was no such explosion now.
Tears butted up against her closed lids. Was this really happening? What was she doing?
“I love you,” he said thickly. “You are a dream come true.”
Elysse met his smoldering gaze and her heart raced. He loved her. He was a good man. Surely she could come to love him in return?
He suddenly put his arm around her. She thought he meant to kiss her again, but she found herself stepping down onto the lawns with him. He took her in his arms and kissed her again.
This time, his mouth was insistent, moving over hers again and again, and somehow she knew he wished for her to open her lips. She held firm, aware that she wasn’t ready, but she reached up for his shoulders. He grunted, the sound very male and shockingly sexual.
Some alarm began. They should stop—he had had his kiss.
But his grasp on her tightened. His mouth moved more roughly, more determinedly, on hers. His kisses were becoming frightening. She wanted to tell him that they should stop, but he loved her. She hesitated. Instead, before she could speak, his tongue thrust deep.
Alarm began as his heavy tongue filled her mouth. What was she doing? She choked. She did not want to be kissed like this! He was a stranger! She pushed at his shoulders, becoming very frightened now, but he didn’t notice.
Fear turned into panic. She told herself that the kiss would soon end—wouldn’t it? And he did love her. But one hand clasped her buttock and pulled her close, and she felt his stiff manhood against her hip. She had never felt that part of a man’s anatomy before, and she wanted to protest, her fear escalating. Instead, she froze.
Still holding her intimately, he broke the fierce kiss. “I love you,” he said, panting.
Before Elysse could protest and tell him that they must go back inside, he swept her back into his embrace, this time taking her down to the wet grass with him.
As his huge body covered hers, Elysse seized his shoulders to press him away—to push him off. Instead, his mouth tore at hers, his breathing heavy and harsh. She felt his hand move beneath her dress and underclothes to clasp her bare breast.
“William!” she somehow cried, but his kiss covered the sound of panic and protest. His arms were like a vise, his body like a clamp. She didn’t know how his huge thighs had gotten between hers. Her skirts seemed to be tangled up around her knees. What was he doing? She couldn’t do this!
And then she felt his hand high up on her thighs, beneath her skirts, only a thin soft layer of cotton between her and him. She bucked and twisted wildly now, desperate.
And suddenly Montgomery wasn’t on top of her anymore.
Elysse saw a blur of movement—and then Alexi was throwing Montgomery aside, his face a mask of rage.
She cried out. He had come to rescue her! She scrambled to stand up as Montgomery turned. Alexi tackled him viciously, head-on. Both men went down to the ground, struggling. Alexi was now on top, pummeling him furiously. She knew he meant to kill him. But Montgomery seized his throat.
Elysse screamed. “Stop! Both of you—stop!”
Alexi glanced at her, the American still choking him. Montgomery used the moment to jerk his knee up at his groin. Alexi twisted quickly away from the blow, and as he did, Montgomery thrust him off, and scrambled aside. Both men leaped to their feet simultaneously, crouching, facing one another.
“I am going to kill you,” Alexi said.
Montgomery said, “I am going to marry her.”
Elysse choked. What had she done?
Alexi suddenly looked at Elysse, his eyes hard and furious. “Are you all right?” he demanded. But his gaze widened as it held hers. She knew her hair was a mess. She thought her lip was bleeding. His gaze slammed down her body and she cringed. She was fairly certain that her dress was askew, possibly torn, and covered with grass stains.
She backed up, panting. She would never be all right, ever again. How had she allowed Montgomery such liberties? What had she been thinking? Why had he turned into such a beast?
“Elysse!” Alexi cried.
Elysse met his gaze, and felt the tears begin in a flood. She wanted to rush into his arms. He had been right. Montgomery wasn’t a gentleman. He had touched her, kissed her, grossly violating her body. She choked and staggered to the wall, to cling to it or fall down.
“I would never hurt her,” Montgomery said harshly. “I would never hurt the woman I love.”
Alexi said softly, dangerously, “Did you think to seduce her to assure that marriage? Don’t you know I would kill you first?”
Montgomery looked at Elysse. “If I hurt you, I am sorry.”
She shook her head, hating him. More tears fell. She trembled, the urge to vomit sudden and intense. “That wasn’t a kiss,” she heard herself whisper. “You touched me.”
“You fucking bastard,” Alexi growled.
Montgomery smiled coldly. “Get lost, de Warenne. I will take care of Elysse now. She is merely a frightened virgin.”
“No!” Elysse cried, horrified at the idea of being left alone with him again. But Alexi was oddly silent—and she saw the knife in Montgomery’s right hand. She froze. It gleamed.
“Leave us,” Montgomery said. “I need to speak to Elysse alone. She needs to understand how a man can become so aroused that he loses all control.”
She felt even sicker now. She had been fooled by Montgomery’s charm, his declarations of love. A true gentleman—a man like Alexi—would never force himself on any woman.
“Leave the two of you? Like hell.” Alexi smiled dangerously. He began circling the American. Montgomery turned, so that the two men continued to face one another.
And Elysse knew her presence was forgotten by them both. This had to stop, she thought frantically, before someone was seriously hurt—or worse! Elysse cried, “Alexi, I am fine. No one is marrying anyone! Let’s go home! You can take me home now!” She heard how terrible she sounded, sobs choking her tone.
Alexi launched himself at Montgomery, reaching for his right wrist. Elysse screamed, afraid that the American would stab him with the knife. But the blow glanced off of Alexi’s shoulder, and Alexi seized his wrist. Both men now strained at one another, their expressions murderous, Montgomery wanting to get free so he could wield the knife and Alexi not daring to release him.
Suddenly Montgomery grunted and dropped the knife. Alexi dived for it. Montgomery dived for Alexi, tackling him from behind. Elysse screamed as both men became entangled, wrestling on the ground, making it impossible to see what was happening. She thought Alexi had the knife. She wasn’t certain. She prayed it would get kicked away from them both!
And suddenly the knife was skidding across the terrace and both men were diving for it. Alexi landed on top of the pilot, grunting, as he seized it. A loud, sickening crack sounded. And Montgomery went still beneath Alexi, cheek pressed against the stone terrace.
Suddenly neither man was moving.
Elysse froze. Alexi got onto his hands and knees, staring down at the American—and she saw that Montgomery’s eyes were wide-open, eerily so.
Elysse gasped in shock. Montgomery was dead?
Alexi slid off him slowly. As slowly, he looked up at her, the answer in his eyes.
Her own horror began.
Alexi looked back down at the pilot. “He’s dead.”
She cried out. “He can’t be!”
Alexi inhaled harshly. “He’s dead. He hit his head on the stone.”
William Montgomery had hit his head—William Montgomery was dead?