Once and Always
Page 95

Jason drew a long, unsteady breath as if he was bracing himself for something difficult; then he flattened his hands on the desk on either side of her and leaned down. He touched his lips to hers, and the sweetness of his touch was almost past bearing. Victoria’s head tipped back under the brief pressure of his mouth, upsetting her balance, and, as Jason lifted his head to draw away, she clutched at his arms for leverage. To Jason, having her hands on his arms, holding him in his bent position, was like inviting a starving man to a banquet. His mouth swooped down on hers, moving with tender fierceness, and when she began kissing him back, his kiss became more insistent. He parted her lips with his tongue, teasing her, urging her to respond.
Timidly, her tongue touched his, and Jason lost control. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her from the desk and pulling her body tight against his. He felt her hands slide up his chest and curve eagerly around his neck, holding his face to hers, and the encouragement he sensed in her gesture ignited a blaze of passion in him that nearly obliterated his reason. Against his will, his hand slid from her back to her midriff, then moved upward, cupping the intoxicating ripeness of her fall breast. Victoria trembled at the intimacy of his touch, but instead of pulling away, as Jason expected her to do, she fitted her body tightly against his rigid arousal, as lost in the passionate kiss as he was.
Captain Farrell’s cheerful voice sounded in the hallway, just outside the study: “Don’t bother, Northrup, I know the way.” The door to the study was flung open and Victoria jerked free of Jason’s embrace. “Jason, I—” Captain Farrell began as he strode into the study. He stopped short, an apologetic grin on his face as his gaze took in Victoria’s pink cheeks and Jason’s dark frown. “I should have knocked.”
“We’re finished,” Jason said dryly.
Unable to meet her friend’s eyes, Victoria sent a fleeting smile in Jason’s direction and mumbled something about going upstairs to change her clothes for supper.
Captain Farrell put out his hand. “How are you, Jason?”
“I’m not certain,” Jason replied absently, watching Victoria leave.
Mike Farrell’s lips twitched with laughter, but his amusement faded to concern as Jason turned away and walked slowly over to the windows. As if he was incredibly weary, Jason ran his hand across the back of his neck massaging the tense muscles as he stood staring out across the lawns.
“Is anything wrong?”
Jason’s answer was a grim laugh. “Nothing is wrong, Mike. Nothing I don’t deserve. And nothing I can’t take care of.”
When Mike left an hour later, Jason leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The desire Victoria had ignited in him was still eating at him like fire licking at his belly. He wanted her so badly that he ached with it. He wanted her so badly he had to grit his teeth and fight against the urge to bound up the stairs and take her right now. He felt like strangling her for telling him to be a “considerate” husband and keep a mistress.
His child-bride was twisting him into knots. She had wanted to play chess and cards with him; now she was trying her hand at a more titillating game—teasing him. Victoria had become a tease, and she was superbly, instinctively effective. She sat on his desk, she sat on the arm of his chair, she brought him a present, she asked him for a kiss. Brutally he wondered if she had pretended he was Andrew when he was kissing her a few minutes ago, as she had pretended he was Andrew when they got married.
Disgusted with his body’s relentless craving for her, he surged to his feet and walked swiftly up the wide, winding staircase. He had known he was marrying another man’s woman—only he hadn’t expected it to bother him so much. Pride alone prevented him from forcing her to go to bed with him again. Pride, and the knowledge that, when it was over, he would feel no more satisfaction than he had felt on their wedding night.
Victoria heard him moving about in his room and she knocked on the connecting door. He called to her to come in, but her smile faded abruptly when she walked in and saw Franklin, his valet, packing a bag, while Jason stuffed papers from the pile on the table in front of the fireplace into a leather case. “Where are you going?” Victoria gasped.
“To London.”
“But—why?” she persisted, so disappointed she could hardly think.
Jason glanced at his valet. “I’ll finish packing, Franklin.” He waited until the valet withdrew and closed the door, then said shortly, “I can work better there.”
“But last night you said you couldn’t come to London and stay there with me tonight, because you had to be here to meet with some people early tomorrow.”
Jason stopped shoving papers into his case and straightened. With deliberate crudity he said, “Victoria, do you know what happens to a man when he is kept in a state of unrelieved sexual arousal for days at a time?”
“No,” Victoria said weakly, and shook her head for emphasis.
“In that case, I’ll explain it to you,” he snapped.
Victoria apprehensively shook her head. “I-I don’t think you should—not when you’re in one of your moods.”
“I did not have ‘moods’ before I met you,” Jason bit out. Turning his back to her, he braced his hands on the mantel, and stared down at the floor. “I’m warning you, go back to your room before I forget what a ’considerate‘ husband I’m supposed to be and I don’t bother going to London.”
Victoria felt sick. “You’re going to your mistress, aren’t you?” she demanded chokingly, remembering unbelievingly how sweet he had seemed when she gave him his gift.
“You are beginning to sound unpleasantly like a jealous wife,” he said between his teeth.
“I can’t help it, I am a wife.”
“You have a very peculiar idea of what being a wife means,” he mocked savagely. “Now, get out of here.”
“Damn you!” Victoria blazed. “I don’t know how to be a wife, can’t you see that? I know how to cook and sew and look after a husband, but you don’t need me for that, because you have other people to take care of you. And I’ll tell you something else, Lord Fielding,” she continued, working herself into a fine rage, “I may not be a very good wife, but you’re an impossible husband! When I offer to play chess with you, you get angry. When I try to seduce you, you get nasty—”
She saw Jason’s head jerk up, but she was so angry she didn’t pay any heed to the stunned expression on his face. “And when I bring you a gift, you go off to London to see your mistress!”