A Wayward Woman: Diamonds, Deception and the Debutante / Fugitive Countess. Helen Dickson

       Chapter Four

      For the first time since the diamonds had been taken, Belle had a feeling of self-doubt. Carrying her jacket, she moved towards Lord Bingham, confused as to what she should do. If the diamonds really did belong to him, then by rights she should give them back.

      ‘So, Belle. What are we to do? You have the jewels. Will you return them to me?’

      ‘I think I should wait and see what my grandmother has to say about that.’

      ‘Belle, they really do belong to me. If you don’t give them to me voluntarily, then I shall have to take them from you. Is that what you want?’

      ‘What?’ she uttered, her eyes flashing with scorn. ‘Will you threaten to shoot me like you did last night—and I seem to recall there was a moment when you implied that you would. What kind of man are you, Lord Bingham? What was it that drove you to play such a despicable game? Is there some quirk in your nature that you enjoy doing that to people? Why should I believe anything you say?’

      ‘Because I am a fairly honest person. Trust me. Something happened between our families concerning the diamonds when our grandmothers were in their prime. My grandmother kept a journal. Everything explaining proof of ownership and what happened at that time is written there. I will show it to you if you like, but there isn’t time now. I have to return to my guests.’

      Belle turned to the door. ‘I think I should go. I told the coach driver to wait for me at the corner of the street.’

      ‘Belle …’ She turned and looked at him. His eyes were steadfast. ‘The diamonds.’ Slowly he walked towards her, holding out his hand.

      Belle knew he wouldn’t let her out of that room unless she gave them to him. Reluctantly she fumbled in the pocket of her coat and took out the pouch and handed it to Lord Bingham.

      ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking it.

      ‘What do you advise me to tell my grandmother?’

      ‘The truth. She’ll understand. Come, I’ll take you back to the coach—although I can’t think what your driver was thinking of bringing you here, dressed like that, in the first place.’

      ‘I can be quite persuasive when I want to be—even with coach drivers when I use my best smile on them.’

      She didn’t need to elaborate. The effect of her smile was highly predictable. Lance could well imagine the driver’s dilemma, how dumbstruck and willing to do her bidding he had been when she had flashed her pearly white teeth and fluttered her eyelashes.

      ‘What a truly vain creature you are, Belle Ainsley.’

      ‘You may see it as a flaw, but at times it can be useful.’

      Lance shook his head. The way the female mind worked sometimes was beyond his comprehension. ‘There are some things that would tempt a man beyond good sense. Your smile is one of them. However, the ease with which you have managed to get into my house tells me that I must have a word with my butler about increasing the security. Any miscreant from the street could enter. You encountered no one?’

      ‘No—and I can find my own way to the coach.’

      ‘I’ll make sure you leave the house without being seen. I insist. I certainly don’t want any of my guests confronting you looking like that.’ Taking her jacket from her, he held it while she thrust her arms into the sleeves. ‘I apologise for the rip. A good seamstress should be able to repair it.’ Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her round to face him. ‘I would like to apologise for last night,’ he said calmly. ‘I can’t remember the last time I apologised for anything, so you must forgive me if I appear awkward.’

      Belle was not to be so easily mollified. ‘What an arrogant man you are to think that after what you did to me last night and the violence that you threatened, I can be placated with a few words of apology. You can apologise all you like, but it still does not absolve you or solve the problem I shall have explaining what you have done to my grandmother.’

      His face darkened with annoyance, and Belle could almost feel his struggle to hold his temper in check. ‘I could say that your own behaviour—by coming here tonight and breaking into my home, is not beyond reproach either. However, I am truly sorry if I frightened you last night. Despite how it looked, it was never my intention to hurt you.’

      ‘You didn’t hurt me. I was simply furious that you should have the audacity to do what you did. And now if you don’t mind I would like to leave.’

      Turning on her heel, she went to the door. Lance followed, halting her by catching hold of her arm and speaking close to her ear from behind. ‘Of course you must go, but before you do, Belle, I will give you a warning. Just one,’ he enunciated coldly. ‘Call it advice, if you prefer.’

      ‘If I wanted advice,’ Belle retorted, spinning round, her eyes sparking green fire, ‘I would not come to you.’

      ‘I don’t normally receive guests in my bedroom—but then, you are not my guest, are you? If you break into my house again and come to my room and search through my personal belongings, I will lock you in and not release you until you are well and truly ruined. Do you understand me?’

      Belle felt a sudden stillness envelope them. Vividly aware of the heat of his body and the spicy scent of his cologne, she was overwhelmingly conscious of the man behind her. She was irritated by the way in which he had skilfully cut through her superior attitude. She knew she had asked for it, but the magnetic attraction still remained beneath all the irritation.

      ‘I’m sure you would like nothing more, but I will not give you that satisfaction. Now, can we go?’ He was far too close and Belle was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. The tight tension of regret was beginning to form in her chest that she had dared to come here.

      Lance continued to hold her arm. Now the issue of the necklace was out of the way he was reluctant to let her go, and to his way of thinking it was time she received her comeuppance and realised the danger of coming uninvited to a man’s bedroom.

      ‘Not yet. I have not quite finished with you.’

      ‘Are you saying I am in danger?’

      Black brows arched above gleaming blue eyes. ‘Of the worst kind, I fear. Tell me, Belle, have you ever been kissed?’

      The tension in her chest was tightening. ‘No man kisses me except the man I want.’

      An almost lecherous smile tempted his lips as his eyes did a slow perusal of her lips before travelling to the slim, erect column of her neck, to the beckoning fullness of her breasts straining beneath her blouse. The all-too-apparent womanliness of her and the heady scent of her perfume evoked a strong stirring of desire, and he felt a familiar stirring in his loins.

      ‘Then I will have to make you want me, Belle.’

      He moved closer, close enough so that she was trapped and could not move without coming into contact with him. He braced his forearms against the door and gazed down at her face. He ached to caress the womanly softness of her, to hold her close, and ease the lusting ache that gnawed at the pit of his belly.

      His nearness threatened to destroy Belle’s confidence and composure, but only threatened. This man was far too bold to allow even a small measure of comfort. She lifted her head imperiously, and her eyes glinted as they glared into his.

      ‘I don’t want you to show me. I don’t want you to touch me, so kindly step back and let me go at once.’

      ‘Not a chance,’ he drawled. Gripping both her upper arms, he pulled her to him, holding her tightly against his chest, his fingers digging cruelly into her soft flesh.

      Resolutely she squirmed against him. She saw his eyes darken in the dim light, his lean and handsome features starkly etched. A strange feeling, until this moment unknown to her, fluttered within her breast, and she was halted for a brief passing of time by the