The Games We Play

She quickly swam out of his reach, so that she could look at him without having to strain her neck. "Hello, Nicki," she said trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"I came this morning to ask you to ride with me today. When I arrived I was told that you had gone riding with Marcus."

"You heard me say last night that we were going to be doing just that."

"I did. What I did not expect when I rode out here to join you was to pass Hartford, who told me that my betrothed had undressed in his presence, then proceeded to go for a swim!"

"Damn your big mouth, Marcus!" she cursed furiously under her breath.

"Don't damn Marcus. He only told me after I threatened to call him out if he didn't."

"You didn't?!" she shouted, outraged that he would threaten her best friend.

"Oh, I did. Now get out of that lake. I will not have my future wife conducting herself like a common wench. If you want that I can think of several ways to make that come about. All of them involving us naked in a large bed." He gazed at her, contemplating her. The water lapped at her shoulders, and he knew that if he could coax her out of the water, she might be his for the taking. His shaft stirred at the thought of making love to her on the soft grass of the bank. He pictured her under him, soft and willing, her ivory skin gleaming and her amber eyes glazed with pleasure fulfilled. Or maybe she would let him take her in the water. That would be an experience to remember. "Not an unappealing thought," he muttered softly. Slowly, so as not to draw her attention yet, he unbuttoned his trousers and loosed his shirt from his waistband. Quickly he drew it over his head, exposing his wide, muscled chest. Next he stripped off his riding boots and his pants followed and finally his underclothes were lying beside his feet. He stood like a Greek god in the sun's warming rays of illuminating light.

She had turned away from him still complaining. "You are so crude! How dare you even think that I would climb into a bed with you!"

"I hate to break it to you, Bella, but you've already done so. Twice." He smiled sinisterly.

She was about to respond, when she heard a splash beside her. Turning she saw Nicholas surface beside her. His hands came up and he slicked back his wet hair. Rivulets of water streamed down his face.

"What in Hades do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to enjoy the pleasures of your body, Bella. There's no reason for me not to, after all, this marriage was consummated five years ago." He reached for her, his hand locking like a clamp around her wrist, and pulled her to him, sending little ripples of water away from them.

"Don't you dare call me Bella! Only Marcus does that!" she cried as she felt his hand sweep over her sensitized breast. She couldn't hide her response to him and her nipples beaded under his gentle touches. She moaned softly, her body out of her control. "Please, don't," she cried softly.

"Yes, Bella," he replied breathing in soft pants. Her body rubbed against his sensuously and he reached down pulling her legs around his hips, his already aroused manhood pushing insistently against her womanhood, but he didn't enter her.

He placed his hands at the base of her back and pushed her forward, her breasts jutting out. Nimbly he leaned forward and captured one of the hardened buds of desire in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, nipping it slightly with his white teeth, then finally taking it deep into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

"Nicholas!" she cried wanting him to stop and continue at the same time. Her body rebelled against her, wanting the intense, burning pleasure that she knew would come if she stayed in his arms.

Gently he realeased her nipple and brought his mouth to hers, kissing her persuasively, his tongue slipping between her softly parted lips to taste her honeyed sweetness.

He spread more kisses down her neck, as she tipped her head backward, the ends of her hair trailing in the water. His hands continually caressed her body, sending blinding bursts of fire through her, rocking her to the very core of who she was.

He felt the instant all her inhibitions and protests died, she arched against him, her breasts rubbing against the sworls of hair that covered his chest. The beaded nipples of her breasts chaffing his flat, brown nipples.

Without hesitation he thrust easily into her, his body jolting with a quiver of desire at being back where it belonged, inside hers. A smug smile curved his lips when he felt her answering shudder.

Thrusting, withdrawing, thrusting again, Nicholas thought he would burn up before she reached climax. He dragged her down on his swollen member, holding her hips, working her up and down. Her inner muscles clasped him dragging over his aroused shaft, making him groan in pleasure.

Her nerves screamed in agony for the release that she felt building inside her. She wanted to feel it was through her, taking away everything except them and what happened between them when they came together like this.

