Chapter 9

She shuddered at his words, appalled that the image he described produced a new wave of wetness between her thighs, and she marched to the bed unceremoniously. She laid down like a stiff board and turned away from him.

“I shall sleep here this evening, my dear. I no longer trust you.” He chuckled. “Not that I had much trust to start with, but I am surprised you managed to finagle your way out of a locked room. You must tell me about that sometime.”

Without looking at him, she said, “I am hardly likely to reveal my secret to you, for I am sure to need to do so again.”

“You will cease trying to escape. I do not understand your perplexing behavior, Maddy. You clearly want me and respond to my touch. Why are you doing this?”

She gritted her teeth, refusing to answer. It seemed hopeless to try, and he still seemed to think she was indulging in some kind of game. How could she convince him otherwise when he was determined to remain unconvinced?

***

He bound her wrists and stuffed a cloth in her mouth the next morning prior to covering her face with a heavy veil and body with a cloak before escorting her from his townhouse. Maddy did her best to resist, but all he had to do was put an arm around her waist, hand firmly on her hip, and lift her a few inches off the ground to carry her. He had a distinct physical advantage over her, and she resented it.

When she was in the carriage, he gave her a sympathetic look. “I would remove all that, but you have proven yourself untrustworthy. Once we have left the confines of London, I will consider removing your gag, for you are unlikely to garner anyone’s attention even if you shout like a banshee.”

She glared at him before looking away, determined to ignore him as much as possible. He didn’t deserve acknowledgment, especially since that was what he so clearly craved—her attention.

She spent the next hour traveling uncomfortably with her wrists bound in front of her, and her mouth stuffed with the gag. After they finally left the confines of London and were surrounded by bucolic pasture, he leaned forward, fingers on the handkerchief in her mouth. “You are unlikely to attract attention with screaming, but you will certainly set my nerves on edge. I would hate to be forced to gag you again, for I will not give you a second chance. Do you understand?”

She thought about continuing to ignore him, but her jaw was aching from the way the cloth was stuffed in her mouth, so she gave him a sullen look and nodded once before looking away again. His fingers were unexpectedly gentle as they removed the cloth, and her eyes widened when he rubbed her jaw lightly on both sides, as though realizing the spots were tender from the way she had been forced to hold her jaw.

“I wish you would set aside the silly games. Why can you not acknowledge your desire for me and accept what I have to offer you?”

She glared at him. “What you have to offer is not enough.”

He scowled. “I have already told you I would never marry you.”

“I have said the same as well. Whatever you offer, you cannot interest me in being your mistress or your lover. I want nothing to do with you.” Her speech sounded good, but her mind insisted on supplying an image of her writhing against his fingers yesterday as he touched her, and she flushed before looking away again.

“We are going to the family seat. It is a remote estate, and I promise you now, you shall find no assistance with the servants. They are well-trained in dealing with madwomen.”

She glared at him. “I am not a madwoman. I am angry, but I am not mad.”

He touched his forehead in a mocking way. “Touché, madam. However, my mad mother is in residence there, and though no doubt the servants will gossip that I have chosen just as poorly as my father, gossip will die down when they realize you are nothing more than my paramour. It does not matter how mad you are for the short term.”

She resented his implications and belief. “I am not crazy. I am not playing games with you either. I have plainly stated I do not want this arrangement between us. You chose to take me and hold me prisoner, and you chose to touch me in such a shameful fashion. If either of us is mad, it is you.”

He grinned, looking unrepentant. “I can certainly drive you mad with desire, and you cannot pretend otherwise, my sweet. You came apart so beautifully underneath me, and I cannot wait to have my cock inside you, feeling the same things.”

She trembled at the idea, mostly with rejection, though she couldn’t deny a small hint of curiosity, and perhaps even a willingness to have a repeat of the day before. He could get a response from her, and that was what made him more dangerous than even Stefan.

“You will soon settle in, and then we can indulge our every desire. I have no intention of keeping you forever, Maddy. I only want you until we are bored with each other.”

“Yet you do not care about what I want.”

He moved closer, a menacing look in his eyes. “I can give you exactly what you want. Spread your legs, and I shall pleasure you as I did yesterday…or with my mouth.”

She glared at him. “Base desire is hardly something we should act on. It is to be ignored.”

He grinned. “Yet you cannot refute the desire between us.”

She pursed her lips, considering denying him an answer. After a moment, she said, “I might want you, but that is something I cannot control. I own my mind, and I control my responses emotionally, if not physically. You can wring pleasure from me, and I probably will be unable to resist your efforts, but you will never get any true regard from me.”

He seemed unbothered by that. “That suits me fine. The last thing I want is my mistress to fall in love with me, get a broken heart, and make a dreadful scene when we inevitably part ways.”

“I am not your mistress,” she said firmly.

“Of course, you are not,” he said with an indulgent chuckle. “Which reminds me, I have my secretary finding you a suitable lodging, and he is establishing credit accounts for you with the various shops around London. Once you are ready to sign the contract, he shall deliver the deposit to your bank.”

She looked away from him, staring out the window instead, since a gauzy curtain was all that blocked the view. He had pushed back the heavy drapes once they escaped the smelly area of London. “I shall never sign that contract.”

He sighed, sounding impatient. “If you choose to play the martyr, that is your business, but I will look after you whether you like it or not.”

“That hardly surprises me. You appear to do whatever you want, whether I like it or not.” She looked down at the strips of cloth binding her hands before glaring up at him and looking away again.