Tender Rebel Page 11


"I—I really should take you to task, Sir Anthony." Her voice was thin, shaky, and she had to clear her throat before continuing with more force. "That was devilish unfair of you to leave me no choice back there."

"I know."

"Was it necessary to be so high-handed?"

He stopped, turning her toward him, his eyes moving slowly over her face as he considered her question.

In alarm, Roslynn realized that he had maneuvered them to the far side of the room, that thick branches from one of the trees growing below spread out at their level and effectively concealed them from the doorway. In actuality, they were quite alone for the moment, the sound of the party drowned out by the flow of the fountain.

"Yes, it was necessary," he finally answered huskily. "When all I've been able to think about since I first laid eyes on you is this."

To save her soul, Roslynn couldn't find the will to protest as his arm drew her closer. His other hand slid along her neck, the thumb tilting her chin up, and for the breath of a moment her eyes locked with his.

Then she felt his lips, warm, beguiling, pressing ever so gently on her own, and her lids closed, accepting the inevitable. She had had to know, and now she did. And for the moment, nothing mattered but the taste of him, the feel of him pressed along her length.

Anthony didn't frighten her with his passion but kept it tightly leashed, even though he felt like an inferno about to explode. He couldn't remember when he had wanted something this much, and he took every care not to overwhelm her with what he was feeling, to fan her desire by slow degrees until she wanted him with equal intensity.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, restraining himself when his body cried out to take her here and now. And in fact he was not as self-controlled as he supposed. Nearly mindless with wanting, he was unaware of the little things he was doing to her, that his fingers had slid into her hair, dislodging pins from her coiffure, that his knee had slipped between her own, far enough that she was practically straddling his thigh. But fortunately for him, she was as mindless as he was at this point. He just didn't know it.

Actually, that thigh rubbing against her groin was Roslynn's undoing, coupled as it was with his deepening kisses. He had gradually brought his tongue into play, teaching her the exquisite sensations it could invoke, using it to open her mouth, to taste the sweetness within. He eventually enticed her tongue to explore as well, and once it hesitantly passed between his lips, he wouldn't let it go, gently sucking it deeper and deeper into his mouth.

Helpless under his expertise, Roslynn was quite thoroughly seduced, ready and willing to let him do anything he wanted. When Anthony finally became aware of that fact, he groaned in frustration, for he had unwisely chosen his setting, never dreaming that he would be this successful this quickly.

Trailing his lips to her ear, he beseeched her, "Go to your room, sweetheart. I'll follow you there."

She was dazed, hypnotically so, unable to connect one thought with another. "My room?"

He had the urge to shake her. Now was not the time for confusion, for God's sake! He gripped her shoulders instead.

"Look at me, Roslynn," he said urgently. "We can't stay here. Do you understand? There's no privacy here."

She frowned up at him. "What would we be needing privacy for?"

Hell and fire! Was Regina right? Could Roslynn really be that innocent at her age? He found himself tom between chagrin and pleasure at the thought. If it were true, he risked losing what ground he had gained by bringing her back to her senses. And yet a tender cord was struck, heretofore dormant, wishing it were true.

Anthony sighed, dredging up a degree of patience to reach her. "We're going to make love, you and I.

That is the natural conclusion to what we've been doing. And since we both want to, the thing to do is find someplace we won't be disturbed. You'll agree your room is the logical place."

Roslynn was shaking her head before he had finished. "Och, mon, what have you done? There was to be no kissing—I told you so."

Her lilting brogue served to stir him even more, and he pulled her tightly back against his chest. "It's too late to prevaricate, sweetheart, after you've surrendered in every way but one. Now be a good girl and do as I say, or I'll take you right here, I swear I will, and the devil take anyone who happens upon us."

If he meant to frighten her into complying, it didn't work. She almost laughed at his effort but didn't think he would appreciate that in this present mood that could make him say such a thing. Common sense told her he wouldn't do anything to cause his niece embarrassment. She should have realized that sooner, before she came in here with him.

"You canna use that bluff on me twice, laddie."

At this moment, Anthony wasn't sure it had been a bluff. But that she was boldly calling it restored his reason, even if it didn't completely cool his ardor. He had made a mess of the situation, and if she wasn't angry, she had every right to be.

His smile came with devastating effect. It was his melting smile. "If now just won't do, then I'll come to your room later tonight."

She pushed away from him, shaking her head. "You'll no' get past the door, I promise you that."

"Leave it unlocked."

"I'll no' do that either."

"Your window, then."

Her hazel eyes flared. "So you'll make me suffocate in my room, locking every window? Why canna you just take no for an answer? Have I no' made it plain enough for you?"

"It's the wrong answer, sweetheart, and until it's the right one, you don't really expect me to give up, do you? I must think of my reputation, you know."

She laughed at this, relieving some of her tension. God, but he was incorrigible, utterly lacking in morals,

and oh, so tempting. She had never known a man could have such a powerful sexual allure, so strong that even in her saner moments, knowing full well that he was not the man for her, she could still be drawn to him. But whether he was serious or not in this bold pursuit of her, the only way she was going to survive this present encounter was not to take him seriously at all.

In control again, her eyes chiding him, Roslynn said, "Your reputation is precisely what I am thinking of, Sir Anthony."

"Then I must see if I can't chase such thoughts away—again."

"No!"

She gasped as he reached for her, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the railing, her balance precarious at best, and he was grinning at her. She had thought he meant to kiss her again.Thisshe didn't find amusing at all. The drop behind her was at least eight or nine feet from the top of the railing where she sat to the ground, her feet were dangling off the floor, and she had nothing to grasp hold of if she should lose her balance—except him.

