Page 99 of One Night with a Prince
He lunged forward and caught her around the waist again. “And I’m interested in beginning one with you.”
She shoved against his chest, not only to force him away but in hopes of finding where he’d stuck her fan. “But I’m not interested in beginning one with you.”
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“You will be. As soon as I show you I can be an even better lover than Byrne.”
He lowered his mouth to hers. Blast, he gave her no choice. She reached down and grabbed his ballocks, squeezing them more tightly than she’d squeezed Gavin’s that first time. No one could say she didn’t learn from her mistakes. It must have been the right amount of pressure, for he jerked back, his eyes popping wide. “What the devil—”
“Let go of me, sir,” she commanded.
“You little bitch—”
She squeezed until his curse turned to a squeak, and he released her waist. Then she backed toward the door, dragging him by the ballocks the whole way. “You just couldn’t listen, could you?” she snapped.
“When a lady says no, she means no. Perhaps next time you’ll remember that.”
The veins stood out on his face, and his jaw was taut enough to bounce a penny off of. “Y-Yes,” he choked out. “Just…let go.”
When she reached the door, she felt inside his coat with her free hand until she’d retrieved her fan and the key. Then she unlocked the door and opened it. “Thank you for the enlightening discussion, Lord Stokely.” Then she gave an extra squeeze and released him, leaving him doubled over and groaning while she rushed out the door and locked him inside.
Pocketing the key and her fan, she hurried out of the house with her heart racing. That had been much too near for comfort. She had to get as far away from the scoundrel as possible, before he came after her.
At least it would take a few minutes for him to make himself heard—once he recovered—and another few minutes for the servants to find the key and let him out. She headed to the gardens. She had to find Gavin. There was no point to their searching anymore—Lord Stokely had made that painfully clear. So they had to strike some bargain with him. But only Gavin had the wherewithal to deal with the man. Somehow she must convince him to give up his plans for vengeance and help her. She simply must make him listen!
Voices came from the gazebo in the far corner, so she headed there. But as she approached near enough to recognize the voices, she hesitated. Lord Stokely hadn’t lied—Gavinwas with Lady Kingsley. Something kept her from bursting right in on them. Heart pounding, she edged around the gazebo until she found one of the fanciful shuttered windows, still closed from the night before. She eased the shutter open enough to look inside, though she felt like a fool for eavesdropping. But how could she not? Lady Kingsley had been the love of his life.
“Enough, Anna,” Gavin was saying. “You’ve babbled on now for ten minutes about why you listened to your parents years ago. I keep telling you, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I’ve forgotten it—you should, too. And if you dragged me out here just to beg my forgiveness or some such nonsense—”
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“Forgiveness! No, it’s not forgiveness I want from you.”
Christabel peered around the edge until she could see them both in profile. Once again, she was struck by how hauntingly beautiful Lady Kingsley was. A lump settled in her throat. No wonder Gavin had loved her.
“Then what?” he snapped. “I have to return to the house.”
“For what?” Lady Kingsley countered. “That hoyden you call a mistress? I hear she’s not even sharing your bed these days.”
He stiffened. “Who told you that?”
“Lord Stokely, of course. He heard it from his servants.”
“Ah.” He arched one eyebrow. “You and Stokely seem rather…cozy now that your husband is in town.”
“Are you jealous?” she said hopefully.
“Afraid not, my sweet. Those days are long past.”
At his words, the tightness around Christabel’s heart eased some. But they brought a frown to Lady Kingsley’s delicate brow. “You needn’t worry about me and Lord Stokely. He’s not my sort. And she’s not yours. Surely you see that. You need a woman with finesse, sophistication, a woman like—”
“You?” he said dryly. “Thank you, but I’ve had my fill of women like that.”
“Oh, Gavin.” Her aching whisper set Christabel’s teeth on edge. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I should never have listened to my family.”
“But you did, Anna,” he said, his voice decidedly more gentle. “And you were right to do so. A marriage between us would never have worked. You would have fretted over my constant absences and the enormous amount of time I spent at the club in the early years. You would have chafed at the lack of money—”
“I’m not so shallow as all that,” Lady Kingsley said petulantly. “I would have understood about your financial situation.”
