He let out a long, frustrated breath, 'Respect doesn't mean that I am willing to put you in danger.'
'I find it difficult to believe that Lady Danbury's nemesis is a dangerous individual. It's not as if she's being blackmailed for state secrets or the like.'
'How can you be sure of that?'
She gaped at him. 'She is?'
'No, of course not,' he snapped. 'But you hardly know that, do you?'
'Of course I do! I've worked for her for over five years. Do you really think Lady Danbury could be carrying on in a suspicious manner without my noticing it? Good gracious, just look how I reacted when she started napping.'
He glared at her, his dark eyes brooking no argument. 'You are not joining the blackmail investigation, and that is final.'
She crossed her arms in return and said nothing.
'Elizabeth?'
A more cautious woman might have heeded the hard warning in his voice, but Elizabeth wasn't feeling terribly prudent at that moment. 'You cannot stop me from trying to help Lady Danbury. She has been as a mother to me, and-' She choked on her words as he backed her up against a table, his hands closing around her upper arms with stunning intensity.
'I will bind you, I will gag you. I'll tie you to a damn tree if that's what it takes to keep your meddling nose where it belongs.'
Elizabeth gulped. She'd never seen a man so furious. His eyes were flashing, his hand was shaking, and his neck was held so tensely that it seemed the tiniest tap could snap his head right off.
'Well, now,' she squeaked, trying to pry his fingers loose. He didn't seem to have any concept of how tightly he was holding her-or even that he was holding her at all. 'I didn't say I would meddle exactly, just aid you in certain, completely safe endeavors, and-''
'Promise me, Elizabeth.' His voice was low and intent, and it was nearly impossible not to melt at the ferocity of feeling in those three little words.
'I-ah-' Oh, where was Mrs. Seeton when she needed her? Elizabeth had tried cajoling him out of his temper- she was fairly certain that was included in Edict Number Twenty-six-but it hadn't had the least effect. James was still furious, his hands were still closed around her arms like twin vises, and God help her, but Elizabeth couldn't seem to take her eyes off his mouth.
'Promise me, Elizabeth,' he repeated, and all she could do was watch his lips as he formed the words.
His hands tightened around her arms, and that, combined with some heavenly force, jolted her out of a trance, and she jerked her eyes up to meet his. 'I won't do anything without consulting you first,' she whispered.
'That's not good enough.'
'It's going to have to be.' She winced. 'James, you're hurting me.'
He looked down at his hands as if they were foreign objects, then abruptly released her. 'I'm sorry,' he said distractedly. 'I didn't realize.'
She took a step backward, rubbing her arms. 'It's all right.'
James stared at her for a long moment before swearing under his breath and turning away. He had been tense, and he had been frustrated, but he had never anticipated the violent flood of emotion she had unleashed. The merest hint of Elizabeth in danger, and he turned into a blithering idiot.
The irony was exquisite. Just last year he had laughed at his best friend when he'd been in a similar situation. Blake Ravenscroft had come completely unhinged when his future wife had attempted to take part in a War Office operation. James had found the entire situation vastly amusing. It had been clear to him that Caroline wouldn't be facing any real danger, and he'd thought Blake a besotted ass for raising such a fuss.
James could look at the present situation with enough objectivity to know that Elizabeth was facing even less danger here at Danbury House. And yet his blood coursed with fear and fury at the very mention of her involvement in the blackmail affair.
He had a feeling this was not a good sign.
This had to be some sort of sick obsession. He'd done nothing but think about Elizabeth Hotchkiss since he'd arrived at Danbury House earlier in the week. First he'd had to investigate her as a possible blackmailer, then he'd found himself thrust in the unlikely position of courtship tutor.
Actually, he'd thrust himself in that role, but he chose not to dwell on that point.
The fact was, it was only natural that he'd fear for her safety. He'd been cast as her protector of sorts, and she was such a tiny little thing; any man would feel protective.
And as for this need-the one that was raking his gut and firing his pulse-well, he was a man, after all, and she was a woman, and she was here, and she was really quite beautiful, in his opinion at least, and when she smiled it did strange things to his-
'Damn it all,' he muttered, 'I'm going to have to kiss you.'
Chapter 13
Elizabeth had time to catch one short breath before his arms closed around her. His mouth met hers with a stunning mix of power and tenderness, and she melted-positively melted-into his embrace.
In fact, her last rational thought was that the word 'melted' seemed to be popping up in her mind with increasing regularity. Something about this man did that to her. One of those heavy-lidded stares-the kind that hinted of things dark and dangerous, things she knew nothing about-and she was lost.
His tongue darted between her lips, and she felt her mouth opening under his. He explored her fully, caressed her deeply, made her breath his own.
'Elizabeth,' he rasped. 'Tell me you need this. Tell me.'
But she was beyond words. Her heart was racing, her knees shaking, and some dim part of her knew that if she said the words, there could be no turning back. So she took the coward's way out, and arched her neck for another kiss, silently inviting him to continue his sensual exploration.
His mouth moved to the line of her jaw, then teased her ear, then moved to the tender skin of her neck, and all the while his hands were moving. One slid down to the curve of her buttocks, cupping it with exquisite tenderness as he gently pressed her hips against his arousal. And the other was moving up, over her rib cage, toward…
Elizabeth stopped breathing. Every nerve in her body was quivering with anticipation, aching with a clawing need she had never even imagined existed.
When his hand closed over her breast, it didn't matter that there were two layers of fabric between her skin and his. She felt burned, branded, and she knew that no matter what happened, part of her soul would belong to this man forever.
James was murmuring things, words of love and need, but she comprehended nothing other than the stark desire in his voice. And then she felt herself slowly falling. His hand at her back supported her, but she was descending to the soft carpet of the library floor.
He moaned something-it sounded like her name- and it was more of a plea than anything else. And then she was on her back, and he was covering her. The weight of him was thrilling, his heat breathtaking. But then he arched his hips forward and she felt the true extent of his desire for her, and her sensual trance was broken.
'James, no,' she whispered. 'I can't.' If she didn't stop this now, it wouldn't stop. She didn't know how she knew this, but it was as true as her name.
His lips stilled, but his breathing was ragged, and he didn't move off of her.
'James, I can't. I wish-' She caught herself at the last second. God above, had she nearly told him that she wished she could? Elizabeth colored with shame. What sort of woman was she? This man was not her husband and he never would be.
'Just one moment,' he said hoarsely. 'I need a moment.'
They both waited while his breathing steadied. After a few seconds, he lifted himself to his feet and, always the gentleman (even under the most trying of circumstances), held out his hand.
'I'm sorry,' she said, allowing him to help her up, 'but if I'm to marry-my husband will expect-'
