The Pleasure Seekers Page 5

  “Why? You don’t like me.”

  “You’re right.” He pulled her flush against his hard, unyielding chest. “And now you’ve forced me to prove it.” His mouth came down on hers, annihilating any thought but of what he was doing to her.

  His kiss was not soft or gentle or careful of her inexperience, but harsh and punishing and electric, forcing her to keep up or get swept away. Her hands moved restlessly at her sides, desperately searching for something to touch that wasn’t him. But he was everywhere.

  She couldn’t begin to fathom what moved this man, or what moved her to allow him such liberties—his tongue teasing hers, his big hands running slowly up and down her sides before coming to rest on the outer swell of her breasts, his thumbs sliding underneath them as his thigh insinuated itself between her legs.

  Bliss felt as though she were on fire. The things he could do with his mouth, the exquisite pressure he created as his lips slanted over hers, wrung soft moans from deep in her throat. She felt strange, like a foreigner in her own body.

  It wasn’t in her to deny her passions. She had kissed men before, quite a few, in fact. But none of those kisses had compared to this one. The man was an arrogant, infuriating devil, but he had the most deliciously sinful mouth.

  It wasn’t until Bliss felt the cool breeze against her nipples that she realized he had pushed down the scant fabric covering her breasts. A sharp jolt of desire sizzled straight to the heart of her as his thumbs flicked across the hardened points. Reality blazed across her skin like wildfire.

  She tore her mouth from his and pushed at his chest. “Don’t!”

  Through passion-glazed eyes, he stared down at her, a flicker of ice glinting in the depths of his gaze. “Please tell me you’re not going to act the outraged maiden. It’s a wearisome ploy.”

  “No, my lord; it’s much simpler than that. I don’t want you.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “You’re in heat, my lady. Just like your mare. I’d be happy to solve the problem for you, but not if you persist in playing games.” His thumbs flicked her nipples again, and pleasure spiraled straight to her toes. He was toying with her, assuring a victory over her, if not in one form than in another.

  “I may be in heat,” she replied as calmly as her thudding heart would allow, yanking up her bodice, “but you are not the stud for the job.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “I guess you’ll never know, will you?” He took a step back, giving her a parody of a bow. “Perhaps it’s best if you heed your own words and not look so eager to rut.” He extracted a cheroot from his pocket and lit it, regarding her through a thin veil of smoke as he added, “You never know who might oblige.”

  His coarse words sank bone deep. “Stay away from me. Do you hear? Don’t come near me again, whoever you are.”

  “Ah, that’s right. You don’t know who I am, do you? Well, let me remedy that.” He took hold of her hand, his grip unrelenting as he lifted it to his lips. “Caine Ballinger, my lady, late removed Earl of Hartland, at your service.”

  Caine Ballinger. The man who intrigued and intimidated her, who was both vile and tantalizing, was Olivia Hamilton’s lover. She should have known—yet knowing didn’t make the hurt she felt any less painful.

  Bliss shoved at his chest. With a dark laugh, he released her, and she turned and fled.

  Five

  I stood

  Among them, but not of them; in a shroud

  Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.

  Lord Byron

  For the second time that day, Caine watched her go, his body in the throes of a lust so strong he very nearly chased her down like some puling adolescent flushed and panting with his first erection. But he had never run after any woman, and he’d be damned if he would start today.

  Christ, of all the females in the world, why did it have to be the bloody Duke of Exmoor’s daughter that he wanted to bed? Whose soft blue eyes could annihilate a man, butcher him down to that small place inside that he held remote from everyone, while still managing to make him hot as hellfire?

  It was beyond comprehension how so black-hearted a man could have created such a vibrant, exotic daughter. And bloody damned smart, besides. No matter what angle he came at her, she deflected him. Both her looks and her intelligence had thrown him.

  His name had garnered a very definite reaction. Did she know what her father had done to his? How the man’s greed had cost Henry Ballinger his life? Even if she didn’t know, it wouldn’t make a difference. She hated him one way or the other, and that was fine with him. The feeling was mutual.

  Caine exited the stables and closed the doors. Glancing toward the house, he saw the outline of people dancing in his ballroom, being served by his servants, many of them sleeping under his roof.

  He would avoid them all for the next week, even if it meant spending his nights out in the stable. His horse was the only thing he cared about, anyway. Khan was all he had left of his former life—all he had left of his father, who had given him the black colt three years ago.

  Caine dragged a hand through his hair and headed for the back entrance of the house. He would take the servant’s stairs up to his bedroom, which was at the farthest reaches of the west wing, away from the buffoons and their ladies who might stumble into any room they came upon.

  Northcote was unique in that it contained an elaborate system of hidden passageways, having been erected by a Saxon ancestor to prevent the Danes from sailing up the river to Exeter. Once a person knew the layout of the tunnels, he could go just about anywhere on the estate undetected.

  Those dark corridors were Caine’s only salvation during Olivia’s interminable gatherings. She hated when he disappeared; she liked showing off her new plaything.

