Page 111 of Wicked Designs
“Emily…I love you.”
Emily shut her eyes, wishing they could live forever in the past. Losing him now, even though he was never hers, might yet rip the life from her body.
“You think you love me, but you don’t. I don’t want to live my life under that illusion.”
Her words sparked his temper. “My love for you is not an illusion!” His jade eyes flared and the darker side of Godric reared its head.
Emily backed away. Her pulse raced. “I think we should discuss this later, when you aren’t so upset.”
“Upset? What possible reason could I have for being upset?” Godric’s voice rose sharply. “The woman I love doesn’t believe me and won’t marry me!”
Emily winced, hoping the others wouldn’t hear him shout.
“Hear me, Emily. You will be my wife, or you will be someone else’s, but you will be married. Cedric and Ashton have both offered to wed you. Is that what you want?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her up against the length of him.
Emily’s breath caught in her throat, his face was mere inches from hers.
“You speak as though I’m chattel to be traded about. I won’t marry them either. Do you understand?” She tried to pull away from him. As much as she loved him, longed to say yes to him, her heart wouldn’t allow it. She might have survived the rest of her life as his lover but not his wife. But she couldn’t put him in a position where someday he’d betray their vows or worse, come to an “understanding” as many of the men of his standing did.
Godric captured her chin, forcing her face back towards his and growled low in his throat. “Emily, I have no patience for this—”
She stomped her foot on his boot. “I have no patience for you!”
“I swore to never let you go, and I won’t. You belong with me.” Godric fisted a hand in her hair, and slanted his mouth down over hers. She fisted her hands against his chest.
“And when you tire of me? When you desire someone else? I will be chained to our cold, empty, marriage bed. Will you punish me then? Will you rip my inheritance from my hands and dispense with it?” Sheknew she’d gone too far. Godric’s eyes glittered with rage, with pain, and a dangerous lust she’d seen only once before.
He slammed his lips down over hers. His kiss was bruising, fiery, hungry and punishing. Its ferocity made Emily buckle and collapse in his embrace. He wound an arm around her waist as he assaulted her senses; his lips stole her breath and robbed her of her sanity. It was just the way every kiss should be, full of fire and light, splintering one’s soul and merging the pieces with another’s until theirs beat as one, mighty heart.
When he finally released her, she staggered back a step, and he reached to steady her.
“No! Don’t touch me. I can’t think when you do.” Emily tore away from him, running towards the door. She collided with Charles, who had been loitering outside, along with Jonathan and Cedric.
Charles caught Emily’s wrists, holding her still despite her frantic struggles. “Everything all right?”
Godric appeared in the doorway. “No, it isn’t! Take her upstairs and lock her in a room. She needs time to calm down.”
“Me?” Emily shouted back. “You are the one who—”
“Charles, get her upstairs now!”
A crowd gathered as the others vacated the parlor and came out into the hall.
Charles took hold of Emily. She fought back, not caring whether she made a spectacle of herself. Charles huffed in irritation, and then dipped down, and hauled her up over his shoulder. “This seems familiar,” he said.
Emily curled her fingers into fists and struck him onthe back, but his muscled back seemed impervious to her blows. “Put me down at once. I’ve had enough of this!”
Horatia stepped forward. “Really, Charles! Put her down this instant! I will not have my guests treated in such a fashion!”
“Sorry, I have my orders,” Charles said, curt but not unkind, and headed up the stairs with Cedric and Jonathan following behind.
Horatia scowled and started to chase after them, but an iron hand closed around her wrist, dragging her back from the stairs.
It was Lucien.
“Don’t interfere, Horatia. You’ve done enough of that already.” His warning carried an undercurrent of the past, a reminder that she had often interfered where she shouldn’t.
Godric growled and stomped down the hall to another room, where he slammed the door shut. He stumbled back out a moment later, a broom toppling to the floor behind him.
