pulled away and looked at him in surprise. ‘And how did you do so? For we were parted before you offered.’
For a moment the old Harry was back, hesitant, guarded, evasive. ‘The anonymous note you received? Telling of his perfidy? It was from me.’
The shock of it shook her to her very core. ‘You lied to me?’
‘It was the truth. The girl involved was Rosalind. As much her fault as his. But he was not blameless, for it was his flirting that led her to disaster.’
‘Rosalind?’ And suddenly the pieces of Elise’s life began to fall together. The strange behaviour of her sister-in- law, and the even stranger behaviour of Tremaine.
‘I should have called the bastard out instead of keeping what he did a secret. But Morley wished the thing covered up, and rushed her back out of town. And then I saw my opportunity to hurt him, and to have you as well. I sent the note, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.’ He squared his jaw in defiance. ‘If you believe I won you through unfair means, then so be it. I would have done anything to part the two of you. That the man was too decent to dishonour my sister further and tell you the truth came as a great relief to me. For I realised too late that I had jeopardised her reputation further by hinting at the facts. But he was not honourable enough to marry her, and he deserved some punishment for it-not the reward of your love as well.’
‘You deliberately ruined my engagement?’ He had changed her life to suit his own desires, tricked her into his bed and pleasured her until she was helpless to resist. The thought should have enraged her. But the rush of emotion she felt was closer to lust than anger.
‘I was mad with wanting you.’ And then he added, as if it should mitigate what he had done, ‘You would not have suited. Tremaine is too shallow, and would not give you the safety and security of home that you desire. You would have discovered it yourself eventually, to your own regret, if I had not intervened.’ He frowned. ‘But if I had known that I would never be free of the man, and that you would still be pining for him five years later, perhaps I would not have bothered.’
‘I have not been pining for him,’ she snapped. ‘I have made every effort to be a good wife to you, just as you deserved.’
He snorted. ‘I got what I deserved, all right. A woman beautiful, passionate, and in mourning for the man she had given up. But willing to do her duty to the husband she never wanted. I am not sorry for what I did to get you. I would do it again to have even a day with you in my arms, though your heart was divided. But, believe me, I paid the price.’ He looked at her again, his eyes strange and sad. ‘For I will always wonder what it would have been like had you loved me first.’
As he spoke, it sounded as though something was over. Which was strange, because perhaps nothing had ended at all.
‘I cannot tell you what might have been,’ she said. ‘I only know that my future does not lie with Tremaine, no matter the past.’
Harry looked at her with a slow, hot smile that made her insides melt.
‘And what do you mean to do tomorrow?’ He pulled her a little closer, and her body shocked her with remembrance.
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes, tomorrow. If you mean to leave both me and Tremaine, and find another lover, it will have to wait for morning. I have plans for you tonight.’
‘Harry, it is barely noon.’ Her breath came out in a little squeak. It surprised her, for it sounded almost as if she was frightened by her mild milquetoast of a husband.
‘I am well aware of the fact. For now, it is you and me and the library fire, my love. And, by God, if you go out through that door tomorrow morning, I will see to it that you remember what you have left.’ Then he pushed her back to the door and kissed her so hard that she thought her lips must bruise.
‘Harry,’ she gasped, when he allowed her a moment to breathe.