Nicholas' hands clasped her buttocks, bruising them with his fingers as he plunged into velvet warmth, feeling the release pounding in his blood, swelling him even more inside her, larger than he thought was possible. His mouth traveled frenziedly between her swollen breasts and her softly parted mouth. When he moved one hand between their straining bodies to find the bud of her desire, she went wild, moaning and grinding her hips in a crazy rhythm that drove him to attempt still greater heights, thrusting himself into her until he touched her womb. In wonder, he watched her expressive face as she exploded in climax, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted, blue eyes soft and glazed in passion. Then all thought vanished as his seed exploded from him in fevered release and he pounded into her until the final drop of his essence spilled from his body.

Shuddering and spent they clung to each other, her body still wrapped around his, her head resting against his chest and his shaft still inside her. Neither of them wanted to move so, still clinging to each other, Nicholas walked out of the water and laid down on the soft grass. Isabella rested on his chest, their bodies still intimately joined. Nicholas slid his forefinger under her chin and lifted it, gazing into her eyes, before kissing her softly.

His tenderness touched her and she couldn't believe the way he had once again seduced her protests from her. The last time this had happened she ended up pregnant. What if she was with child again? She couldn't bear losing another child like she had lost Hope.

Hope. Nicholas didn't even know about her. Hadn't known that he had sired a daughter. She had to get out of here, she thought quickly. Being with Nicholas like this had her thinking about children and a happy family, something she knew would never happen if she married Nicki.

"Really, Nicki, was it necessary to use force?" she spat, trying to get him angry enough to put her away from him. If she tried to leave on her own he wouldn't let her go without an explanation.

"Force?" He practically choked on the word. "There was no force. Maybe you were a little reluctant at first, but in the end you couldn't deny what happened to you."

"You're right. All this proved was that you can control my body through sex. You can make me respond to you." She sat up, the motion pushing his shaft deep inside her once more. His eyes widened as it swelled and pulsed, her movement making him as hard as rock again. He groaned when her muscles clenched convulsively around him again. A frustrated moan broke through her lips as once again the fever built inside her. She tipped her head back, wondering if she would ever get enough of him or if she was fated to be with him like this for the rest of their lives.

No matter what she tried, she couldn't make herself climb off him and leave. Her body ached for the release he could bring her to. His hands were about to settle on her hips but she grabbed his wrists, forcing them over his head as she leaned forward kissing him wildly, her hands still holding his wrists pinned.

"No hands Nicholas. This time its my turn." She placed her hands on his stomach, raising and lowering herself on him at a pace he thought would kill him until they cried out in mutual release and collapsed against each other.

She was about to apologize for her words earlier, but this time Nicholas was angry and his words lashed her. "I must say Bella, if another man sampled your passion he would probably find you more experienced than the most proficient doxy."

"Oh! You rotten bastard! I am a whore to no one! And I won't be one to you!" she cried, climbing off of him. Her muscles released his manhood difficultly, sliding over his flesh. He groaned when the cool air brushed against his shaft which still bore remnants of his seed and her sweet essence.

She sashayed over to the dock where her clothes laid, her hair swishing in wet tangles down her back, trying to ignore the feel of his seed on her inner thighs and deep inside her, but each step she took reminded her.

"I do say, Bella, that I will enjoy having you in my bed every night, instead of a secret meeting once every couple of years," he said, his gaze traveling over her body. She was deliciously curvy with slightly wide hips and large breasts that rose proudly, the rosy nipples beading in the brisk spring wind. She seemed to be some water nymph emerged from the lake to tempt men to their doom. She had tempted him, several times, and apparently he was doomed. Well, maybe doomed to spend the rest of his life rutting on her body.

She knew he was trying to shame and humiliate her by keeping his gaze locked on her naked body, but she managed to ignore him. She angrily yanked on her clothes and managed to twist most of her hair up so that she could get it under her riding hat. "I may have to marry you. I may have to suffer you in my bed. But I do not have to suffer your taunts and lewd comments. If you wish to speak like that, go find a doxy, because I'll not bear it!" She launched herself onto Wind Dancer and set him into a gallop, racing away from the lake.

