Damon could not help himself. Leaning forward, he let his lips fall on hers, which were already swollen from their earlier meeting. Claire kissed him back tenderly and without reservation.
Would he ever get enough of her?
A dull cough made them both stiffen. Damon lifted his mouth from hers and peered over her head into her father’s angry eyes.
Claire turned to face her father, though Damon did not release her. Instead, he positioned her in front of him to hide the bulge now forming within his breeches. Claire settled back against him. She showed no signs of surprise at his aroused state—in fact, she settled her plush bottom firmly into him. She flexed her bottom muscles, as if to tease him. Damon gritted his teeth, fighting back the impulse to groan.
“Have you ruined my daughter?” Killory asked, his expression screaming fury.
Ruined? “No,” Damon said with conviction. Claire stiffened against him. “I have made her mine.”
“There is no difference,” Killory snarled.
“You are wrong. Only you can ruin her, by sending her to a man who has no want for her other than the coin she brings.”
“The contract has been signed. There is nothing I can do to halt it.”
Claire sucked in a breath. Her father’s words held little conviction, but Damon knew why this man did not want to break the contract. There could only be one reason.
“I have no need for your coin. When Claire and I marry, you can forfeit the coin to Sir Gerald.”
The older lord hit the table with his fist again. “You think it is that easy? She is promised to another!”
“Sir Gerald will not want her any longer. Not least if you force me to write to him and inform him his betrothed could be carrying my heir.”
Clare sucked in another startled breath as she moved a shaking hand to her stomach. It was clear the thought had never occurred to her, though the look her father gave the motion spoke volumes.
“Daughter, I arrange a marriage for you and you go running to your lover for help?” he snarled.
Damon gave her no time to reply. “She did not come running to me. I was on my way here to see you when I found her in tears,” Damon said. His words held censure and conviction.
Claire turned in his arms. “You were coming to speak with Father before…?” At his nod, her eyes widened. “About what?”
“I was coming to ask for your hand.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. He stroked away the moisture with a finger as it spilled over her lids. He hated to see her in tears, even if they were from happiness.
“You have brought scandal on my family!” Killory bellowed, recapturing his attention.
Damon gazed at the older man and levelled him with a look that was not to be challenged.
“I am one of the wealthiest lords in England and have asked for your daughter’s hand with no expectation of dowry for it. Scandal will not be brought upon her as my wife, whereas the marriage to a gambler and well-known vagabond, which you have proposed, would far increase the chance of shame being brought onto your family—more than if she remained unmarried. I will have her, Killory, mark my words. I hold more power than you in the House of Lords and instead of having me in your court, you should think about what it will mean to have me as an enemy.”
“Are you threatening me?” her father asked, and for the first time Damon saw the man’s uncertainty.
“No, merely warning you. I am more use to you as a friend—and son—than as a foe.”
Killory said nothing for a time, and Damon could sense victory.
“I will take her to Gretna Green if you do not consent,” Damon added.
“No,” Killory said as he sat back down in his chair. “I will have the banns read and the wedding will take place here in a month. I trust the babe, if there is one, will not be due for some time, daughter?”
Claire shook in Damon’s arms as she nodded.
Her father took a deep breath and picked up his drink. “Well, it is done. I will send word to Sir
Would he ever get enough of her?
A dull cough made them both stiffen. Damon lifted his mouth from hers and peered over her head into her father’s angry eyes.
Claire turned to face her father, though Damon did not release her. Instead, he positioned her in front of him to hide the bulge now forming within his breeches. Claire settled back against him. She showed no signs of surprise at his aroused state—in fact, she settled her plush bottom firmly into him. She flexed her bottom muscles, as if to tease him. Damon gritted his teeth, fighting back the impulse to groan.
“Have you ruined my daughter?” Killory asked, his expression screaming fury.
Ruined? “No,” Damon said with conviction. Claire stiffened against him. “I have made her mine.”
“There is no difference,” Killory snarled.
“You are wrong. Only you can ruin her, by sending her to a man who has no want for her other than the coin she brings.”
“The contract has been signed. There is nothing I can do to halt it.”
Claire sucked in a breath. Her father’s words held little conviction, but Damon knew why this man did not want to break the contract. There could only be one reason.
“I have no need for your coin. When Claire and I marry, you can forfeit the coin to Sir Gerald.”
The older lord hit the table with his fist again. “You think it is that easy? She is promised to another!”
“Sir Gerald will not want her any longer. Not least if you force me to write to him and inform him his betrothed could be carrying my heir.”
Clare sucked in another startled breath as she moved a shaking hand to her stomach. It was clear the thought had never occurred to her, though the look her father gave the motion spoke volumes.
“Daughter, I arrange a marriage for you and you go running to your lover for help?” he snarled.
Damon gave her no time to reply. “She did not come running to me. I was on my way here to see you when I found her in tears,” Damon said. His words held censure and conviction.
Claire turned in his arms. “You were coming to speak with Father before…?” At his nod, her eyes widened. “About what?”
“I was coming to ask for your hand.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. He stroked away the moisture with a finger as it spilled over her lids. He hated to see her in tears, even if they were from happiness.
“You have brought scandal on my family!” Killory bellowed, recapturing his attention.
Damon gazed at the older man and levelled him with a look that was not to be challenged.
“I am one of the wealthiest lords in England and have asked for your daughter’s hand with no expectation of dowry for it. Scandal will not be brought upon her as my wife, whereas the marriage to a gambler and well-known vagabond, which you have proposed, would far increase the chance of shame being brought onto your family—more than if she remained unmarried. I will have her, Killory, mark my words. I hold more power than you in the House of Lords and instead of having me in your court, you should think about what it will mean to have me as an enemy.”
“Are you threatening me?” her father asked, and for the first time Damon saw the man’s uncertainty.
“No, merely warning you. I am more use to you as a friend—and son—than as a foe.”
Killory said nothing for a time, and Damon could sense victory.
“I will take her to Gretna Green if you do not consent,” Damon added.
“No,” Killory said as he sat back down in his chair. “I will have the banns read and the wedding will take place here in a month. I trust the babe, if there is one, will not be due for some time, daughter?”
Claire shook in Damon’s arms as she nodded.
Her father took a deep breath and picked up his drink. “Well, it is done. I will send word to Sir
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