Chapter 2

Two

J asper Knoll, the fifth Marquess of Crawford, had gone to a great deal of trouble to see Lady Kendal. After spending months with memories of her racing through his mind, he'd donated a king's ransom to the Duchesses charity house.

More over, he'd done so in person, and to his surprise, the Duchess had thanked him with an invitation to her house party.

He had thought that seeing Lady Kendal—blast it, seeing Celia again—would free him of his longing for her. Jasper had been intimate with enough women to know that the second kiss was never as exhilarating as the first.

And yet, the second time he kissed her, more than passion stirred.

His very soul took notice. His heart. His entire mind and body.

It was for that reason he took her mouth a third time. As he held her close, their hearts beating in perfect rhythm while their mouths worked together, he knew he had to have her. All of her—forever.

With great reluctance, Jasper broke their kiss, but he could not bring himself to release his hold on her. He did not wish to. This was more than infatuation. More than mere lust. What he felt for her… It was more than he believed possible.

She stared up at him, her blue eyes smoky and cheeks flushed with passion.

"Marry me," he demanded.

"What?" Confusion clouded her gaze.

He brought his face closer to hers and inhaled her scent of jasmine and vanilla. "I asked you to marry me."

She laughed, an awkward and confused cacophony.

"I am quite serious, Celia. Lady Kendal." He pulled her closer, bringing her body flush against his. "Become my marchioness."

"You have gone quite mad," she said, then stepped from his embrace. "This…" She shook her head. "Whatever is between us…." She averted her gaze. "You are mad."

"Mad with the need to have you at my side." He reached for her, but she dodged his attempt. "Celia, I am completely insane with the need to have you. To hold and keep you. I want to possess you, to feel your skin against mine and hear your sighs and moans filling my bed-chamber. But that is not the half of it. I want to protect and spoil you. To see you across the dining table and dance with you at balls. I want to raise children with you and grow old beside you."

She placed her hand on his forehead. "Are you ill?" Her brow knit in worry.

"I assure you I am not unwell."

"Then you must be foxed," she retorted. "You scarcely know me and you are proposing marriage. And after?—"

He cut off her tirade, asking, "Did you taste whiskey in my kiss?"

Her cheeks turned the most becoming shade of scarlet at his question, and Jasper could scarcely stop himself from pulling her back into his arms. Somehow, he controlled himself, but only because he did not want to frighten her. He realized his declarations had come too fast.

"I daresay I do not believe your declarations and have no intentions of playing whatever game you are about." She turned up her pert little nose and pressed her lips together.

"I am not ill, neither am I in my cups. What I am is enamored with you, Lady Kendal. This is no game, and I intend to prove it. I will not stop pursuing you until you marry me. Hell, even then I will not stop. I will woo you until the day I die."

She blew out a frustrated breath. "I am returning to the drawing-room. I suggest you take your leave before the rain moves in." She pivoted, then disappeared into the hallway.

Jasper could not help but find encouragement in the challenge that laced through her tone and the glint in her eyes. She acted perturbed, but he could see through her facade.

She wanted him to pursue her, and he would not disappoint. ‘A lady needs more than one night of passion. They long for a lifetime.' Her words came back to him on a memory. He had treated her badly then, and now he meant to make up for it. Jasper would give her what she desired. He'd win her heart and take her to wife before the new year dawned.

Stepping around the piano, he moved to the sideboard, then poured two fingers of brandy. It would be a fine way to pass ten minutes before returning to the drawing-room.

Besides, her kisses had him quite undone. He was not at all fit for society in his present state. A bit of time to get his emotions under control would serve him well.

Sipping from the brandy, Jasper leaned against the sideboard and considered his next move. Perhaps he should launch his own game of hard to get. Ignore her until she came running to him.

He swirled the liquor in his glass as he dismissed the idea. She was impossible to ignore. Trying to do so would prove a fool's errand. Besides, she was as stubborn as a mule and as feisty as a hornet trapped in a bonnet. No matter how badly she wanted to come to him, she would resist.

Because he had given her every reason to doubt him.

He had to show her he was serious and that she could trust him. And he needed her cooperation to do so. Celia had to be wooed and charmed. He would need to build on their previous connection and prove that he wanted more than her body. He had to become her friend. They had started off on a poorly six months prior but quickly plunged into a camaraderie before he went and ruined what was transpiring between them.

They could do so again. He could regain her respect and so much more along the way.

With his path chosen, Jasper finished his drink, then strode toward the drawing-room. Song greeted him as he drew nearer. A single female voice—Celia's. He stepped into the room, his gaze finding hers.

"O weep not, sweet maid, nor let sorrow oppress thee,…." Her eyes sparkled as she sang the haunting words, her breasts rising and falling with her breaths while she pressed one hand flat against her trim midsection. She looked like an ethereal seductress, and he was in want of seduction.

Jasper's gaze moved to her plump, bow-shaped lips. They were like ripe berries and tasted even sweeter. He pulled his gaze from her. The woman was driving him to distraction without even trying.

"And angels will pity such beauty in tears…."

As she continued to sing, he moved to the refreshment table and retrieved a glass of punch. He took a long drink, all the while wishing he had his flask. As she finish the performance, he picked up another glass of punch, then strode toward her. "You must be thirsty," he said, offering the glass.

She grinned, accepting the offering. "That was thoughtful," she said before taking a slow drink of the sweet punch. She swallowed, then lowered the glass, an impish grin curving her lips. "May I ask why you are still here?"

He chuckled, the heaviness in his heart dissipating at the way her lush lips curved and eyes sparkled. "You are smiling because you are glad I have not gone."

"I daresay you see right through me. Still, I must point out that nothing will come of your remaining." She took another sip of the punch he'd given her. "I am a lady."

"In my experience, ladies often take husbands." He smoothed his cravat as he held her gaze. "You told me you intend to marry."

"Yes, but you are not the marrying type." She shook her head, the blond curls piled atop her head bounced with the movement. "You said as much when we last met."

"I was a fool," he said. Jasper stepped closer and offered his arm. "And I intend to prove it to you."

She accepted his offer, her hand resting on his elbow. "Now that sounds promising. Tell me what exactly you intend to do?"

"I am going to court you," he said matter-of-factly, "then I am going to marry you."

Celia shook her head. "You jest." She laughed.

"Not in the least, Lady Kendal." He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm, then met her gaze. "Welcome me to stay and allow me to court you."

Her steps faltered. "If I agree, will you promise to keep our past meeting a secret?"

He stilled so she could gain her balance. "You little hypocrite, you want me here? You are just afraid of being found out." His grin broadening at the chagrin in her expression. "I would never invite scandal on my future wife."

"Then you have leave to stay." Her eyes lightened as she flipped her fan open and brought it up to shade her face. "And you may court me with kisses."

"Minx," he said in playful reprimand.