  He used to enjoy being intimate with women, reveled in the power he held over them when they were in sexual thrall, needing what he could give them. But any pleasure he had once found in the act had left him the moment he had agreed to Olivia’s offer. He’d never imagined he would know what it felt like to be an object, a female’s whim, but he knew now and he hated the very sight of himself.

  His bedroom was dark as a tomb as he entered it. Once upon a time, there would have been a maid to light his lamps and turn down his sheets, a valet to help him dress and undress.

  Olivia didn’t believe such things were necessary. If he needed dressing and undressing, he could come to her. He had never done so, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t come to him.

  Caine struck a match and lit the oil lamp on his bureau, the faint, burnished glow reflecting dully off the dark furniture and heavy drapes. His bedroom was vastly different from those he had occupied in his youth, with satin sheets and decadent splendor to heighten an experience that rarely included sleep. Now he had solitude and a view of the stark cliffs and churning waters, which better suited his mood.

  He peeled off his shirt, remembering the way Bliss had stared at his chest, creating the first genuine stirring of desire that he had experienced in years.

  God, how he’d wanted her to touch him. There was something about her that had temporarily made him forget who she was. For the first time in a long while, he had been consumed with something other than bitterness and rage.

  “Where have you been, darling?”

  Caine’s body tensed as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and found Olivia sitting in a wing chair across the room, one leg draped over the arm, only a diaphanous wisp of lingerie veiling her body. Dear God, not tonight. Not when another woman occupied his thoughts and fired his body.

  “What are you doing here?” he bit out, sorry he had removed his shirt as her gaze trailed down his back and lingered on his ass.

  “Waiting for you, of course.”

  “I told you not to come to my room.”

  “Yes, I know, it’s your sanctuary from the world. Really, Caine, this obsession you have with protecting what’s yours grows tiresome. It’s only a room, for heaven’s sake.”

  “W
hat do you want?”

  “For you to stop skulking about. Your absence this evening was sorely felt. My guests expect to see you. How do you think I feel when they ask for you and I don’t know where you are?”

  “I’m not your bloody toy,” he growled, swiping his shirt from the floor.

  “Leave it off,” she insisted in a purr. “And please turn around.”

  Gritting his teeth, Caine faced her, his hand fisting around his shirt as her gaze stripped him.

  “You are glorious, my lord. You have a body that was made to give a woman pleasure. How lovely that you’re mine—and as long as I pay your way, darling, you do belong to me. I wonder if you’re sufficiently appreciative of our arrangement.”

  “Don’t push me, Olivia. It’s not a wise move.”

  “Come here, Caine.” She beckoned him with a finger. “And leave the shirt where it was.”

  He wanted her to get out and leave him the hell alone, and there was only one way to accomplish that now, short of murder.

  Fury a heavy knot in his stomach, Caine threw the shirt to the floor and crossed the room, coming to a stop several feet from her chair.

  “Don’t glower so, my love.” She peered up at him through her lashes, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips. “You know what I want.”

  “Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “Sleep is a waste of time when I have you.” Her sultry gaze ran over him, stopping at his groin and finding no evidence of arousal, which put a moue of displeasure on her face. “You are so delicious to look at when you’re angry, and so very wicked with me in bed.”

  “So you purposely prod me, is that it?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Sometimes, yes. Watching you brood is no fun.” She leaned forward and ran her finger over the front of his trousers. “I think you’ve been a bad boy tonight.” She cocked her head, giving him a sideways glance. “Were you?”

  Caine’s jaw tightened. “You’ve been spying on me again, haven’t you?”

  “I have to keep an eye on my property,” she said, her hand slipping beneath his waistband to take hold of him. “Or else someone might steal you. And this,” she purred low in her throat, “is worth its weight in gold. I can’t have anything happen to it now, can I?”

  “This,” he growled, gripping her wrist, “comes with me if I leave, and the next time you refer to me as property will be the last.”

  A childish pout puckered her lips. “Don’t be angry with me.”

  “Stop bloody spying on me. I’m sick of it.”

  “I don’t actually do the spying; that would be beneath me. Chadwick does it.”

  Chadwick. Her personal secretary, who Caine was sure was giving Olivia more than administrative services on the side. Had the man seen the kiss Caine had given Bliss? Had the maggot-ridden leper watched him ease down her bodice without her being the wiser? Watched him toy with her until he hadn’t known which one of them was actually being seduced?

  “I’d advise you to keep the bastard well away from me, or next time I’ll strangle the little prick.”

  “He said he saw you with Exmoor’s whore of a daughter. I thought I told you to stay away from her.”

  “And I told you that I’ll do whatever I damn well please outside the bedroom.”

  She took hold of his waistband, trying to pull him down to his knees. Acid seared the back of his throat as he lowered himself to the floor.

  “As long as you’re not fucking her,” she said fiercely.

  “Good Christ,” Caine choked out, derision lacing his tone. “How many erections do you think I can manage? You’re constantly on me, hard or not. My cock doesn’t even want to rise anymore. But of course, I must be giving it to any woman with breasts and a pulse. The milkmaid, the vicar’s daughter. The vicar’s wife. Your niece. Your sister. Half the female population of Northern England. Anyone I’ve missed?”

