When she paused, he closed the distance between them, until they were almost touching. Arabella held herself rigid, caught between dread and anticipation. She couldn’t forget the way his muscular chest had felt pressed against her breasts, the strong arms that had crushed her to him, the firm, sensual lips that had taken hers with such fiery heat.
But he merely reached down to capture her hand and bring it to his bruised jaw. His fingers encircled her wrist loosely-and there he stopped.
“Have you ever really been kissed before now, Arabella?”
She blinked at the unexpected question. “Of course I have been kissed. I was betrothed, remember?”
“I’ll wager it was a tame sort of peck.”
“What does that matter?”
“It matters greatly, if you have nothing to judge by. Your expectations must be severely depressed.”
Arabella sucked in a breath; his fingertips had found the bare skin above her glove.
“It’s a pity, really.”
“What is a pity?” she said absently. She was staring at his lips now, disconcerted by their nearness.
“That you’re a virginal innocent, with no experience in passion or physical pleasure.”
Her cheeks flooded with color. “Of course I am virginal. I am a lady, despite our family scandal. We are not our mother’s daughters.” This time she couldn’t hide her bitterness.
His blue gaze softened. “If you knew the pleasures in store for you, you wouldn’t be so quick to swear off men. You have no notion what you are missing.”
“And I suppose you are offering to show me?”
“Actually, I am.”
“I don’t wish you to show me a thing, Lord Danvers. I only want you to kiss me and be done with it. Would you please just get it over?”
“Very well.”
He bent his head slowly. Arabella froze, bracing herself for the onslaught. She refused to run this time like a coward. It was supposed to be a simple kiss after all…
The trouble was, there was nothing simple about his kiss whatsoever. The caress was a mere brush of lips, true, but his mouth was warm and inviting, and the delicious pressure sent her senses reeling with blazing heat again, made her body shiver with desire. Just like before, when he had left her weak and breathless and helplessly aroused.
Magic, that’s what it was. He was working some sort of fiery spell over her.
She was inexplicably disappointed when he lifted his head after the briefest of moments. He was staring at her once more, Arabella saw, feeling dazed.
She raised her fingers to her burning lips as she stared back at him. A flame had kindled in the depths of his blue eyes…the same sort of flame that he had ignited deep inside her.
“So it wasn’t an aberration at all,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Arabella tried to gather her wits. “What was not an aberration?”
“Never mind.” Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as he stepped back. “Now, are you ready to return home?”
She shook herself from her daze. “Not yet. I concluded a class at the academy this afternoon and intended to call on Lady Freemantle to make my report. She likes to be kept abreast of every detail.”
“I will accompany you there.”
“That won’t be necessary. Her ladyship’s estate is just over the next hill.”
He glanced in the direction Arabella indicated. “Then I will send a groom to escort you home when you are through. I don’t like the thought of you riding about the countryside alone.”
Arabella’s expression turned ironic. “I have been doing so for years, Lord Danvers. This is not London. Ours is a completely tame neighborhood, with little wickedness or crime.”
“Still, you should have a groom with you. I’m surprised your former guardian was so neglectful.”
Arabella felt herself stiffening. “Paupers cannot afford grooms, my lord.”
“Your step-uncle could have afforded to supply a male servant for your protection.”
Her smile was humorless. “Our step-uncle did not consider us worth the expense.”
Lord Danvers contemplated her expression. “Stings your pride to be that dependent, does it?”
“Of course it stings.”
“I can imagine.”
That made Arabella’s lips quirk with true amusement. “I sincerely doubt it. Very likely you have never been dependent on anyone or anything in your life.”
He inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of her supposition. “Not since I was out of short coats at least. But in the future, when you are not in my company, I would be obliged if you would take one of my grooms with you.”
She cocked her head. “Why should I wish to oblige you?”
“Because I care for your welfare, sweeting.”
His easy answer gave her pause. It was the first time in years that any man had cared for her welfare. Their step-uncle certainly had not.
“I will consider it,” she conceded.
He grinned at her. “Not willing to surrender an inch, are you?”
“No, my lord,” Arabella said sweetly.
“My name is Marcus. If I’m to be your suitor, you should call me by my given name.” He raised his hand to her mouth and brushed his thumb lightly over her lower lip. “I will expect you home in time to dine with me this evening. You promised me four hours of your company each day, remember?”
“I remember,” she managed to reply, her voice uneven.
Returning to his horse, he gathered the reins and mounted, then sat looking down at her. “Oh, and Arabella, the next time you run from me, you had best choose a swifter horse, for I won’t let you off so easily when I catch you.”
With that he wheeled his horse and rode away, leaving her to gape after him, her fingers held to her tingling lips.
Chapter Four
I must be mad also, since I just agreed to the earl’s wager.
– Arabella to Fanny
Marcus shook his head in disbelief as he rode toward Danvers Hall. He hadn’t counted on making an impulsive proposal of marriage to his beautiful ward. Ironic that he would behave so rashly after maneuvering for years to elude the snares set for him by scores of mercenary females. But he’d acted on sheer instinct.
If he had to marry, he wanted a wife like Arabella, and he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass to stake his claim to her.
Certainly she fit his requisites for his countess, with breeding and beauty and intelligence to spare. Of more vital importance, she was spirited and fascinating enough to hold his interest long beyond any initial courtship.
Indeed, he couldn’t recall ever finding any woman so desirable as Arabella. She would make a delightful lover in their marriage bed, Marcus reflected. Kissing her today had proved irrevocably that the spark of fire between them was no figment of his imagination.
Marcus felt his loins harden at the remembrance of their first embrace. And although their last kiss had been a mere brush of lips, it had still thoroughly aroused him.
He had aroused Arabella just as intensely, he knew. Just not enough to convince her to consider his suit.
Recalling her determined rejection of his proposal, Marcus grinned. Never had he dreamed he would be in this position-having to persuade a lady that she wanted him for her husband. He’d never had to actively pursue any female. Until now, women, like everything else in life, had come easily to him. When he’d played the game of love with his mistresses, it was purely because he enjoyed the challenge of it.
Marcus laughed softly to himself. Arabella would provide him ample challenge, certainly. But her adamant rebuff had compelled him to quickly invent an alternate strategy to woo her, the result being his wager with her.
He had every faith the wager would be a cure for his recent restlessness. He seemed to be suffering from more than simple boredom, Marcus admitted. He filled his days with cards and hunts and boxing mills and races, but his clubs and sporting pursuits couldn’t appease the odd dissatisfaction he’d felt with his life of late. Not even the extensive responsibilities of managing his various estates could.