Taming Ivy (The Taming Series Book 1) Page 24

  Nicholas March’s golden head tilted. Ivy and Veronica were each subjected to his cold calculation.

  Sebastian’s guts tightened in horror. Every last one of these men would die if they dared…

  There was only one reason to venture outside and this was to escape the crowd inside. Ivy had no particular interest in escaping. In vain, she attempted to pull free from Veronica’s tight grip.

  “Why’dchu hold myarm?” Her words slurred. “You don’ ‘ven like me…call Poison ‘vee. I know you... ‘eard you!”

  Shocked twitters of laughter rippled through a growing crowd of fascinated spectators. Sebastian grimaced. Blood roared in his veins. The urge to destroy all of them, including Nicholas March, bloody hell, especially Nicholas March, almost overwhelmed him.

  The face of each man staring after Veronica as she dragged the countess away was committed to memory. Only until he turned to slip out the terrace doors did he realized Nicholas was almost upon him.

  Their eyes locked, with neither man moving for a long moment. Then, a slow smile of mockery hovering on his lips, Nick bowed. A dark golden brow lifted, silently daring Sebastian to emerge from the shadowy alcove.

  Sebastian’s hands tightened. Damn it, his teeth hurt from clenching them so hard. He wanted to storm over and knock that insulting grin from Nick’s face. Knowing if he stayed a second longer he would do something regrettable, he abruptly turned his back and stalked away.

  Laughter and loud conversations echoed behind them as Veronica propelled Ivy to the closest set of garden doors. As they drew away from the stimulating confines of the ballroom, Ivy’s pace slowed.

  “Wait,” she moaned, swallowing hard and closing her eyes. “Moving…too fast…I’m going to be sick.”

  “A few more steps, Lady Kinley. You’ll feel so much better on the terrace. The fresh air will do wonders,” Veronica urged before mumbling under her breath, “and a pot of strong French coffee would do even better.”

  They reached the terrace without incident but as the door closed behind them, Ivy stumbled. Momentum carried them along, nearly tumbling both to the stone floor.

  With one arm, Sebastian put Veronica to rights while scooping Ivy up into the curve of the other.

  “I’ve got her,” he growled, the timber of his voice revealing nothing would change that fact. Yes. He had her. And she was not sliding through his fingers ever again.

  Chapter 15

  Sebastian carried the countess to the edge of the terrace. With barely restrained patience he deposited his burden none too gently on a bench in an alcove sheltered from the sharp breeze. Letting out a heavy, inarticulate moan, Ivy leaned against the rough wall as though appreciative for the cold brick pressed against her cheek.

  Veronica twisted her hands at the stony glance Sebastian threw over his shoulder. “You frightened me. How-how much did you see? Or hear?”

  Assured Ivy would remain propped against the wall, he took Veronica by the elbow. She swayed toward him with a quickened breath.

  “Enough to know you saved a few lives tonight, Ronnie.” A slight smile flitted across his lips when her eyes widened. “I had no idea you held the countess in such high esteem. You have my thanks for coming to her aid.”

  Veronica’s gaze flickered to Ivy. Her beautiful shimmering gown shot sparks in the pale moonlight. “I could not stand by while they…” She swallowed her words when the grip on her arm tightened. “Whatever shall we do with her? My plan was to get her out as quickly as possible. I dare not go back through the ballroom.”

  While they watched, Ivy began to slide from the bench in a fluid heap of silk and tangled limbs. In two strides Sebastian was at her side. He jerked her to her feet, one arm snaking about her waist.

  She blinked at him in meek confusion. “Are we there yet?”

  Moving closer, Veronica instinctively reached to steady Ivy when her knees buckled again. Reluctant concern was evident in the lady’s features and seeing it, Sebastian cursed beneath his breath. His arm hooked tighter about Ivy’s waist.

  “I shall take her home and you should depart as well,” he instructed. “Take care no one sees you- use the north gate to the gardens. I will leave through the south.”

  “You are quite obsessed with her.” Veronica subjected him to a shrewd consideration. “I’m not sure you are even aware of how much.”

