To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (10 page)

He and his sixth round partner, were
victorious—the outright winners. Although he’d won one-hundred
thousand pounds, he didn’t care about the money. He was satisfied
that Sabine had been able to avenge her parent’s treatment by
Gower.

Yet he felt uneasy and somewhat troubled. He
should be feeling elated. He’d won their wager and Sabine would be
in his bed very soon. A sharp pang of regret rocked him as he made
his way toward his carriage, undoing his cravat as he walked. His
victory felt hollow. He’d forced her to her come to him like a
whore—bought and paid for.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

A sharp pang of regret sliced through him.
What he wanted was for her to come to him of her own accord. To
tell him she’d made a mistake all those years ago and that he was
the only man she’d ever loved. Then he wanted to start to learn how
to believe in her and trust her again.

He laughed at himself. He wanted a
fantasy.

He wearily climbed into his carriage,
uncertain of his next move, when a movement flickered in the
darkness and caught his eye. “Who’s there?”

A vision of beauty suddenly leaned forward,
visible in the moonlight spilling in from the open carriage
door.

It was Sabine.

“I thought I’d save you the bother of
hunting for me. Don’t say I never pay my debts. Thank you, Marcus.
Thank you for today.”

He didn’t say a word. His decision was made
the instant he locked eyes with Sabine. He closed the door and
banged on the roof. The hatch opened. “A change of plans, Jeeves;
take me to Roberson House.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Marcus leaned back against the squab,
cursing the rapid beating in his chest. He was almost giddy from
desire. The woman who’d haunted his every waking moment and
pleasured him in his dreams was his to take.

When he entered and found Sabine seated
inside, the impact of all he’d won hit him like a rampaging
bull.

She was finally his.

He wished she’d stop licking her lips, it
was driving him insane.

Giving into his need he said, “Come here,”
and a thrill raced down his spine as she readily obeyed. He pulled
her onto his lap. “I can’t wait.” He kissed her passionately. He
hadn’t meant to admit his craving for her, or to succumb to his
body’s driving need. “I’ve thought of nothing but undressing you
since I saw you that first night at Lady Somerset’s ball.”

“Marcus…” She shivered at the desperate
desire that swept over her body when his mouth settled on the swell
of her bosom.

“I promised myself that when I entered your
body it would not be a rushed coupling. I’d savor you until I’d had
my fill. But God help me, you are driving me to the brink…”

With a curse, he rose and placed her on the
seat opposite and went down on his knees before her.

He slid his hands up her limbs, pushing her
skirts up as he went. His lips found the inside of her thigh and he
seared her skin with his searching kisses. She could barely sit
still. Her breath came in small rapid pants.

The sensuous path he made up the inside of
her leg spoke of pleasure beyond imagining. She’d heard whispers
about a man’s intimate kiss, but she had never experienced it.
Sabine had no idea that it would feel so exciting, and yet so
wicked, all at the same time.

“We don’t have enough time for what I’d
really love to do to you, with you, but I can’t wait to taste you.”
His voice was intoxicatingly sensuous. “I swear I’ll have you
screaming my name before we reach Roberson House.”

Desire played over her skin in ascending
ripples of response. When she looked into his eyes, their color
dark like molten honey, her legs parted of their own accord,
allowing him greater access. His groan only inflamed her
passion.

He used his hands to part her even further,
until she felt open and exposed. He kissed higher up the inside of
her leg, his lips setting her on fire. A soft moan escaped and she
didn’t care.

“Marcus, oh, God…” she gasped into the
confines of the carriage.

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear your
cries.”

She could feel how wet he was making her and
he hadn’t even touched her yet. When the touch of his fingers
finally came, the beguiling strokes raised a throbbing need inside
her that built and grew until she could barely sit still.

His tongue traced a molten path closer to
the apex between her thighs, leaving a cool trail behind; elsewhere
her skin was hot with a feverish need. His unhurried movements fed
her impatience. She let out another enraptured moan as his tongue
swept closer to the part of her that desperately wanted his
attention.