"Trust me, Bella, suffering is the last thing you'll do in my bed," he called after her, chuckling slightly to himself, slightly amused by her pique. She was going to be a handful, but a very enjoyable handful.

He pulled his clothes on and swung up onto his stallion, which also happened to be a black named Storm Rider, and pushed him into a gallop, following her trail back to the stables.

The next day Isabella stood as silent as death in front of her family's estate, waiting for the Earl's coach to arrive. Her mother and father had come into her rooms early in the morning to make sure that everything she would need was packed and that she was up and preparing to leave.

When she had returned from her swim the day before her parents had been outraged. Her father had come storming into her sitting room, after she had made herself decent by changing out of her riding outfit and sponging his seed from her thighs. He had lectured her thoroughly on proper conduct and her ability to cause a scandal no matter where she was or in who's presence she was in. When he finished he ordered her personal maid to come in and pack her things.

She prayed for a miracle, prayed that the Earl's coach wouldn't show up. Her heart plummeted to her stomach and her hopes shattered when she saw the coach, with the Earl's seal emblazoned in silver on the side of it, slowly rumbling up the drive. It pulled to a stop in front of her and a tall, dark hair, dark eyed man stepped out, and it wasn't Nicholas. He quickly strode forward and without a word, grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her gloved fingers.

"Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"And who are you?" she inquired, stepping away from him.

"I am Gavin MacDuell, laird of the clan MacDuell, a friend of Nicholas. I was sent in his stead to fetch you to Briarwood."

"Why, pray tell, is the Earl not here?" she asked, her voice dripping with resentment over the fact that Nicholas had ordered her to be ready and in front of her home promptly at noon, yet he couldn't even find the time to come and accompany her to his estate.

"He was called away on business in Scotland. He should return within a fortnight. Until then you are to make yourself comfortable at Briarwood and make the preparations for the wedding. A seamstress has already been installed at Briarwood ready to help you make all the preparations that are necessary before Nicholas returns. The priest has already been notified the date of the wedding and will arrive two days before it is to occur. Your parents have been told that they are welcome a week before the wedding. Other than them no one else will be attending the wedding, except for myself of course. I'll be standing as best man to Nicki."

The driver appeared to be done loading Isabella's luggage and Gavin helped her into the carriage. She had already made her farewells to her sister and her parents so they were not there to see her off. She wasn't one for long, sappy good-byes.

About fifteen minutes after they had set out for Briarwood, which had been spent in silence, Isabella inquired about whether or not Marcus would be allowed to attended the wedding.

"Nicholas informed me that Hartford wouldn't be allowed at the wedding. He seems to be very temperamental where Marcus is concerned. I couldn't figure it out myself at first, after all, I've met Hartford on several occasions and he seems a nice enough chap. I finally realized why Nicki resented him when I remembered that Marcus, whenever I saw him, always mentioned you. Everyone thought that he was in love with you, but it soon became apparent that he thought of you like a little sister. Unfortunately, Nicholas isn't of the same impression, no matter what he sees or what anyone tells him. He's very stubborn and has been all his life. When he gets something into his head, no one can get it out."

Tears had started to burn at the back of her eyes the second he said that Nicholas had made it clear that Marcus wouldn't be allowed at the wedding. She had turned away from him, staring out the window of the coach, not really hearing what he was saying to her. Silent tears began to stream down her cheeks. She had been counting on Marcus being there for moral support. There was no way she would make it through the ceremony without knowing that he was behind her, giving her the strength to endure the proceedings.

"Miss Bennet, are you all right?" Laird MacDuell asked, finally noticing the path of tears that was running down her rosy cheeks.

She swiped at the tears that were beginning to dry on her cheeks. "I am quite fine," she assured him politely before changing the subject. "Laird MacDuell, why is it that you're the head of a Scottish clan, have a Scottish name, yet don't speak with a Scottish burr?"

