laughing breath touching her brow as he chucked her playfully under the chin. ‘Your endearments intrigue me, but I did not fight with every measure of skill and wit at my command to preserve my life as well as my company of men on the battlefields of Spain and Waterloo, to have it taken away in peacetime by a mere slip of a girl.’
‘The slip of a girl you speak of I left behind in America, my lord.’
‘My eyes confirm what you say, Belle,’ he murmured, his eyes probing with flaming warmth into hers. ‘You are what any man would desire—softly rounded in all the right places, yet slender and long of limb. You have whet my imagination to such a degree that my pleasure would be to throw you back on to the bed and make love to you.’
She stepped back. Behind the pattern of her beautiful face, she was outraged. The red blushes on her cheeks had settled into a dark glow, the flush of sudden battle in her face. Her retreat was necessary to cool her burning cheeks, and to ease to some degree the unruly pacing of her heart. ‘Stop it. You should not be saying such things.’
‘Come now, Belle, believe me, after surrendering your virginity you will be amazed at the pleasures to be found in the arms of a lover.’
‘Lover? Ha!’ she scoffed. ‘The man I surrender my virtue to will be my husband. It is not something I shall give away in the weakness of a moment in the bed of the vilest of rakes.’
Lance did not seem surprised or insulted. Undaunted, he lifted his brows quizzically, a twist of humour about his beautifully moulded lips. But never had he looked more challenging. ‘This is indeed a crushing moment, Belle! I have been called some names in my life, but I must confess never to have been called—the vilest of rakes.’
Belle saw him struggling to hold back his deep amusement. Then, to her rising dismay, he threw back his head, letting out rich, infectious laughter. ‘This has really made my day—”the vilest of rakes”.’
‘You are insufferable,’ Belle cried angrily, her rage pouring out. ‘Let me out of this room this instant.’
‘You needn’t be distressed by what has just happened between us,’ he said, no longer laughing, but still quietly amused. ‘Making love can be just as pleasurable for a woman as for a man. Are you so fearful of losing your virtue, Belle?’
She thrust her face forwards to deliver her own angry rejoinder. ‘With you? Yes!’ she answered with a finality that brooked no discussion. ‘I will not allow myself to be sullied and then tossed aside by you, leaving me little hope of attracting a respectable husband. Rumours have a way of shattering lives, my lord. No man wants spoiled goods.’
Lance offered her a cajoling smile, appealing to her with all the charm he was capable of putting into play. He had not got to where he was in life without becoming aware that many women he had known had been intrigued and captivated by the smile on his lips.
‘I’ll have you know that right now you’re presenting a definite challenge to me,’ he accused, amusement gleaming in his eyes. ‘I’ve never before known a woman who seems to loathe me one minute and the next accept my attentions as you did just now on the bed. Can I not persuade you to relent?’
‘You certainly know the right words to entangle a gullible maid’s mind, my lord. But I am not gullible and certainly know the risks I would encounter if I allowed myself to be taken in by the likes of you. What woman would willingly invite such disgrace?’
Cocking a magnificent brow enquiringly, Lance peered down his noble nose at her. ‘Not all women who know me would consider it a disgrace.’
‘Just how many women have you addled with comments of that sort, my lord?’ Belle asked snidely. ‘If any of them believe you then they must be simple minded. You can say what you like, but any lady would be upset to be involved in a conversation such as this. It is hardly a topic to soothe one’s nerves.’
His eyes danced as he probed the bright green orbs. ‘I’ll allow the subject itself wouldn’t soothe your nerves, Belle, but the joining of our bodies in the ritual of making love would do wonders for relaxing you. I’d be more than willing to show you.’
‘I’m sure you would, but I’m not going to give you the chance. Now please stop it. You are far too persistent for my peace of mind.’
‘When I see something I want, I go for it.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It’s in my nature. At least the men under my command thought so.’
‘I’m not one of your men,’ she retorted, and had cause to wonder what would follow as his eyes gleamed tauntingly into hers.
‘Believe me, my lovely Belle, looking as you do, I would never mistake you for one of them—not even for an instant. None of my men ever looked even remotely appealing to me.’ Lance chuckled softly. Devilment shone in his blue eyes as he placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face to his. ‘Don’t be alarmed. Relax. I’m not going to kiss you again. At least not yet.’
Suddenly Belle found herself trying to gather the shattered pieces of her aplomb. His persuasive voice seemed to bombard her very being.
‘Just be thankful I’ve decided to let you leave.’
She met his warmly alluring eyes with a cool stare as she warned him crisply, ‘I should jolly well hope so. If you lay one hand upon me, my lord, I’ll scream the house down. That much I promise you.’
‘In which case, I shall comply with your wishes. Your presence in my bedchamber would take some explaining to my guests.’
Belle now had cause to regret her impulsive decision to come to his house. It was the kind of bad behaviour she had indulged in when she was a child—too hasty to jump in, too stubborn to draw back before it was too late, and suffering regret afterwards. There was more than just regret this time, however, much more.
She flung her head backwards so that more of her hair was loosed from its pins, coiling down her spine, so gloriously a shade of rich brown, now as dark as night. Her chin jutted dangerously and her eyes flashed.
‘How noble of you,’ she uttered sarcastically. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you will never lay hands on me again.’
Her lips curled back over her teeth in a snarl, and Lance thought she was like an animal on the defensive. Dear God, she was a magnificent creature, but heaven help the poor devil who got landed with her as a wife. He liked his women quicktempered, spirited and with fire in their veins. It made for a satisfying and exciting relationship, but Belle Ainsley with her bull-headed stubbornness would not only need a husband as strong-willed as herself, but with the patience of a saint.
‘As to that, Belle, I shall make no promises. Who knows what will come from our association? I will tell you now that I consider my independence of great importance. I am not necessarily anxious to give it up immediately now I have returned home, but I may just decide to forget the promise I made to myself to remain a bachelor and take you to wife just to show you what delights can be had between a married couple.’
Belle glowered at him and spoke with derision. ‘What subtle ploys you practise, Lord Bingham. If you think to get me into your bed with your liberal use of the word marriage, you will find I am not as gullible as you think.’
Lance laughed outright. ‘I get the message, Belle, so continue with your parties and concentrate on finding a husband—which is what the Season is all about. I’ve seen the many smitten swains