Just as she felt his warm breath at her
core, he suddenly drew back. She looked down. Her skirts were
around her waist, laying her feminine flesh naked to his possessive
gaze. He reached out and ran a finger over her glistening womanhood
and then raised his wet finger to his mouth. She could see it
covered in her juices. He sucked it and licked his lips.

“Ten years. I’ve waited ten years for this.
You’re worth it.” He didn’t hide the hint of smug male satisfaction
in his voice.

She should have felt ashamed but she didn’t.
She’d never responded sexually to any man before; yet, he only had
to look at her and she grew wet, But wet for him alone.

She spread her legs wider, biting her lip to
stop herself from begging him to continue kissing her.

Finally, after one more lingering look, he
leaned forward and touched her with his tongue, just lightly
caressing her. Her body recognized the sensation and she pushed her
hips forward begging for more.

His hands encircled her buttocks, pulling
her down and then upwards to give his mouth better access. Marcus
knew exactly where and how to touch her to prolong her pleasure.
She’d never ever felt anything like it and she was sure she was
about to faint from the heightened sensations sweeping over
her.

Her breathing grew ragged. She no longer
cared whether Jeeves or anyone else heard her cries. She wriggled
closer, urging him on. His tongue stabbed deep within her, making
her shudder. Her head dropped back to rest on the seat. Her flesh
seemed to burn; a heat was consuming her from the inside.

It was almost too much to endure, yet she
prayed he’d never stop. Her eyes widened in anticipation of what
was yet to come; then she closed them up tightly as her climax
ripped through her. His tongue lapped at her, making it last,
drawing out each shuddering sensation until she sagged limply
against the seat, so satiated that she couldn’t move.

Before she could gather herself together, he
stood over her and took her mouth in a deep searching kiss. His
tongue swept in so she could taste herself on his lips. Her arms
crept around his neck and he pulled her in close to him.

“God, you’re addictive. I want you more than
I’ve ever wanted any other woman. The taste of you drives me wild.
I wonder if I’ll ever have enough of you.”

She stiffened in his arms recalling that
this was not real. This was not about a man who owned her heart or
one who loved her. She was with a man she no longer knew and it
killed her little to know this meant nothing except vengeance.
She’d never experienced this sort of pleasure before. He’d probably
done this with hundreds of women. She was simply one more.

She pushed at his chest and put a little
distance between them. “That was incredible. Thank you.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips. “The
night is only just beginning. Take that as an appetizer to the main
course. By the time I’m finished with you, neither of us will have
the energy to talk.”

Without thinking, she looked at the bulge in
his breaches and asked, “Can a woman kiss you in the same manner
that you kissed me?”

He hesitated and slowly turned to face her
squarely. Her cheeks were burning with shame. “I’m sorry, I don’t
know what made me think the idea was possible….” She hung her head.
“I’ve never done…”

He eyed her with a look of disbelief. “Did
your husband never make love to you with his mouth?”

She shook her head.

“Has any man?”

“No,” she said curtly.

“Are you telling me this is the first time
you’ve experienced the oral sex, my love?”

She blanched at the endearment he used, but
nodded.

“Christ, he must have been an idiot.” His
look turned to one of anger. “Did he ever give you pleasure?”

Tears welled suddenly. How could she tell
him that no man but him had ever given her pleasure? “My husband
was quite old. We were always clothed and I simply lay beneath
him….” Her words petered out under his stare of disbelief.

He leaned back and ran a hand through his
hair. Quietly, he spoke. “Why did you marry him? Your father swore
he had not forced you to choose him. Then why did you enter into
this marriage? It didn’t and still doesn’t make sense. Why would
you choose him over me?” He beat his chest as if trying to stamp
out the built up pain within.

She took his large hand in hers and drew it
to her mouth to kiss. She took a deep breath. “I did choose him, I
suppose, but I did not really have a choice. I know that won’t make
sense but that’s all I can tell you. I did not mean to hurt you. If
I could have, I would have stayed with you. But sometimes we cannot
always get what we want, no matter how much we wish for it.”

