"And will you have other women in your bed when you are in London?" Caroline asked in a very mild tone. Her back was to her husband and he couldn't see her expression.
He was clearly amazed by her question. Since meeting Caroline, he hadn't considered touching any other woman and the thought now repulsed him. He recognized that he held another weapon to hurt her with, but didn't have the heart to use it. "No." He didn't offer any additional explanation but waited for Caroline to make a comment.
"Thank you." The simple return pushed him off center again.
"Why?" Bradford asked. "Why does it matter to you?"
Caroline slowly walked over to stand directly in front of her husband. He was leaning against the edge of the desk. "Because I love you, Jered Marcus Benton," she said, looking into his eyes, her gaze hiding nothing.
"You have a strange way of showing your love," he commented. He reached out and cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer. "I didn't force you from my bed, Caroline. You left of your own accord."
Caroline didn't reply to his remark. She just continued to look up at him until he couldn't withstand the temptation a second longer. His lips brushed hers, and when she didn't try to pull away, he kissed her again. And again.
Caroline's mouth opened under his tender assault and her hands slipped around his waist. She held nothing back, letting him feel her need, her love.
Bradford's tongue stroked the sweet warmth her mouth offered, kindling the embers of desire with each erotic touch. The kiss changed, became rough with insistence. The shawl fell to the floor when she was abruptly pulled against Bradford's hips.
She never wanted the kiss to end, and when Bradford tore his mouth from hers and began to tease and torment the side of her neck, Caroline sighed with a mixture of pleasure and building frustration.
"I'm going to have you tonight," Bradford said in a voice as soft as velvet. He kissed her again, a long, hot, drugging kiss meant to quell any thoughts of resistance, and then lifted her into his arms and carried her up to his bedroom.
"No arguments, wife?" Bradford asked after he had closed the door and turned back to her.
Caroline shook her head. Bradford kissed her again and then slowly, methodically stripped her. He removed his own clothes next, surprised when Caroline knelt before him and assisted him with his boots.
She was conceding to his wishes tonight, and Bradford found himself frowning over the abrupt change.
Caroline stood up and walked over to the bed. Bradford watched her, thinking that she was the most graceful of women, and the most innocently sensual. And then he was through thinking.
Twin candles burned on each side of the bed and Bradford didn't snuff them out, wishing to see Caroline's passion as well as feel it.
He jerked the covers back and settled himself on his side. He wanted to savor the moment, build the anticipation, but as soon as he took her into his arms and felt her softness against him, he couldn't hold back. He kissed her almost savagely, consumed by an intense hunger only she could satisfy.
He couldn't be gentle this night and Caroline, whose need matched her husband's, didn't want the teasing torment that always came before. Her nails scraped his shoulders while her hips pushed against his for fulfillment.
Bradford entered her with a full thrust. Caroline let out a soft cry and he immediately stopped, tensing against her. "God, Caroline, I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.
He started to pull away but Caroline arched against him, trapping him inside her with her nails digging into his hips. "Don't stop, Bradford, please," she begged.
Bradford cupped the sides of her face and watched the pleasure he gave his wife with each thrust. Her eyes had turned the color of deep blue and when he increased his pace, she moaned, a deep primitive sound that reached his soul, pulled him into the eye of the storm.
He surrendered to the splendor when he felt Caroline tense against him and knew that she had found her release. And then he collapsed on top of her, spent and satisfied.
Caroline listened to Bradford's harsh breathing, felt his heart beat against her own, and closed her eyes with a sigh of contentment.
And then she waited for him to tell her that he loved her. With each passing second, her contentment faded.
Bradford rolled to his side and took Caroline into his arms. "It seems that this is the only place where we don't argue," he whispered.
"Are the beds comfortable at Bradford Place?" she asked. Her casual question told him that nothing had changed.
He refused to let her rile him. "Some of it isn't furnished. God, but you're stubborn, Caroline. Only admit that you belong to me and you can stay here."
"I have never said that I didn't belong to you," Caroline replied, surprised by his interpretation. "You know exactly why we argue. And until you realize that I won't settle for-"
"You can take what you need from this house," Bradford interrupted. He wasn't about to back down, and his remark told Caroline just how unbending he was.
"Why do you send the guards with me?" she asked, changing the subject. "I know that you talked with Rachel," she added, trying to see his face.
Bradford held her against his chest, ignoring her struggle to move. "Rachel wasn't responsible," he announced. "She wasn't behind the attempts."
"Are you sure?" Caroline succeeded in pulling free of Bradford's arms. She sat up and frowned in confusion.
Bradford appreciated the pretty picture his wife presented. Her curly hair tumbled around her face, enhancing the slender column of her neck. The tops of her breasts peeked out from the covers she clutched to herself, enticing him.
"Bradford, I asked you if you were sure," Caroline stated again.
Bradford reluctantly pulled himself back to the conversation. "I'm sure."
Caroline sighed. "You know, I believe you have a very relaxed attitude about all this," she muttered. "If someone had tried to harm you, I would tear London apart looking for him. You act bored with the matter."
"I promised that I would handle the situation," Bradford stated. "You don't need to know more than that. It's my worry, not yours."
"No, Bradford, it's our worry."
Bradford sighed over that remark and then commented, "Rachel believes that you've succeeded in talking your father out of marrying her mother. She had grand plans of a financial arrangement and you threw a stick in her spokes."
"Why would she think such a ridiculous thing?" Caroline asked, showing her amazement.
Bradford thought a long minute and then made the decision to tell her. "Because your father told her so."
"But why would he do that?"
"Caroline, your father was being pressured and he used you as his excuse. It was too difficult to tell Rachel's mother the truth, that he didn't want to marry her. He took the easy way out, by using you as the scapegoat."
Caroline shook her head, denying it was true. "That would be a cowardly thing to do," she whispered.
"In most cases," Bradford agreed. He reached out and pulled Caroline back into his arms. "But your father is different. He lived alone, in his own little world, for such a long time-"
"Fourteen years," Caroline interjected.
"Yes, well, he isn't sophisticated enough to deal with the likes of the Tillman woman. Her claws were out to trap him and he used the only route of escape he could think of."
"He was afraid to be honest with her?" Caroline asked. "Is that what you're suggesting?"
Bradford sighed again. "He's an old man, Caroline, and set in his ways. Think of him as bewildered, not afraid."