His Wicked Kiss Part 44

"Yes," he said. It had felt good. At least it had made him a little less livid.

She planted her feet, refusing to budge. "What is going on?"

He turned and glared at her. "I'll tell you what's going on, love. Your dancing days are over."

"What, are you jealous?"

"Oh, I don't know. The last I saw you, you were in the ballroom surrounded by leering admirers, then you disappeared, now I find you in here having a nice, cozy tete-a-tete with another man. I think I have a right to be a little peeved, dear."

"It wasn't a tete-a-tete! I was waiting for you. It wasn't as though I invited him here-he followed me. You told me that if I ever saw you with the Spaniard, I should stay away! I was following your orders!"

"He had no right to speak to you without asking my permission."

She heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes, and seemed to strive for patience. "Do you even know who that was? He had a reason to speak to me. Remember my father's patron-"

"I don't care," he cut her off. "I'm going to tell you something. And I want you to listen well."

Her green eyes scanned his face, her expression turning slightly intimidated as he fixed her with a brooding stare. "What?"

"If any man touches you while I'm away, he's dead when I get back. Do you understand me?"

She gazed at him with a look of hurt at the mere suggestion that she would ever be unfaithful.

Aye, she might feel that way now, but six months was plenty of time for a beautiful young woman to begin to feel neglected and look elsewhere for company.

"Furthermore, I don't want you dancing," he ordered. "I will not have another man's hands all over my wife."

Her jaw clenched, her hurt expression hardened to one of angry defiance. "Fine, master. I'll never dance again."

"Good," he said through gritted teeth. "Now, let's go home."

He turned away and continued pulling her along behind him by her hand like a wayward child. Some might argue that's all women really were. They reached the ballroom and forged on through the crowd.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she demanded.

"We'll talk in the carriage."

"My first ball, and I can't believe the night's already ruined."

"You'll live. Besides," he added, ignoring her indignant huff, "it's our last night together before I go. I've no desire to spend it with these fools. Do you?"

Eden didn't answer, too cross at him for ruining the night.

Perhaps when they were alone and he'd had a few puffs on one of his favorite cigars to help him calm down, as he sometimes did when he was in a mood, the man would listen to reason.

Never had she suspected that her husband would prove to be such a jealous man. He was as bad as Connor! After last night, how could he think she could ever have the slightest interest in anyone but him? But whatever the reason, Jack had worked himself into such a state that she knew it was pointless to argue.

As he dragged her by her gloveless hand back through the ballroom toward the exit, she noticed him watching everyone, giving the evil eye to ladies who seemed to be engaged in gossip, and shooting downright dirty looks at the men.

If she didn't know better, she would have p.r.o.nounced him thoroughly paranoid. What on earth had gotten into him?

She had to lift up the hem of her skirts to keep from tripping as he pulled her along briskly toward the exit. The milling crowd parted ahead of them; Jack's fierce stare chased the other guests out of his path. Eden pasted on a hapless smile, trying to pretend everything was fine, but her husband's black scowl no doubt told the world that something was seriously amiss.

If only she knew what it was!

She got the feeling there was more to this than his ire about silly Lord Pembrooke.

They were almost to the exit when a mismatched couple stepped into their path-Eden instantly thought that the pair were father and daughter.

The little white-haired man was frail and elderly, with a cane; shepherding him along with ill-concealed impatience was a glamorous dark-eyed brunette who glittered in diamonds.

Jack stopped in his tracks so abruptly that Eden b.u.mped her nose on his arm. "Ow."

She shot him an irritated glance at the lack of warning, only to notice the shock of recognition that flashed across his face.

Before them, the glittering lady's reaction was the same. Her rouged lips had parted in surprise; now the diamonds on her tiara twinkled as she angled her head down, looking Jack over in a slow perusal from his head to his feet, and then back up again.

"Why, mercy me!" she exclaimed in a breathy tone. "If it isn't Jack Knight!"

Well! I never, Eden thought in offense. Perhaps it was her turn to be jealous. She frowned at the woman's flare of interest in her stallion of a husband.

Jack was clearly put off, too. He bristled and kept his distance. "Indeed. It's been a long time. Lord Avonworth." He gave the ancient fellow a slight bow. "I hope you are in good health."

Avonworth? Eden tried to place the t.i.tle.

The woman patted her doddering father's arm. "I do my best to take care of him."

"What?" the old fellow yelled, cupping his ear. "Who are you, young man?"

Jack just looked at him, as though biting his tongue to stop the reply he would have liked to have given.

Eden waited, her brow furrowed, as the woman once again trailed a decidedly l.u.s.ting gaze over her husband.

"I heard you were back," she purred. "You look good, John. Life must be treating you well. I hear that you're very successful."

John? Eden looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced drily at her, as though guessing her thoughts.

"Yes, Maura, life's been very good to me-recently, in particular. For, you see, a few months ago, it sent this angel into my path."

Maura? Good Lord! His first love. Now that she knew, Eden felt much better, indeed, as Jack drew her closer, including her in the conversation.

"I just got married, and this is my bride. Isn't she gorgeous?" he added in a wicked tone.

Eden eyed him warily askance as he put his arm around her. She knew that silky, evil note in his voice; she hadn't heard it in a while, but it always meant he was up to something.

Maura bore the news of their marriage looking like somebody had punched her in the stomach; however, she managed a haughty nod. "Felicitations to you both."