  Sebastian scowled at her observation. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ronnie. Those men do not give a farthing if she is willing or not. In fact, they prefer the later and you know that is the truth. I have no desire to see her so brutalized. For what it is worth, I’m sure Ivy will be grateful for your assistance.”

  “Oh? I may benefit from this impulsive act of kindness? How intriguing.” Veronica’s gaze darted to the terrace doors. “But a discussion for a later time, as someone may come searching for us at any moment.”

  Which would be a complete disaster. Sebastian was hungry for blood…anyone’s would do. It was a test of his restraint that he did not storm into the ballroom, to beat those jackals to hell and back. Did he dare contemplate it?

  “Get your damned hands off me.”

  The precisely enunciated words were barely audible, but Veronica’s eyes widened at the hatred they contained.

  “You…you vile, heartless bastard. Let go… let go. Let me go.”

  Ivy squirmed, swaying with an unsteady grace. When Sebastian tightened his hold, it was as if an icy bucket of sobriety doused her. Striking out with relentless ferocity, she pummeled his chest, kicking his shins when she could get her feet untangled from themselves. Even dampened by the debilitating effects of alcohol, she fought like an off-kilter whirlwind as a torrent of curse words poured from her lips. Were he not so angry, Sebastian might have been amused. Where had she learned to swear with such brilliant fluency? No doubt Clayton and his fellow reprobates. He scooped her off her feet, turning her so she was pinned against his chest and the blows could no longer strike his face.

  “Be still!” His breath hissed in her ear and unable to stomach the swift change in body position, Ivy capitulated at once with a nauseated moan.

  Veronica could not conceal her horrified fascination. This fierceness between the earl and Ivy, the possessive glitter in his eyes, it was a recipe for disaster. Jealous, furious men did things usually regretted much later when tempers cooled. And Sebastian was livid, his patience having snapped at last. “Seb,” she ventured quietly, “perhaps I should see her home after all…”

  “No.”

  “For her own safety…”

  The glare Sebastian threw Veronica was nothing less than violent. Before she could manage an apology, he was gone in a swirl of black, Ivy's glowing silver gown melting into the ebony darkness of the garden as he carried her away.

  Left alone in the cool spring air, Lady Wesley hugged herself. She could not help but compare the countess to a fairy queen in a tragic fable, an innocent stolen by a devil from the starless side of moonlight.

  Sebastian’s intention was to take Ivy straight away to Kinley House. At least at first. Inside the confines of his coach, she rallied in drunken protest, cursing and kicking until he pinned her against the leather seat with the weight of his own body. Although it calmed her, the sudden lethargy was more an overabundance of champagne than any comfort found in his arms. With a rap to the coach’s roof, Sebastian instructed Bowden to continue to Ravenswood Court. Silence soon filled the interior of the vehicle. Ivy’s mumbled curses died away as exhaustion overtook her.

  In the dark solitude of the ride, cradling her against him, Sebastian did not dare examine the reasons for his actions. Veronica was right. He courted disaster. Ivy was in jeopardy with him. It would be so easy to slip inside her rooms, to leave her untouched and tucked under the covers of her own bed. No one would ever know he ventured inside the walls of Kinley House. This was madness. What he felt for her was madness. When it came to her, it was impossible to follow the path of reason.

  In the end, he quite simply coul
d not force himself to let her go.

  Sebastian unrolled the coach blanket, roughly depositing Ivy onto his bed. Against the darkness of her hair and the dark blue coverlet, white roses glowed with the brilliance of snowflakes, clinging with determination to the silky strands of her coiffure. One red rose lay entangled in a gleaming lock of hair. It coiled low over her heart, bright as an accusing splotch of blood.

  What the hell was he doing?

  Sebastian tossed his evening coat away before disposing of his shirt and silk cravat. He poured a stiff tumbler of brandy.

  Too late for second thoughts. Now. What to do about her.

  Chapter 16

  Ivy braced the upper half of her body upright on stiff arms. Her hair was a disaster, crushed roses and curls streaming in a waterfall over her shoulders. A lamp on a table beside the bed, along with a low fire in the massive fireplace, provided barely enough light to illuminate the room.