  “Chadwick said you kissed her. Did you?”

  “Yes.” Chadwick was a dead man. “So what?”

  “I thought you hated her.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why?”

  “To punish her.” But he had only tormented himself, his ardor slugging him like a prizefighter’s jab to the solar plexus.

  Olivia sat back in the chair, eyeing him. “I see this is going to be a problem.”

  “I told you to get rid of her.”

  “She’s a guest. Besides, my niece seems to have developed a tendre for the lady’s cousin. Court Wyndham is quite a catch, and I do not want to discourage the match.” A look that Caine had seen far too many times came into her eyes. She traced his jaw with her finger and skimmed it down his neck. “Do you still desire me, Caine?”

  “What do you want, Olivia? Blood?”

  She studied him for a moment. “I can tell you’re getting bored, and I want to make things enjoyable again.”

  That was a feat she would never accomplish. “I won’t perform any of your perversions, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Actually, I was thinking about Lady Bliss. I spoke to her tonight.”

  Caine stiffened. Olivia had a special fondness for telling other women details about his sexual performance, and consequently, they did whatever they could to entice him into bed.

  Whether it was purely curiosity about his skill that drove them to proposition him, or if they were testing his willpower, or if they simply wanted what Olivia had, he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been sure of any woman’s intentions toward him in a long time.

  “Do I need to worry about her trying to get me into bed, like those vultures you call friends?” he asked.

  Olivia stared at him, first blankly and then with fury, as if she had never anticipated this possibility. “My friends have tried to seduce you?”

  “What did you expect?”

  She took hold of his waistband again and tugged him forward, between her thighs. “What did you do when they asked?”

  “What do you think I did?”

  “Damn you, Caine. Tell me!”

  “Nothing, for the love of Christ!”

  “Good. Because I don’t like sharing.” She dropped her shoulders and the silky material of her robe slid down her arms, exposing her breasts, her nipples rouged as usual, which made his stomach turn. “Do you think Lady Bliss is prettier than I am?”

  Bliss was stunning; one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her petite size made him feel like a giant. He had actually felt a moment of nervousness when he touched her, thinking how fragile she was, how easily he could crush her.

  When she had forced him to stop, he had felt unwanted for the first time in his life, thinking she had seen straight through to the hole where his heart had once been, and found him lacking.

  “Yes,” he told Olivia bluntly.

  “Why are you so cruel?” she asked in a stricken voice.

  “Don’t ask questions if you don’t want the answers.”

  A speculative gleam suddenly came into her eyes. “I have a wager for you.”

  Caine tensed, his guard going up. “What kind of wager?”

  “We need a bit of excitement, so I’ve come up with something that I think will make us both happy.” A calculated look glinted in her eyes as she added, “I want you to seduce Lady Bliss.”

  “What?”

  “It will be the perfect revenge for your father’s death.”

  Caine couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Have you already forgotten your anger at my being with her tonight?”

  “That was before I gave you my blessing.”

  Caine’s hands fisted at his sides. “So now it’s all right if I bed her?”

  “Not exactly. I expect you to save your passion for me—unless she is a virgin. Your breaching that sanctimonious maidenhead would destroy her dear papa. His precious child, defiled by a notorious rake. What a coup de grâce!”

  Revenge. The word reverberated through Caine’s head. For a long time, he’d thought that if he could avenge his father’s
death he would be free of this obsession that drove him. Free to move on and find some new meaning in his life.

  And here was an opportunity to strike at Exmoor’s very heart: a woman’s reputation for his father’s life. Not an equal trade-off by any means, but a powerful blow nonetheless.

  “I can see you’re wrestling with your demons,” she said, brushing aside the filmy silk covering her mound and placing his hand there, wriggling impatiently until he slipped a finger between her folds. “So I will give you additional incentive.” She guided his finger over her swollen flesh, moaning low, as she finished. “This house.”

  Every muscle in Caine’s body stilled. “What are you saying?”

  “Keep going.” Once his finger resumed moving, she continued, “If you seduce Lady Bliss and get her to fall in love with you, then I will give you back Northcote.”

  His home, returned to him. The dream that had consumed him for two long years. He could almost taste the victory. But he couldn’t allow himself to be drawn in, to feel the surging hunger for something just out of reach. He knew Olivia too well. She had sprung her trap with a purpose in mind.

  “You get something in return,” he countered. “What is it?”

  “Now, that was the hard part of this brilliant plan. What should be my reward, should you—the master of seduction—fail? Alfred, as you know, left me well provided for. I really don’t need this house, but it came with such a delicious perk, how could I resist?” She hooked her left leg over the other chair arm and moved his hand down.

  “Spit it out. What the hell do you want?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  “Leave off with the games.”

  She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I want a baby, Caine. Your baby.”

  Caine saw his dream wither and die. “No.”

  She stared at him, incredulous. “You won’t give me a child, even for the chance to win back your home?”

  “Not even if you promised me salvation. Besides, you’re not about to bear the shame of having a bastard—and I won’t let any child of mine grow up as one.”

  “God, you are so sickeningly sentimental sometimes. It’s one of your more aggravating qualities.”