"This is that person I told you about," Jack murmured in her ear, deliberately speaking just loud enough so that Maura, too, could hear his words.

Eden smiled uncomfortably at the marchioness, determined to maintain at least some semblance of tact in this exchange.

But tact was the last thing Jack wanted.

He smiled, handsome as sin, and full of treachery. "Darling, allow me to present Lord and Lady Avonworth."

Oh, dear, she thought as she bowed her head respectfully. His hand molding her waist, Jack was holding her too close for her to make a proper curtsy to the high-ranking aristocrats. In fact, if he did not release her in a moment, that voucher to Almack's might never materialize. The ton could not approve of such displays of marital affection.

He showed no intention of unhanding her. If anything, his clench tightened, turning more sensuous.

Maura's face was taut. Her hands sparkled with an array of jeweled rings as she clasped her fingers before her, looking down her nose at Eden. "Charming."

Eden began turning crimson at the lady's haughty scrutiny, but Jack seemed very glad to let Maura look her fill.

His impudent stare seemed to say: She's younger than you, more beautiful than you, smarter than you, and she's carrying my child. "I found her in the tropics," he told his old flame, giving Eden a smoky glance as though he could hardly wait to get his hands on her even now.

Her blush deepened. That pirate glint she had glimpsed in his turquoise eyes when he had tossed Lord Pembrooke into the fountain was back-and it had intensified.

"It was a most... pleasurable voyage, wasn't it, pet?"

Eden thought she might step on his foot if he didn't knock it off.

Maura couldn't seem to resist. "She's a little young, isn't she?"

"You think?" he answered in a husky tone, pulling Eden closer. "Come here, sweet."

Eden's eyes widened, but it was too late to flee as he captured her face in one hand and cupped the other around her nape, smoothly capturing her in a sensuous, inescapable hold.

He lowered his head and claimed her mouth before everyone present, in a deep, slow, shocking kiss. Eden heard the collective gasp from all around them, but she was paralyzed.

I am going to kill him.

Her attraction to Jack along with his expertise as a lover never failed in their drugging effect on her senses, weakening her, but her logical mind was appalled at the certain scandal.

Which her pagan of a husband knew perfectly well would be the result. A scandalous display of red-hot l.u.s.t.

Rallying her wits, she pressed her hands against his chest, trying to stop him, but it only made him clench her harder.

Oh, he was the very devil! she thought furiously.

It was the exact same thing he had done that first day in the jungle, when he had kissed her for all he was worth just to enrage Papa. Connor had wanted to kill him that day.

Eden was tempted to now.

But G.o.d, he tasted good.

Her emotions careened. The man bewildered her. She knew exactly why he was doing this: his fit of jealousy.

If he disgraced her in Society, then he didn't have to worry about her dancing while he was away.

He didn't have to leave her all the way in Ireland to make sure she would be isolated. Cruel, cruel...

As he stroked her hair and delved his tongue into her mouth in a way that would have driven her wild if they were in private, she suddenly seized on a plan.

She had come too far to let him get her tossed out of Society on her ear. He could act like a pagan pirate if he chose, but she was not about to let him drag her down with him.

"Well!" Maura uttered in a strangled tone that strove for lightness as Jack finally ended the defiant, and admittedly delicious, kiss.

Her single syllable dropped like a penny in the excruciating silence.

With smoldering eyes and flushed skin, Jack licked his lips and looked at Eden as though he'd like to devour her on the spot.

She was glad she had been to the theater, for no words could have saved her at a time like this; she didn't even try to speak, resorting to the most melodramatic gesture a lady could call forth.

Lifting her hand to her brow, she rolled her eyes up into her head and let out a dizzy sigh of distress, then went limp, pretending to faint.

Jack caught her as another gasp erupted from all the onlookers around them-but she was fairly sure they had bought it. All, of course, but her pirate husband, who laughed-and thus made himself appear even more of a villain for his shocking lack of concern.

Eden stubbornly pretended unconsciousness as Jack swept her up into his arms. She let her head fall against his left shoulder, while his right arm hooked beneath her knees.

Her heart pounding wildly, however, she spied on the whole scene through the veil of her lashes. It was difficult to tell if Maura's shocked expression signified that she was appalled or envious of this sort of ravishment; indeed, a lot of the ladies were fanning themselves quite rapidly as they looked on, pretending to be horrified.

"Oh, that poor girl!" they whispered.

"Sweet young creature! What she must have to put up with!"

"That beast!"

"Wicked."

The garden ladies stared hungrily at Jack as he carried Eden out.

"Will you excuse us, please?" he commanded drily. "It's all right. Don't worry, I'll take good care of her," he added with a sinister smile.

Then he went swaggering out of the ballroom with her in his arms like some dark pagan G.o.d making off with his virgin sacrifice-or Hades collecting Persephone to spend half the year with him, as promised, in his underworld kingdom of h.e.l.l.

Well, at least now no one could claim that there was any lack of pa.s.sion between them, Jack thought in brooding satisfaction as he carried his bride down the corridor that flanked the ballroom.

Worried servants waved him into a tranquil and dimly lit library at the end of the hallway, but he shook his head when they asked if he wished them to send for a doctor.

They hovered about as he carried Eden in through the double doors and laid her down gently on one of the brown leather couches.

"Brandy?" he queried.

"Here, my lord." A footman quickly poured a draught for the fainted lady. "It should help to steady her nerves."

She didn't open her eyes, the little liar.