  The heavy masculinity of the space was confusing, although the silver and midnight blue colors of the bed clothing and drapes seemed familiar in their pairing. Where am I?

  Her gaze landed on him. Sucking in a breath of absolute horror, a dazed consciousness slammed through the fuzziness enveloping Ivy. Sebastian stood by the fireplace, half-undressed. His chest was bare, the broad expanse of muscles stacked like molten iron.

  “What have you done?” Sloppy with panic and champagne, her words slurred together. “Have you gone mad?”

  “Most certainly.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile as he sipped from the glass he held.

  The slabs of his abdomen rippled with his movements, gleaming gold in the light of the fire. Although she shouldn’t, Ivy stared as if hypnotized.

  She forced herself to stand then just as quickly sank back down. The room actually tilted side to side, a rudderless schooner in a hurricane. At its far end Sebastian was a lost cork in an endless ocean, bobbing with relentless energy. Watching him was both fascinating and nausea inducing.

  A bedpost would provide a sturdy anchor. Moving carefully, Ivy scooted to the end of the bed to wrap her arms around one of the massive supports.

  “You monster. I d-demand you return me to the Faringdon’s ball at once. You’ve no right to bring me here…no right!” To her ears, the words jumbled together in an incoherent mess. Leaning her forehead against the cool wood of the post, she squeezed her eyes tight, determined to regain control by sheer willpower alone.

  When she dared to reopen them, everything seemed to have changed course. The room now spun in slow, ever narrowing circles and in the middle of these spinning circles, she sat. A target.

  Sebastian did not move. Leaning a shoulder against the corner of the mantle, the glow from the flames illuminated only half his face. Shadows danced across his cheekbones and lips and he…he...Ivy swallowed hard, nearly moaning aloud. God help her, he was as dangerously dark and exquisitely handsome as ever.

  Seeing him was more devastating than she imagined it would be, her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, the splinters painful and stabbing every raw nerve. Bloody hell, she could not tear her eyes away from him. Because he looked thinner, his features a tiny bit haggard. Was it just the dark stubble of a beard making it seem so? Grazing his chin, shadowing his cheeks, giving him the air of a pirate. She hated that his dusky eyes gave no inkling as to his thoughts.

  “Do you know what those bastards planned for you tonight, sweetness?” His brow arched high. “Do you? You would not have enjoyed it. And were you fortunate, you would not have remembered it. I’ve seen the damage done to their playthings before. They do not play nice at all. They would have torn you apart. Although with Lady Wesley to rein them in, they might have shown restraint, just to have their fun again in the future.” Jealousy colored his words, turning them ugly and hurtful.

  Ivy’s tongue was thick in her mouth. “I’ve no idea what you are talking about.” Licking her lips, she wished for something, anything to drink.

  When he stalked toward her, she shrank back, but he only handed her a tumbler then resumed his stance by the fireplace. The distance appeared necessary as his hands clenched into fists.

  “My dear, they could hardly resist your charms.” The words slapped her - a cold, hard drawl. “You were making it so damnably easy for them. Hell, each one of those jackals would have cocked up between your lovely legs tonight.” His gaze was contemplative and cruel. “Or, maybe you hoped Landon would claim you. He wanted to. He tried to. He had you in his hands for a moment. Did you like him touching you? Have you a taste for dukes now? He’s soon to come into his title. God knows he suffered no qualms in the past when stealing what is mine. Tell me, Ivy. Would you have let him fuck you?”

  Befuddled by his calm demeanor, Ivy swallowed every drop in the glass he gave her.

  The brandy scorched its way down her throat until her eyes watered. Then she choked and sputtered, the horrible ugliness of his words sinking in. Sebastian believed she wanted another man? After what he had done? Disgust washed through her, thick, hot, heavy. Without thinking of the consequences Ivy hurled the tumbler at him.

  Ducking the hopeless aim, his brutal laughter rang out as the crystal crashed behind his head. Shards of glass tinkled musically to the floor in a harmless waterfall.

