Chapter 7 #2
“I told you to stop.” His voice dropped even lower this time, rough at the edges, making her pause despite herself.
His jaw was tight, his green eyes blazing as they bore down on hers mere inches away.
“You are too reckless for your own good. Do you know that? You sneak into my home. You rifle through my things. You lock us in a room together and wave evidence in my face, then beat at me as if I am the source of all your grief.” His voice was dangerously quiet now.
“Stop provoking me, Elara. I am warning you.”
“Or what?” she breathed, her chest heaving against his. “You will continue to lie to me? Continue to—”
“Stop.” The word came out fractured this time, and for just a moment, something raw and unguarded moved through his eyes.
Before Elara could move or even think, his lips sealed over hers. Amid her fury at the intrusion, she sensed a strong, undeniable craving for more.
Then she bit him.
“Wench!” Constantine snarled as pain shot through his bottom lip, and the taste of copper filled his mouth.
He did not stop his kiss, though. Instead, her little bite only fueled the lust feeding his rage, and he tightened his grip on her wrists and kissed her harder.
It was wrong. He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he needed to stop several seconds ago.
Yet with every press of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, his anger and Elara’s seemed to shift toward something different.
His blood sang with satisfaction as the little snarling noises in her throat shifted to whimpers and her harsh breathing soothed into long, drawn-out pants.
A groan of pure pleasure escaped his throat as he pressed his body even more against hers, and he nearly broke the kiss with a curse at how good she felt, melted against him.
He was so caught up in the pleasure of it all that he did not register the sound of knocking at the door, or the fumbling of keys beyond.
Elara, however, must have, for she suddenly turned her face away from his, drew up her knee, and hit him square in the groin.
With a grunt, Constantine let her go, staggering back a few steps just as the study door flung open, revealing Adrian, Nora, Bridget, and the young woman who had been close to Elara nearly all evening.
Constantine looked from them to Elara, and his eyes widened at her unkempt state. Her lips were swollen and bruised from his kiss, her cheeks and bosom were flushed, and her blue eyes were wide and wild. Even her hair looked a bit mussed.
Constantine then licked his teeth as he drew a hand to his mouth, not just tasting the copper of his blood but finding it on his fingertips as he drew his hand away.
This was not good.
Constantine turned slowly, his expression unreadable, and met Adrian’s thunderous gaze without so much as a blink.
“This had better not be what it looks like,” Adrian snarled, looking ready to kill Constantine where he stood.
“Someone had better explain this at once!” Nora hissed, slamming the study door shut. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to ruin yourself before your debut?”
“Mama, brother, please! This... it is not what it looks like!” Elara exclaimed, surprising Constantine. He had assumed she would blame him for the predicament. After all, he had kissed her rather aggressively, and she had bitten him for it.
“Oh, why me?” Nora sobbed, collapsing into a nearby chair. “Why me? Have I not suffered enough, Elara? To lose a child to death and now another to scandal! Oh, it is too much! I cannot bear it!”
Nora let out a loud sob as she dropped her head into her hands, alarming Constantine. Elara, however, wasted no time moving past him and going to her knees to comfort the dowager.
“Please, Mama, let me explain,” Elara quietly insisted. “This is not what you think.”
“Ashworth,” Adrian gritted out.
His angry tone pulled Constantine’s focus from the scene, and he looked to his left to find Evander’s younger brother watching him with seething hatred.
“I should challenge you to a duel for what I have just witnessed,” Adrian’s deep voice threatened through gritted teeth. “Do you understand that if word of it gets out, my sister will be ruined?”
“Adrian.” Bridget’s hand came down firmly on her husband’s arm, her voice quiet yet absolutely immovable. “You will do no such thing.”
“Bridget—”
“A duel? Listen to your wife, Redgrave. I have no need for a duel, and you certainly do not,” Constantine said, his tone weary as he wiped the blood from his chin with his thumb.
Adrian’s brows furrowed as Elara lifted her head from her mother’s lap.
Even Nora herself raised her tear-filled eyes to him.
A year ago, Constantine would not only have laughed at the idea of a duel with a Mason but would have accepted the offer immediately.
However, his life had changed, and he was no longer looking out only for himself or his brother.
There was a new life, an innocent life, that needed his protection.
And now, so did Elara. Even if he was what she had needed protection from in the first place.
“I shall do what honor dictates and take her hand in marriage,” Constantine agreed.
“No!” Elara shouted, rising quickly to her feet.
“Hush, child!” Nora quickly chastised, gripping Elara’s wrist. “This is a good thing! His Grace is willing to protect your reputation.”
“But no one else saw!” Elara insisted, her eyes widening with panic as she looked from Constantine to her family.
“They may not have seen, but they have certainly heard,” Adrian gritted out, still looking furious. “You have both been missing from the ballroom for some time now. Trust me when I say rumors are already swirling. The moment we step out of this room, they will only intensify.”
Constantine scowled at the thought, wishing once again he had never accepted that blasted invitation.
“But it was just a kiss,” Elara insisted, looking from her mother to her brother. “Or we could say that he had an accident! Look at how he bleeds! That is because I bit him!”
“It does not matter whether we kissed,” Constantine sighed in frustration.
He was not going to bring up how she had softened under his touch, how her breath and lips had surrendered to him so quickly after she delivered that stinging bite to his bottom lip.
Elara’s eyes focused on him, hurt shining in them as it was he who had betrayed her.
“You sealed our fate the moment you locked us in this room, Elara,” Constantine said, his gaze and tone devoid of pity as he stared her down. “I told you to let me out. I told you to believe me and move on.”
“Move on?” Nora asked, looking from her daughter to Constantine. “Move on from what?”
“Nothing, Mama.”
“Nothing, Mother.”
Elara and Adrian replied in unison, and suddenly Constantine realized that Nora had no idea that Elara was still looking for Evander. Judging by Adrian’s sharp tone, he was clearly unhappy with Elara’s efforts. This, Constantine decided, was a family matter that he wanted no part in.
“Make whatever arrangements you wish,” Constantine said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he strode to the study door. He needed to leave, to be done with this night, immediately. “Just let me know when I need to stand before the priest.”
Elara grabbed his wrist as he reached for the door handle, and he turned to meet her gaze. Guilt roiled through his veins as he saw the depth of her despair, but he did his best to push it aside.
“This is it, then?” she asked, her voice laced with desperation. “You are just going to let this happen to us? We despise each other! I do not want to marry you any more than you want to marry me!”
Constantine drew in a short breath and shrugged his shoulders.
“You should have thought about that before locking us into the same room together. I tried to tell you the truth. Perhaps if you had listened, none of this would have happened.”
Elara’s lips parted in response, but she said nothing, gazing at him. Taking the opportunity, Constantine opened the study door and let the Mason family return to their ruined evening.