The Wicked Games of a Gentleman, page 31
He shook his head in amused resignation. Ironically, he’d been hoping to impress Lily with his subtle wit. It hardly seemed fair that he should reap continued profits for committing a crime he would prefer to forget.
But the fact remained. His masked counterpart had brought many an aloof lady to her knees, which only went to prove that there really was no rest unto the wicked. Or unto the Boscastles, if one chose to recognize the difference.
It seemed to take Jocelyn forever to wend her way through the lonely castle hallways, then up a steep staircase to reach the east tower. The sounds of revelry in the west wing grew faint, only the piping notes of a flageolet still clearly audible. When she had first received Adam’s note, she’d thought the notion of a midnight summons romantic and adventurous.
Who would have guessed her proper suitor capable of such a passionate gesture?
It went without saying that if a proposition to tryst in the tower had come from any of the other young men at the party, she would have been offended. No one had ever tendered her such a wicked offer before.
But Lord Adam Chiswick was both a brave officer and an honorable man who’d made no secret that he intended to ask for her hand at the house party. Secretly, Jocelyn was a little pleased that he was showing this reckless streak. Never once had she guessed that such a lively spark smoldered beneath his endearing predictability.
Which made his invitation to meet in secret all the more irresistible. To judge by his spidery handwriting, he was as nervous about an illicit encounter as she was. Had she not been convinced that a marriage proposal was in the offing, she would have flung the invitation in his face.
And he’d asked her to wear a mask to protect her from being identified on the way here, bless his gentlemanly upbringing.
Suddenly she stood before the black arched doorway. A shiver of anxiety diminished her sense of anticipation. What if they were caught? They would be forced to rush into their marriage and—
Before she could change her mind about proceeding with the rendezvous, the door opened and she gazed into the room. She could only perceive a dark-clad figure standing against a backdrop of even darker shadows.
“Be careful,” warned a baritone voice that sounded familiar and yet strangely more masculine than Adam’s—except on the fortunately infrequent occasions when he gave his impression of Wellington as a party favor.
She lifted her hand self-consciously to her mask. “It’s as dark as—”
An iron-grip closed around her wrist and drew her effortlessly into the tower. The door shut behind her with a heavy thud that reverberated through the soles of her feet. She half-stumbled, feeling herself steadied by that firm grasp again.
“This was a hell of a place to meet,” he remarked dryly, his mouth against her cheek. “There isn’t even a bed to—”
“A bed?”
His voice. It sounded—well, heavens above, no wonder his voice was so unexpectedly deep and muffled, considering he wore not only a mask but a handsome black hooded cloak that swathed him from head to mid-calf. He must be wearing a new pair of boots, too, that boosted his height. She had to admit she was privately delighted by his daring get-up. He didn’t seem at all himself. Had the costume brought out his masculinity?
His big intrusive body walked her backward against the wall. She drew a deep breath as he demanded, “Am I going to have to take you prisoner? Or do you surrender yourself to me without a struggle?”
She giggled in disbelief. “What?”
“Do you want to pretend you’re my hostage?” he asked in an amused whisper. “I didn’t have enough notice to make preparations for your captivity.” He turned his head as if assessing the dark. “I suppose there might be a tapestry tassel I could use to subdue you.”
That voice. Oh, God. A shiver ran through her. Oh, dear God.
“‘Subdue’—your hostage?”
“Shall I tie you by the wrists or by the ankles?”
That voice. Her throat closed.
“Or both?” he offered rather politely.
“You did not just say you intend to bind me with a tassel?” she asked hoarsely.
“A tisket. A tassel. What does it matter? Just as long as we don’t leave telltale marks on that lovely flesh.”
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“You’re not allowed to know my identity,” he answered in a stage whisper.
She shook her head, shivering again. She could not decide whether her befuddlement stemmed from shock or from the fact that his gloved fingers had set off in a wandering foray down her cheek to her shoulders, only to dip in the valley of her breasts and wickedly circle her nipple. A wave of faintness swept over her.
The hooks and eyes of her gown, which had taken the maid a dedicated quarter-hour to fasten, sprang open as if by a wizard’s touch. Cool air mingled with the touch of warm leather to caress her skin.
Half-naked, she thought. A stranger in masquerade had just loosened her gown. Her voice unsteady, she said, “This game has gone too far.”
“Then I’ll play whatever game that pleases you,” he replied, his firm mouth trailing down her mouth to the tops of her breasts. “Do you want me to hold you up or hold you down?” With his free hand he wrenched off his hood. “I could have chosen a far more comfortable place for us to meet, by the way.”
That voice. It did not belong to Adam, muffled or not. Nor did the knowing caress that teased her breasts before sliding down her belly to the hollow below.
“You aren’t Adam,” she said, her bones dissolving the instant she spoke the words, even though somewhere deep inside she’d known it from the moment he’d taken her into his arms.
He hesitated, irony vibrating in his low velvet voice. “And you’re not Lily.”
“Lily?” she echoed faintly.
“I’m flattered, actually, that you went to all this trouble to arrange a tryst. But if you desired me, there wasn’t any need for deception. I would have most likely come out of curiosity.”
“Deception?”
“Unless intrigue is the element that excites you,” he added.
His eyes glinted as if to mock her through the slits of his mask. A gasp rose in her throat. The next thing she knew he was bending her backward, over his sinewy forearm in a position of subjugation. The steel-hard muscles of his thighs tightened and locked her to him. He angled his body closer until she felt his shaft thicken against her belly.
His hard mouth descended on hers in a deep, devastating kiss that would have silenced her had she been capable of speech. Indeed, she was submerged in too many sensations to wage a defense. She wanted to blame her breathless disequilibrium on the darkness that engulfed them. But even the darkness did not allow her to continue pretending that the strong body molded to hers belonged to the man she had come here to meet.
“Let’s do away with our masks, shall we?” he murmured. “As a matter of fact, let’s do away with the dress you’re wearing.”
“It’s you,” she said in a strangled voice.
Who in attendance at the house party was devious enough to lure her to the tower using a respectable gentleman’s name? Who but a master of immorality and subtle persuasion would not only have dared, but succeeded?
“Devon Boscastle.” She stared up into his beguiling face as he removed his mask. His beautiful mouth quirked into a grin.
“Jocelyn.” He added insult to injury by breaking into laughter. “It is you. Well, slap me sideways.”
“Of course it’s me,” she said, straightening indignantly. “As if you hadn’t lured me here.”
Also by Jillian Hunter
( published by Ivy Books)
THE SEDUCTION OF AN ENGLISH SCOUNDREL
THE LOVE AFFAIR OF AN ENGLISH LORD
THE WEDDING NIGHT OF AN ENGLISH ROGUE
The Wicked Games of a Gentleman is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An Ivy Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2006 by Maria Hoag
Excerpt from The Sinful Nights of a Nobleman by Jillian Hunter
copyright © 2006 by Maria Hoag
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ivy Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
IVY BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming edition of The Sinful Nights of a Nobleman by Jillian Hunter, published by Ballantine Books. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
www.ballantinebooks.com
eISBN: 978-0-345-49525-9
v3.0
Jillian Hunter, The Wicked Games of a Gentleman