"I was wondering when you would notice. My father, Ian MacDuell, was laird of the clan MacDuell until he stepped down, bestowing me with the title four years ago, an uncommon occurrence I assure you. I expected to take over after his death. My mother, Rebecca Sinclair, lived in Northern England. When she was seventeen she met Ian and they fell in love. From the letters that she wrote they were soulmates, meant to be together forever. After a very short courtship, my father asked my mother to marry him. She agreed and they consummated the marriage before it occurred. That's when she became pregnant with me. Unfortunately, her parents weren't about to let her marry a Scot who was below her station in life. Since she was already with child, they had to bribe a man, who was in need of money, to marry her, child and all."

"Her parents had her married the day before she was to meet Ian to elope. When she didn't show up the next day, he was crushed and assumed that she hadn't really loved him. He returned to Scotland and married a girl who had been in love with him her whole life. He had no heirs by this woman, who eventually died in childbirth, the child with her, and came in search of my mother, hoping against hope that he would find her. He had been searching for explanations, wondering if his life would have been different had he married her."

"When he found her she had been staying at my London townhouse. My stepfather had been dead for two years. He knocked and the maid let him in. She led him to the parlor where my mother and I were enjoying a game of whist. When she looked up and saw him standing there, she fainted. For a moment I thought that he was going to fall as well. He just stood there staring in disbelief at me while I tended to my mother. You see, I looked just like him with the exception of the color of my hair, which I inherited from my mother."

"Eventually, my mother came to and we all sat in the parlor talking about what had happened so many years ago, for there were a lot of questions to be answered. He had been so excited when it finally sank in that I was his son. And to make a long story short, he and my mother are now happily married and living in Glasgow."

Isabella sat back, staring at Gavin in shock. The story had touched her heart so deeply. To find your true love like that, after all those years. She thought it was the most romantic story she had ever heard. Only Marcus and Emma knew that she was a pushover when it came to romance. Not that she would ever tell Gavin. He would tell Nicholas, who would use romance as a way to try and make her a docile wife.

She kept silent for the remainder of the journey to Briarwood. She was glad that Gavin didn't try to get her to talk, she was busy forming a plan in her mind. Nicholas didn't want Marcus at the wedding. Well, he was going to be in for a surprise. She was going to invite, not only Marcus, but the two hundred people of the Ton that she was acquainted with, as well. She just hoped that the chapel was large enough to accommodate all the people. It was going to be the most talked about wedding of the Season.

She took her time looking around Briarwood. When she had first arrived she hadn't expected the estate to be so large. Gavin informed her that there were over one hundred bedrooms in the entire home. There were also quaint cottages scattered over the estate that could also be used by couples. Nicholas' estate expanded over fourteen hundred and fifty acres.

After a thorough examination of the rooms, taking in all the space, she decided that there would be more than enough room for all the people she planned to invite to the wedding. The nice thing was that Nicholas wouldn't be able to do anything about it because by the time he returned they would already be here for the ceremony, and he couldn't very well kick them out. He would be branded as rude and impolite and very few would wish to pay visits again. She couldn't wait until she got started on the preparations, because she planned on having the grandest wedding imaginable, at Nicholas's expense.

The next day she met with the seamstress in the main parlor and began looking over designs for wedding dresses. It took a while but she finally settled on a simple white silk gown with a plunging square neckline that exposed an ample amount of her breasts. It had puffy, capped, shortsleeves and the skirt was white silk with a three foot train. Instead of a veil she chose a halo of white roses with white ribbons trailing down the back where they would fall to her lower back.

She walked through the chapel telling the wedding planner what she wanted done. Each of the pews was to have a bouquet of pale orchids on them and she would also carry them as her bouquet. She wanted candles to be lit in a row along each wall.

The bridesmaids, her sister Emma and her childhood friends, Elizabeth, Selene, and Amelia, were going to wear lavender silk gowns with capped sleeves. They would be carrying bouquets of white roses.