  Fueled by something so black and searing it was unrecognizable, Ivy lurched from the bed. In a clumsy attack, she swung fists at his cruel grin, but Sebastian captured her wrists with one large hand, holding them with appalling ease in the small of her back.

  “You bastard,” she gasped. “You’ve no right to question me. You do not own me and you never will. I will bed every single one of them if I wish! Every single one! It’s what’s expected of me, isn’t it? A woman like me?”

  Sebastian’s eyes turned darker than the night around them as she flung his words at him. His gaze pinned her, drinking her in. Like early moonlight frost, the gown swirled, illuminating Ivy’s features. “Shut up, damn you.” He gave her a rough shake. “You think my hunger for you is satisfied? That my desire is quenched? Far from it, little hellion and I’ll be damned if another tries to take what is mine.”

  “I’m not yours!” Ivy cried out. “I’m not! I don’t belong to anyone! I-I hate you.” Her struggles were already fading as brandy coursed through sluggish veins to blend with champagne. Waves of dizziness rose and fell. She could not allow him to be stronger than her now. Please, not now. “I hate you!”

  “No, you only wish you did. And it wouldn't matter anyway. I can't keep myself from you and you can't keep yourself from me,” he snarled. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling until Ivy had no choice but to look into his eyes. A white rose crumpled in his fist, crushed petals falling to the floor. “How many of them have you slept with, Ivy? And who? Tell me. Now.”

  “I cannot count the number.” Let him decipher the meaning of that, if he could. If he dared.

  “Who was it?” The question was a roar. “If one of those bastards hurt you…”

  “Not a single one took me by force,” Ivy sneered. “That distinction is yours alone. The only man to go so far. The only one who had to.”

  Pinpoints of unholy fire flared in Sebastian’s eyes as he realized she twisted what had happened between them and molded it the situation now.

  “Goddamn it,” he breathed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Countess.”

  Were it not for the tight grip he held on her hair, Ivy would have tossed her head, beyond caring for her safety. “A game I am winning. Shall we place it on the books? We will lay our wagers and I’ll have you mucking a hundred stalls when it’s all over…”

  Sebastian gave a strangled curse, a muscle ticking in his jaw as her taunt hit home. Lust and anger drove him now, all traces of civility melting away.

  Hooking his fingers into the top tier of the diamond necklace, Sebastian used it to jerk her closer until their faces were mere inches apart, the scent of crushed roses swirling between them. Where his knuckles rested flush with the
hollow of her throat, Ivy’s pulse beat with frantic thumps. He controlled her as a master would an unruly pet. “Careful, love. I am a very poor loser.”

  “You told me once you rarely lose anything,” she retorted just before her teeth sank into his bare shoulder.

  He flung her off with a grunt of surprised pain. Ivy staggered away. With the newfound freedom, she slipped off her shoes, using them as weapons to hurl at his head. While not quick enough to outpace him in such an inebriated state, she nevertheless turned toward the bedroom door.

  Dodging the missiles, Sebastian caught her about the waist. He flung her with unceremonious disregard onto the bed, pinning her to the mattress before she could bounce up. One of his hands anchored hers high above her head while she bucked like a wild mare to dislodge the crushing weight of his body.

  “Bloodthirsty little bitch.” His eyes blazed with silver fire. “Holy hell, I will tame you…I will get my fill of you. If it kills me, if it is the last goddamn thing I do…”

  A stream of colorful oaths poured from Ivy in response. When Sebastian abruptly rolled half off her, she stared in open-mouth surprise, silenced by the success of her efforts.

  The relief was short-lived. His hand snaked between them to disengage the concealed hooks in the bodice of her gown. Ivy flailed and cursed but the bodice parted into two halves. In a matter of seconds only the grace of the corset covered her.

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in appreciation. Her breasts swelled to the top of the undergarment; the exquisite lace and ivy trimmings quivering with her anger and gulps for air, the diamond necklace glittering like drops of ice on her warm skin. With an impatient movement and a quick twisting of her arms, the entire gown was swept away. Ivy cried out in horrified distress, left only in stockings and roses, diamonds and that damned corset which would have given a monk plenty of reasons to question celibacy.