Page 64 of As the Devil Dares

“I was wrong to think that and an arse to say it,” he admitted with chagrin. Shifting as close as propriety allowed, he felt her soften at his apology. “It’s the other men who can’t tolerate the heat of you, who aren’t up to the challenge. Who aren’t man enough to handle a woman like you.” He paused, then admitted hoarsely, “You know the effect you have on me. I can’t think straight when you’re near.”

She caught her breath in surprise, but he couldn’t deny it. She drove him out of his right mind, until he didn’t know what to think or say. For God’s sake, he wanted nothing more whenever he was alone with her than to fall into a verbal sparring match, then pull her into his arms and kiss over every inch of her. And to his utter bewilderment, she was the only woman he’d ever met who gave him hope that he, too, could eventually overcome the death of a parent.

Even now he was unable to keep from touching her and dared to caress his hand against the small of her back. “I crave your fire, Mariah.”

She swallowed. Sudden nervousness spread over her and mixed with the alluring vulnerability that drew him so strongly. Yet she managed to reply acerbically, “And risk a second dousing?”

“For a taste of you?” he drawled rakishly, his gaze falling longingly to her ripe mouth. “Absolutely.”

She inhaled a ragged breath. For one unguarded heartbeat, a look of longing sparked in the green depths of her eyes, and her pulse raced in the hollow at the base of her neck. In that fleeting moment he also saw a flash of the same brashness that had led her to push her behavior to the edge of propriety, the same passion that had made her return the boldness of his kisses—it was a look of pure temptation.

But in a single breath it vanished, and her damnable pride rose once more to the surface.

She slipped her arm away from his hold and handed him her half-empty glass of champagne. The gesture was one of dismissal, but the way that her fingers shook told him that their brief conversation had affected her. “Then you’ll be very disappointed to discover that you can’t have what you want, either.”

She turned on her heel and without a backward glance walked through the open French doors and out into the dark night.

His eyes narrowed to slits as he stared after her, long after her slender form had vanished into the shadows of the garden. Damn her. For her to think that she could prick at him so freely, that she could make his heart pound and his blood boil with both desire and fury, then simply walk away—

Not this time.

He tossed back the rest of the champagne and stalked after her.

* * *

Mariah ducked beneath an overgrown willow tree in the far corner of the garden, the dark shadows and the tree’s thick branches that bent to the ground hiding her from view.

Grateful to be alone, she leaned against the trunk and sucked in a deep breath of air so cold that it tingled in her lungs. Thankfully, the garden was empty, with no one there to witness her confusion and frustration. Only a handful of couples were outside, and they remained on the terrace and close to the house. She thought she’d spied Evie standing among them with Burton Williams, but she couldn’t stop to make certain. Not when she’d so desperately needed to flee before she screamed.

Oh, what a rake Robert was! To say those things to her, to gaze at her in that heated way—he made her long for all kinds of things she could never have. Not least of all him. Because it would have been so very easy to capitulate to the desire she saw in those blue eyes, to his charm and intelligence, to the love and fierce loyalty he held for his family…to the thoughtfulness in sending a doll to a little girl.

She groaned in frustration. Blast him for confusing her so much! And the devil take him for making her want to kiss him, to let him touch her and make her feel special. She wanted to laugh with him and see the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And God help her, she wanted to simply spend time in the man’s company, doing anything besides arguing.

But while she might have wanted him, he wanted Winslow Shipping. And it was time she accepted, once and for all, that the two would never mix.

“Mariah.”

She startled, her racing heart leaping into her throat. Through the black shadows of the winter-barren branches, a shadowy form was silhouetted against the midnight sky, dark yet unmistakable…

“Robert,” she whispered.

He slipped slowly beneath the branches to join her in the secret bower. The space immediately became much smaller and far more intimate, and her heart began to race for a very different reason.

“You followed me,” she accused softly, but even that whisper seemed thunderous in the silent stillness of the wintry garden.

He arched a brow in challenge. “I had no choice. You left.”

“I told you.” She shivered, more from his nearness than the cold. “I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Too bad.” His blue eyes shined impossibly bright in the darkness as he slowly moved closer, one stalking step at a time. His voice lowered to a deep purr as his gaze raked down the front of her, but she didn’t turn away, because a dark and wanton part of her thrilled when he stared at her like that. As if she were a sugary treat he wanted to devour. “Because I very much want to dance with you.”

The innuendo shivered through her as he stopped in front of her. She prayed he couldn’t see in the shadows the same heated desire on her own face that she heard in his voice.

“You can’t charm your way into the partnership.” Or into my heart. Although she suspected that the frustrating man was already there. When he shifted closer, as if taking her words as a challenge instead of an indictment, she warned breathlessly, “I won’t let you.”

“I wouldn’t dare try.” He stood so close now that the heat of his body warmed down her front and made her tremble. “Not with a woman as formidable as you.”

With his eyes not leaving hers, he shrugged out of his jacket.