Scowling, she started to jump down, but Anthony stepped closer, and to Roslynn's horror, he flicked her skirt up to her thighs. Now he moved even closer, forcing her legs to part to accommodate his hips, and he leaned his chest into her, pushing her back, back…

"Hold onto me, or you're going to fall over." His voice broke through her panic.

She did, because there was nothing else she could do at the moment. Only he didn't straighten up so she could regain her balance. He kept her dangling half over the railing, his body her only anchor.

"You'll have to do better that that, sweetheart. Wrap your arms around my neck." With one arm he pressed her belly and chest to his. "Now hold tight, because I'm letting go."

"No, dinna—"

"Shh, sweetheart." His breath blew into her ear, sending delicious tremors down her back. "If you won't give in, at least give me this. I need to touch you."

She caught her breath as she felt a hand on each knee, slowly moving up the outside of her thighs, dragging her dress with them. "Stop! You're a bloody… let me down!" And then, in a husky whisper,

"Anthony."

He shivered at the way she said his name. But before she could say any more, his hands reached her hips, and with a sharp pull he had their loins pressed tightly together.

Roslynn moaned softly, her head falling back, her limbs gone all buttery. He might as well have entered her, the feeling was that evocative. And now his lips burned a moist trail along the neck she had exposed to him, and Roslynn quite understandably forgot her precarious position.

"I don't suppose you'll thank me for intruding, Tony, but Lady Grenfell's searching for your little Scot, and she's bound to look in here at any moment."

With a curse, Anthony glanced at James several feet away, to see him tactfully looking down at the fountain, rather than at them. He lifted Roslynn off the railing, his hands still supporting her hips, and for

just a moment more held her like that, savoring the feeling of her in this position, with her legs nearly wrapped around his waist. She was once again in the throes of passion, lips parted, eyes closed, face flushed. He doubted she had even heard James.

"Oh, Christ," he said as he let her slide slowly to her feet, frustrated now beyond measure. "We'll have to continue this another time, sweetheart."

She stepped back, her legs wobbly, and over several long moments he watched her eyes gradually focus, finally widen, and then promptly narrow. Fascinated, Anthony didn't even see her hand coming, but the palm cracked solidly against his cheek.

"There'll no' be another time, mon, for what you're wanting," she said quietly, but with enough force that he couldn't doubt her temper was boiling. "I dinna ken your rules, and you canna be trusted to play fair, so just stay away from me."

She flounced off in the direction they had been taking, continuing around the room. Anthony didn't try to follow her. He sat back on the railing, fingering his cheek, and watched her until she was gone from sight.

"I was wondering when that Scot's temper would surface." He grinned as James came up beside him."I'd say you were let off lightly."

Anthony's grin widened. "She didn't even know you were here."

"Bragging, brother?"

"Just feeling inordinately pleased, old man."

"Well, now that you've left her in this raging mood, I don't suppose you'll mind if I try my luck?"

Anthony's humor vanished instantly. "Stay away from her, James."

A blond brow shot up. "Possessive, aren't we? But I believe those words were hers—to you. And after all, dear boy, you haven't won her yet."

Chapter Eleven

Justin Warton proved such delightful company that Roslynn's temper was able to subside completely in less time than she could have hoped for, considering what a foul temper she had when it was fully aroused. And she had been furious, the more so when Frances found her just coming out of the conservatory and promptly whisked her upstairs to repair her coiffure, which she hadn't even realized had fallen into such a telling state of disarray. Horrid man to leave her looking as if she had just been manhandled, which she had been, which forced her to suffer through a stern lecture from Frances, albeit deserved.

Sheknewshe had been foolish,knewshe had taken a terrible risk. She didn't need to be told so with such

sterling clarity. But she couldn't take exception to Frances' anger in her behalf, since it was based on love and concern. She could only be more furious with herself, for upsetting Frances and for knowing better in the first place.

After a long harangue about Sir Anthony's sordid reputation, Frances had concluded with, "You simply must never find yourself alone with him again, Ros, especially since you are so obviously attracted to him."

"I never said that, Frances."

"You didn't have to. I saw it the moment Regina brought Sir Anthony forward to be introduced to us.

And I saw the way he looked at you too. Kissing you in the conservatory was one thing, but you know it would't have stopped there if you had been in a less conspicuous place."

Roslynn didn't volunteer that it had gone a step beyond kissing, even in that public place, or that she wasn't at all sure that it might not have gone much, much further if Anthony hadn't fortunately come to his senses and released her.Shecertainly hadn't been the one to break away, nor had she even tried, once she was held firmly in his embrace.

"You should have told me you had met him at the Crandal ball." Frances' tone suddenly turned hurtful. "I could have warned you sooner, for it's obvious he's marked you for his next conquest."

"Frances, Frances, you didn't have to warn me. I'd already heard the gossip about him at the ball. I knew what a disreputable rake he is."

"And yet you still let him lead you off."

"I told you, he tricked me!" Roslynn cried in exasperation, then promptly regretted her tone. "I'm sorry, but you must stop worrying. I've told him to stay away from me."

Frances pursed her lips, her finely arched brows drawn tightly together. "Do you think your wishes will make the least bit of difference to him? Men like him don't accept rejection, Ros. For some absurd reason, they only become more intrigued the harder the chase. Andthatone, Sir Anthony, is the worst of the lot, simply because he's the handsomest, the most sought after, and the most confirmed bachelor in the Realm. He'll never marry, Ros. He'll never settle for one woman. And why should he when hundreds scheme and plot to win his favor?"

"Frances, you're forgetting how unique my circumstances are. I'm not just another hopeful debutante on the marriage mart. I've got a goal to accomplish, and I'm not going to let anything upset it. The consequences are too abhorrent to me, not to mention dangerous, if I should fail to quickly secure a marriage."

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