Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 4

He hated telling her to leave, but he knew how it would be between them. She would remain icy, he would remain blind, and neither of them would ever figure out what to do with one another outside the bedroom. Such a concern might not have bothered him before, a part of him had always expected a marriage in name only, but since the happy marriages of his two close friends, he'd discovered he longed for more than sensual satisfaction with his wife, should he ever take one.

At first he'd brushed it off as sentimentality, but being surrounded by couples in love had altered his perceptions, and as he reviewed his childhood with more frequency since the accident, he remembered the easy relationship of his parents. He realized that a large part of him had always yearned for something similar. He wanted what his friends and parents had: love and friendship. He used to laugh about such things, as though they were the naïve aspirations of poets, but now he needed them.

"I am aware that you would be entitled to your rights as a husband. I would not deny you." It was stiffly and bravely delivered, and she still did not back away from him or demand he stop touching her.

Cedric's lips twitched. He had enough memory of her to know what expression accompanied that tone of voice. Her chin would be raised, her high cheekbones rosy with embarrassment and her lovely eyes flashing with unspoken indignation. His hand dropped from her hip, but he did not hear her leave. She remained close, the sound of her breath teasing his ears.

"You may agree to lie limp beneath me, but I do not want that in a wife. I desire a willing bedmate, something you made clear to me last spring that you would never be."

"People change," she answered.

"Perhaps, but a woman's nature often does not. You were always fashioned of ice, Miss Chessley, and I have no intention of worsening my already crumbling life by freezing to death in your bed. Simply evading fortune hunters is not enough for you to seek me out. Do you think me stupid as well as blind?"

He felt the air shift before the slap hit him full across his face. The attack sparked a fire of arousal in him rather than anger. Maybe he could melt her after all.

"How dare you speak like that!" Anne hissed.

"I apologize if the truth hurts, but I am weary of the pretense of civilities. Now, please leave or else I may spout further truths that may be upsetting to you."

"You ruthless cad!" Anne moved to strike him again, but he had the advantage of anticipating her reaction.

By luck alone, he caught her wrist and jerked her body against him. His other hand settled upon her shoulder and moved along to cup the nape of her neck. He held her still in his strong grip and moved gently toward her face. He was able to find her cheek and kiss a soft path to her lips. Once he found it, he abandoned all pretense of tenderness and ravaged her mouth.

She trembled in his embrace, her own tongue retreating from his at first. But he continued his campaign, rubbing his fingers on her neck in a soothing fashion until she relaxed against him. The swell of triumph he felt when her tongue slipped between his lips was glorious. And then Cedric withdrew, stepping back from her, his breath coming fast.

"If you can swear to respond like that to me in bed, then I will ask you to marry me." It was a challenge he didn't expect her to rise to, but he prayed she would. His desire for her, one he'd harbored for years, protecting the low banked fire, now sparked into a slowly building inferno. If only she could agree to open herself to him...

"I...can." Her husky, breathless response tugged at his baser side, his lower parts hardening with need. She continued to speak, unaware of the effect she was having on him. "What I mean to say is you kiss much better than I expected."

"You swear then? To respond in such a way each time I come to you?" Cedric pressed.

"I swear," Anne promised, but Cedric heard the hesitancy in her voice.

He gentled his hold on her and tried to soften his voice. "I will not ever force you, if that is your concern. But I will warn you my appetite for pleasure is voracious." He flashed her a smile he'd broken many hearts with and only wished he could see her reaction to it.

"I would rather handle your appetites, my lord, than suffer one more night at a ball having to dance with those fools who see me as no more than a pile of gold in a ball gown," Anne declared.

"I didn't think you were the sort to fear scandal, my lord." Her challenging tone had him biting back another laugh. How well the lady knew him! They really would suit after all, he had faith now.

"Of course not. I thrive on it. I was unaware that you shared my...lust for attention." He wished he could have seen her face. Did she blush at his suggestive words?

"I may not lust for it, as you put it, but I don't fear it." Her tone suggested truth. He'd have heard her uneven breaths or a tremor in her voice had she been lying.

"You would prefer then that I procure a special license?"

"Yes, if it is not too much trouble," Anne said.

"Very well. I will write to you tomorrow."

"Thank you, my lord." Anne's hands tightened in his as she leaned forward and brushed her lips on his cheek in a ghost of a kiss. Passion fought with tenderness inside him at the unexpected contact. She remained close by. "Would you like me to guide you back to the house?"

It was he who hesitated this time. Dare he agree and admit his fear of stumbling? Or would refusing upset her? Damnation, he wished he understood women better. He'd lived with his sisters for years and was intelligent enough to admit he knew next to nothing about the feminine species or their complex and often unfathomable views of humankind. Perhaps it was wiser to accept her offer than to upset her. "Yes. That would be good of you."

Cedric was surprised when she tucked her arm in his and they proceeded along the cobblestoned path in silence. But it was not a rigid silence like he expected. Something between them had changed. He only wished he knew what it meant. But he would soon find out. They were to wed, after all. How odd that he was torn between dread and fascination.