The Games We Play

She had the invitations made up and in the end she invited a hundred and seventy- five people, which would fill the church almost completely to capacity. All the rooms of the house were prepared to receive company and a week before the wedding guests began arriving.

It seemed like everywhere Isabella went someone wanted another tour of the grounds or wanted to go horseback riding. Thank the Lord that her mother and sister were there to help her with the everyday job of arranging entertainment and meals for the guests.

As the wedding day came closer and closer, Isabella's nerves began giving her more and more trouble. She had butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach every minute of the day. Much of it was in anticipation of Nicholas's return. He would no doubt be furious that she had invited so many people for the wedding, but then, that had been the plan. To get him angry. Maybe angry enough to call off the wedding.

Gavin had been a big help over the week, running to pick up any last minute preparations that were needed. He had also volunteered to see the priest to the estate. He had also been helpful in calming Isabella's fears. Not a substitute for Marcus, who had arrived just the day before, but very helpful anyways.

She finally found a moment alone so she curled up on the window seat in the bay window in her bedroom. It was there that Marcus found her, hiding. She had seen Nicholas's carriage pull up and quietly snuck away from her parents and the guests to hide until he summoned her.

Marcus came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Bella, I've never known you to be afraid of anything, so why are you hiding from your betrothed? He came in the front entrance moments ago, shocked to the toes to find his house invaded with guests. I take it that you weren't supposed to invite anyone to this wedding?"

"I just wanted to get a little revenge. He said that I wasn't to invite you to the wedding. I could have lived without all these other people being here, but he had no right to insist that I not invite my best friend."

"So that's why you've been nervous ever since I got here. Well, Bella, I must say that you're in quite a fix. But I can't help you with this one. It's between you and Montgomery." He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I better go. If I'm not mistaken I believe that he's headed this direction, and I have no desire to be in the line of fire. Good luck."

Just as he left through her private salon, Nicholas stormed in through the bedroom door that led to the hallway. His evergreen eyes flashed dangerously with an inner lightening that was meant for her. She cringed inwardly when he began to advance on her like a menacing panther ready to pounce on its prey.

"H-H-Hello, N-Nicholas," she stuttered inanely as she rose to stand before him, trying to get a grip on herself and stand up to him as she had so many times before.

"I come home to find a house full of guests that were not supposed to be here, roaming through the halls and congratulating me on my impending marriage. I was even told that I made a wonderful choice in a bride and that you were the epitome of goodness, a perfect hostess, making sure that everyone stayed entertained until the wedding. And then when I finally find you, all you can say is 'hello Nicholas'!" he stormed, beginning to pace the room. Agitatedly he ran a hand through his thick golden blond hair. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as if he was trying to make sure he controlled his anger and didn't take it out on her.

He glanced at her, taking in her wide eyes and trembling lips. She was pallid and shaking. Her skin was drawn tight over her prominent cheekbones and she looked like a fragile porcelain doll that would break at the slightest touch. He had come in here ready to do some yelling, but now that he was looking at her, he couldn't see himself doing that. She didn't seem like the Isabella that had defiantly walked away from him after making frantic, passionate love. She didn't seem like the rebellious Isabella who defied him at every turn. There were times that he liked the rebellious Isabella. She had a fire and passion to her that no other woman he had ever met possessed. But right now she just looked vulnerable and upset.

When he started to walk toward her he saw her flinch, as if she expected him to hurt her. Slowly he took her hands and she gazed at him, her eyes reflecting her confusion. He led her to a chair where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

Slowly, without saying a word, his hand caressed her cheek, almost lovingly, before slipping behind her neck, his fingers weaving into her chestnut curls, as if testing its weight.

She didn't know what was going on. Her mind was whirling with confusion. She had expected anger but this. . . this was completely unnerving her.

His other hand came up to cup her other cheek and slowly he brought her face down toward his. Their lips met hesitantly at first, then with growing urgency as intense shocks of pleasure began to radiate through her body, beginning in her lips and shooting all the way to her toes.

Her hands tangled in his hair, trying to pull him closer. He thought he was going to go crazy when she began kissing him back. She was so passionate and natural in her ardor. He hadn't been prepared for the effect she would have on his senses. His hand moved down the front of her dress and he cupped her breast in his palm, chaffing the nipple into a hardened bud of desire.

"Nicholas," she whispered, her voice filled with desire, pressing herself against his palm, wanting more. The pleasure was pouring through her body and she returned his kisses wildly, her hands exploring his broad shoulders and muscled back, then sliding around front to glide over his stomach and chest.

Almost shyly she unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands inside rubbing her palms over his flat nipples, tormenting him as he was her. He stopped kissing her and threw his head back letting the exquisitely pleasurable torture run through him.

Her silky soft lips spread butterfly kisses over his throat, before she climbed off his lap and knelt between his legs. He gazed down at her wondering what she was doing, but all thought flew from his head when her lips closed over his left nipple. She tangled her slender fingers in the golden hair that was dusted across his chest. When she flicked his nipple with her soft pink tongue he thought he would go out of his mind. His body was pulsing with arousal and if she didn't stop soon the marriage would be consummated before the ceremony.

