Chapter Eleven #5
She let her hand fall away. “I was confident of your good sense returning.” She rubbed the underside of her chin.
The soft kid leather of her glove was like the caress of his fingers against her skin.
“Lady Breckenridge’s arrival presents me with the opportunity to take my leave.
We should discuss that. I am not certain when—”
“Take your leave?” That brought him up short. He watched her walk on, then closed the distance quickly with a few long-legged strides. “What do you mean?”
“Are we discussing it?” asked Olivia. “I have the distinct impression you mean for us to have a row.”
That observation had the effect of cooling Griffin’s heels. “Do you imagine I want you leave?”
“No. The opposite, in fact, but I am hoping you will agree that this is not one of those times when you should have your way. I will be a distraction at best; at worst, a target for Lady Breckenridge and a shield for you. You can comprehend, I hope, that I have no wish to be any of those.”
“Do you believe I hold you or myself in so little regard that I would use you as a shield?”
“Of course not. It is the sort of thing that happens in spite of one’s intentions that it should be otherwise. I believe you will deal more fairly with your wife—and she with you—if I absent myself.”
It was the reasonableness of her argument that undid him. It didn’t matter that he had no liking for what she was proposing; he knew she was right. “I can set you up in a house,” he said finally. “I should have made the offer earlier.”
“It’s all right. I wouldn’t have accepted. In fact, I won’t now.”
“You mean to be difficult.”
“I hadn’t thought so, no. I was hoping we might reach a compromise.”
Griffin had the sense that what she was calling a compromise was merely getting what she wanted all along. He was set on telling her so, but heard himself asking to hear it instead.
“I thought I would return to Jericho Mews.”
“With your brother?”
“I doubt he is spending any more time there than he ever did. That is why it suits. Do you think he will not allow me to stay?”
“Temporarily? He will be pleased to have you. You will relieve him of all the responsibilities that have plagued him these last weeks: the staff quarrels, the budget, the creditors, the rent. Yes, he will most certainly welcome you.”
“I intend to be his guest, not his mother.”
Griffin shrugged. “I am not sure that matters. It is the sort of thing that happens in spite of one’s intentions that it should be otherwise.”
She recognized her own words being turned on her. “It seemed more pertinent when I was talking about you.”
“It frequently does.” His glance was wry. “This is what you want, Olivia? Jericho Mews?”
She caught the sleeve of his greatcoat and held on, raising her face to his when he felt the tug and turned. “No, it’s not what I want, but it is right for now.”
“Tell me what you want. Give me that at least.”
Her hand slid upward from his sleeve and ruffled the capes on its climb to his shoulder. It did not linger there long, but came to rest at the left side of his face. Her thumb made a light tracing along the path of his scar and stopped at the corner of his mouth.
“I want to be with you,” she said. “With you, not apart from you. I don’t want a residence that is purchased for my shelter and your convenience.
I don’t want to wait upon you or your visits.
Neither do I wish to serve at the whim of my brother, nor to be dependent upon him for my keep.
You will have to think carefully about that before you invite me back to the hell.
You will have to be certain that there is a place for me in your life.
” She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips hard to his just once before she settled back on her heels.
Her hand fell to her side, and she was gratified to see that she had surprised and alarmed him.
“Don’t mistake that I mean you must have me for your wife or not at all.
That is not an arrangement that could possibly suit either one of us.
I will accept a place in your life without marriage; in fact, I am certain I prefer it. ”
It was rather a lot to take in, especially when she’d muddled the thing by kissing him as if she’d been compelled to do so.
The impression of her mouth on his remained even as she began walking away.
Griffin glanced around, saw that while they were not alone in the park, no one else was giving them notice, and lunged forward to catch Olivia by the elbow.
Her feet did not quite touch the ground as he half-carried, half-dragged her to the sheltered side of an enormous chestnut.
He shackled her wrists in his hands and drew them as high as her shoulders, then urged her back against the trunk and followed with the press of his hard frame.
There was time enough for her lips to part, but no time to draw a full breath.
His capture was complete when his mouth slanted across hers.
Hungry as he was for the taste of her, he gave no quarter.
His lips worked over hers, his tongue speared her mouth, followed the ridge of her teeth and the sensitive underside of her lip.
He stole a soft moan from the back of her throat and savored it as another man might savor smuggled brandy.
The fact that there were risks in the pursuit and possession made it all the more dear.
He drew back just enough to reposition his mouth. He nudged her lips at an angle, worried the bottom one between his teeth as she so often did, then ran the edge of his tongue across the tiny indentations he’d made.
Olivia was boneless, held up by his hands on her wrists, the trunk at her back, and the knee he thrust between her skirts. She might very well faint if he let her go; she might very well faint if he didn’t.
His will was not a simple thing to ignore. It was like his kiss—coaxing, teasing, gentle and fierce by turns, insistent. He did not always get his way, but he knew what he wanted. Just now he wanted her.
He made her want him in return.
Even as Olivia thought it, she knew it wasn’t quite right. He had not made her want him, he’d simply laid bare her need. She wanted him of her own volition, and her will was every bit as firm and fast as his own. It was equally difficult to ignore.
She wrestled free of his hands and threw her arms around his neck.
Her hood fell back, exposing her hair first to the wind that came in small bursts around the tree trunk, then to his fingers.
She lifted herself against him and wished that he could take her inside his coat, inside his skin if such a thing was possible.
His kiss was as rough as the bark at her back, but she returned it measure for measure, wanting him now in no other fashion than this. Her grip around his neck and back tightened.
Her eyes flew open when she felt the vibration of his groan against her mouth. She drew back so quickly that her head bumped the trunk. Careless of the thump to her own head, her eyes focused on his face first, then on the hold she had on him. “Did I hurt you?”
Griffin bent and touched his forehead to hers. “Not until this moment, and it’s not because you have a lock on my neck.” He eased her hands down. “Come. We can’t remain here. Someone will see us. We should—”
He stopped because Olivia had shifted her head and was no longer gazing into his eyes.
The point of her attention was somewhere past his right shoulder.
Apparently they had already drawn attention.
He straightened, turned to seek out the same view she had, and caught the young gentleman in the act of replacing his hat.
His posture suggested he had recently doffed it, and the smirk on his lips suggested it had been done with a certain insolence.
Griffin’s eyes were drawn to the shock of fair hair cropped and curled close to his head.
He turned his head sharply toward Olivia. She was pale as salt. No other confirmation was required. Griffin took off at a run.