“What are you not telling me, Sabine? What
happened ten years ago to make you leave me?”

Her tears fell again. She could feel them
sliding down her cheeks. “Please don’t ask me. I can’t tell you.
The past cannot be relived but—but perhaps the future can.”

He reached out and tenderly wiped a tear
away. “Tell me one thing. Did you have feelings for me? Did you
love me?” His voice cracked with emotion on the last question.

She cupped his cheek in her palm and looked
him in the eye. “Yes, I loved you. I have
always
loved you.
I’ve never loved another.”

He crushed her to him and kissed her like
there would be no tomorrow. He hugged her against his beating
heart, holding her close as if he’d never allow her out of his arms
again.

She responded by pouring all the sadness of
the last ten years into the kiss, willing him to understand and
simply leave the past buried.

Both of them were panting by the time the
carriage began to slow to a stop. He broke off the kiss. “Sabine,
what am I to do with you? I should hate you for the misery you put
me through, but I can’t.” He gathered her into his arms, and
kicking open the carriage door, he carried her into Roberson
House.

Marcus surprised her when he didn’t take her
straight up to the bedroom, but rather into a drawing room. The
fire had been lit and the room was warm and inviting. The table was
laid with food and a bottle of wine stood open next to two empty
glasses. The room was elegantly furnished, not disreputable looking
at all. A day-bed had been placed before the fireplace. She’d
somehow built Roberson House up as the epitome of wickedness where
all manner of debauchery occurred. Instead it reminded her of a
family home.

“I thought we could have a late super and,
as you requested, reacquaint ourselves.”

Her mouth opened in surprise. “‘Thank you.
That is very thoughtful.”

She took a seat in the chair by the fire as
Marcus poured them some wine. She watched him as he moved
gracefully toward her. His trousers still bulged tellingly. “Are
you sure that you can wait,” she pointed at his rampant erection.
“Are you not in pain?”

He handed her a glass. “Where you are
concerned, Madam, I’m used to pain.” When she flinched, he added,
“Sorry. A reflex reaction; I’ll manage.” With a wicked smile he
added, “At least hopefully until after we eat.”

He sank his large frame into the chair
opposite and eyed her warily. “So, Sabine, tell me about your life
over the past ten years. Were you happy?”

His breath caught as he watched the
happiness currently blazing from within her eyes, dim.

Her chin lifted slightly and in a shaky
voice she uttered, “I survived.” She took a gulp of wine.

Marcus didn’t know what to say. Whenever his
mood darkened and he thought of her, he always hoped she was
miserable. Now seeing the pain clearly written on her face, it
wrenched at his heart.

“You have a son. What’s his name?”

Her smile returned. “Alfredo. He’s my life.”
In a quieter tone, “He’s all I have now.”

“Is he a bright boy? How old is he?”

She hesitated before answering. She couldn’t
look at him. “He’s almost ten.”

Possessive jealousy ran rampant through him.
“Ten! You must have got with child very quickly after you married.
Yet, you’ve had no other children since.”

She started to say something, but instead
she simply sighed and shook her head. “No. I was never blessed with
another child.”

Silence hung heavily between them.

“You don’t have to do this Sabine. I—I
thought I wanted to see you humiliated, to treat you as I had once
been treated, callously and cruelly. But you are correct. Two
wrongs will never make this right. I’m tired of hating.” He stared
into her mesmerizing eyes. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.
I release you from our wager.” With that, he stood and walked to
the window keeping his back to her.

He desperately wanted her to stay. He’d love
her to stay of her own accord, and be with him because she had
freely chosen it.

“Thank you. You don’t know how much those
words mean to me.” Her husky voice made him tense then his
shoulders slumped with disappointment and regret. She didn’t want
him.

“I’d love to share a meal with you, if you
agree not to rake over the past. Also we agree that tonight is just
about tonight, the here and the now. That we are two—friends
becoming reacquainted.” Her voice came from right behind him. He
hadn’t heard her approach. He turned around slowly and she stood
quietly smiling up at him. She reached up and offered him his glass
of wine.