Gently he tilted her chin up and looked into her clear amber eyes. He was startled by the emotions swirling in their depths. He hadn't counted on her becoming so involved in what was happening that her rejection of marriage would be forgotten. He also saw confusion and surprise twirling in the depths of her eyes.

Suddenly she jerked away from his hand and jumped up, turning away from him and wrapping her arms around herself. He could feel the struggle going on inside her. So he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She stood there stiff as a rail for a moment or two, feeling his arousal pressing against her and for a moment the urge to turn around and pick up where he had stopped her was intense. But she didn't give into it and finally she leaned back and relaxed against him. Her thoughts were in a whirl. Ho could she have forgotten her purpose so quickly? She had wanted to anger him, yet when he was angry, she had backed down and become a frightened little mouse cowering in front of the house cat.

Then with just a few caresses she had lost herself in his arms, wanting the pleasure that had racked her body. She knew where things would have gone if he hadn't ended it when he did.

She had kissed him, wanting him with everything inside her, and he had caressed her into forgetfulness and passionate compliance. She had even been so involved that she had taken over ardently, eagerly caressing and kissing him in response.

What had she done? Each time he touched her she had made her weakness apparent. He now knew how to get her to bend to his will. All he would have to do is kiss her and she would give in to him, because she knew that she couldn't withstand him, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Bella," Nicholas crooned hoarsely in her ear. Shivers ran down her body at the feel of his warm breath dusting against her. Goosebumps broke out all over her when he brushed her thick waves of hair aside and placed a kiss at the base of her neck, near her shoulder. "I know that your first instinct is to resist me, but I wish you wouldn't. I want this marriage to work. I want us to be a family in all ways. I think I've been falling in love with you ever since I first met you. Do you remember? It was long before the night I took your innocence at the Attherton's ball. Your laughter, wit, and radiant beauty captivated me from the moment Amelia introduced us." His words were gentle and touched her heart more than she could bear.

She remembered being introduced to him at a dinner party that a mutual friend of theirs had given. He had asked her to dance and the whole night he had occupied her time, teasing her with jokes, whisking her around the dance floor, her only dance partner for the evening, causing the old biddies to gossip about their relationship.

"I know we've said things to anger each other, but I never meant them. You just made me so crazy, turning me inside out with feelings I had never known," he whispered.

A single tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

He wished she would say something, anything to let him know what she was thinking. She had seemed to be as much involved in what had happened as he had been.

Finally, unable to take the silence anymore, he turned her to face him. "Would you say something, Bella? I can't read your mind."

She looked up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. Within a half hour of his arrival home she had come closer to him than she swore she would allow herself to. Pushing her tumultuous feelings to the back of her mind and heart, her eyes became hooded, shielding the emotions that had been swirling through them just moments before. "Really Nicholas, I'm quite fine. I don't know why you would worry so. It's not like what we were doing affected me any more this time than it had the last times we came together." Her heart cracked at the words, but they had to be said. She couldn't get close to him. Not when he was the man who was taking away her freedom. She just wasn't completely sure that her freedom was worth this. She didn't know if it was worth giving up Nicholas' love. But the decision had been made and now it was out of her hands.

His eyes flashed dangerously and a muscle began to tick in his clenched jaw. Anger poured through his body, replacing the arousal that had, moments before, been coursing through him. Her words lashed him, throwing him off balance for a moment, but he vowed that her words wouldn't wound him permanently.

He had told her parents that she was to be used to breed an heir for his title, but he hadn't wanted them to know that he loved her, not when he hadn't told her yet. And now he had told her. He told her that wanted her, all of her, to surrender unconditionally to him. He wanted her passion, her joy, her sorrow, and her pain. He wanted to share his life with her. And with a couple of sentences, she had destroyed those wishes and he had come to a new drastically different conclusion. As soon as he was assured that she was with child he would leave. He owned two Indian palaces and estates throughout England and Scotland. Maybe once he was far enough away he could put her out of his mind, he could forget that he loved her, forget the face that he knew would haunt his dreams for some time.

"Very well, Isabella," he said, drawing himself up, standing rigidly in front of her. "For a moment I thought that we might be able to make our impending marriage work, but I see that I was mistaken. I deluded myself to think that I loved you. That you could love me too. What a fool I was. You must have had a great laugh at my expense. I wonder, how many other men have fallen under the impression that they are in love with you? Were you a proficient tease when you were young, tempting boys into arousal then pulling back and saying no? Tempting them into giving their hearts to you then crushing that heart beneath your foot. I can imagine you like that."

He strode to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. But before he left he turned and faced her, his face expressionless and unreadable. "Since you find me lacking, I will not touch you more than is necessary to produce a child. Once you are with child, I will be leaving this place. You may stay. A staff will be left to see to your comfort. When the child is born, I will return and take him or her with me. They will be raised in my care." Without a backwards glance he walked out, leaving Isabella staring at the door that slammed in her face. Never before in her life had she felt so alone and hurt. But she refused to give into the tears that threatened to flood down her face at any moment. The feelings of guilt and sorrow wouldn't leave her heart, no matter how much she willed them to. Feelings of remorse bubbled through her as she realized that she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life. Nicholas was not a man to make idle threats. Had she just ruined her chance for some sort of happiness?

His words pounded through her brain, bringing pangs of pain to her. "I love you." Three simple words that should have made her deliriously happy, ruined her day. For a while after their second time together she had dreamed of him riding up in his carriage like a white knight and saying those words, taking her from her parents, marrying her and starting a family with her. That dream had faded years ago, but now it was coming true, only she wasn't sure she wanted it anymore. She didn't want a marriage where she would be a wife that was easily dismissed. She wanted to be treated as his equal, vital in the decisions that they made.

She curled up in the chair where Nicholas had been sitting moments before. It was still warm and slightly indented from his presence. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead against her knees, closing her eyes tight, trying to block out the repetitive words that echoed through her head; I love you . . . I love you . . . I love . . . I . . .

On her wedding day Bella was a mass of nerves. Her mother and bridesmaids had been helping her prepare all morning. The time had come for them to take their places, but before they did, Isabella snuck a look at Nicholas. He was standing at the front of the chapel looking as grim as Death and none too happy to be there. Gavin was behind him and he saw Isabella peeking around the corner at the back of the church. He could tell by her expression that she was nervous. As well she should be.

He had spent last night trying to convince Nicholas out of the idea of leaving when Isabella became pregnant, with no luck. He had even tried to broach the subject about taking away the babe, but Nicholas had practically bitten his head off. Nicki then managed to drink enough brandy to cause him to have a massive headache this morning, so he wasn't in the best of moods. Gavin tried to reassure Isabella with a gentle smile but he had a feeling he hadn't done much good. The priest took his place and the music started.

Nicholas stared silently at the women walking down the aisle toward him and taking their place behind where Bella would stand. Finally, she was coming toward him and it was as if a ray of sunshine had burst through the dark windows of the church and illuminated everything in its radiant, heavenly light. She seemed an angel come down to earth just for him. Her hair hung in cascading waves to her waist and she had a halo of white roses set upon her chestnut curls. Her dress scooped low to expose an ample amount of the ivory flesh of her breasts. Breasts that yesterday he had been caressing and tormenting with his knowledgeable fingers.

God he had to stop thinking about that! He hadn't been able to sleep last night because his thoughts had dwelled on her, her body, her attitude, the way she stood up to him like no other woman had. He wasn't looking forward to the wedding night. He knew that bedding her would make it harder when he left. But he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of her body. He had proven that each time he had bedded her before.

She stared at him, looking for some sign that his anger might have cooled, but she saw only contempt in his eyes. She had thought that was what she wanted, for him to be totally indifferent to her, to ignore her unless there was some social affair to attend. But now, seeing him standing there so rigid and expressionless she knew that wasn't at all what she needed.

Mentally she made herself stop thinking like a lovesick young girl. She had always been strong and in the coming months she knew that she would need that strength; when he left and when he would take the babe that she knew she would give him. But now she wondered if even she would have the strength to endure both losses.

The ceremony proceeded, the couple standing a foot apart from each other, not even clasping hands, as was tradition, during the exchange of the vows. It moved fairly quickly, and soon enough the bride and groom were walking back down the aisle, still not touching, and under the rain of rice they headed into the banquet hall to celebrate.

Isabella took her appointed place next to her new husband. Husband, a word she thought she would never call any man. She glanced sideways at him, and watched as he roared with laughter at something that Gavin said to him. He looked so at ease and happy, so unlike he was with her, that her breath hitched in her throat.

He caught her staring at him and she quickly turned away, saying something to her mother. He didn't know what to do with her. She was so confusing to understand. One minute she was responsive and yielding and the next she was scornful and heartless. He had sworn that her words wouldn't wound him, but they had, more than she would ever know. And he would stick to the vow he made and leave when she was with child. He would never let her closer than he had to. He wouldn't risk his heart like he had again.

Malcom Bennet stood to propose a toast to the newly wedded couple. "Daughter, your mother and I had the pleasure, and sometimes pain, of raising you. It was our greatest hope that someday you would marry. For a while that hope was becoming a desolate fantasy, and then Lord Montgomery asked for your hand. We only hope that you can find true happiness in marriage and childbirth with your new husband. Now get up and dance with the Earl, so the rest of us can dance as well."

Isabella looked at Nicholas with apprehension coiling tight like a fist in her stomach. He looked just as uncomfortable about it as she. Slowly he stood and took her hand, helping her rise. Carefully he led her out onto the ballroom floor and took her into his arms. She cautiously avoided looking him in the eye as he twirled her gracefully around the floor, her skirts swishing against the colored marble. Watching them one would have thought that they had been matched for years, perfect their moves that so complemented each other.

"Well, I must say Bella, that you must have had a great amount of practice to move so gracefully. Did you dance with many men while growing up, learning to tease them with the swishing of your skirts against their legs, tantalizing them with the scent of roses on your skin, the feel of your warm breath brushing against their neck as they bent down to whisper something in your ear? Are you a proficient flirt and tease?" he whispered scornfully.