Nicholas glared. “If you think I’m going to lose the bet, you’re sorely mistaken.” Lady Fenton sauntered off when she heard the word bet, which made Nicholas rest easy she had no inclination of the feelings Sai evoked in him.
Belverd took a long drink of brandy. “What would ever give you the idea my faith in you is wavering?” His eyes twinkled with laughter, making Nicholas all the more annoyed. He grabbed the brandy Belverd offered, tossing it back like milk. Forcefully, Nicholas handed the cup back to him and stalked outside to the gardens. Although still early, he’d seen enough for one night. Protector or no protector, he had no intention of standing idly by watching the Duke and Sai begin their courtship.
***
Sara knew the moment Nicholas left the room. Her body began relax in the Duke’s arms. She finally felt free to dance without being watched. She had been apologizing profusely for tripping over his feet, but he was kind enough to tell her a joke about his first ball. Apparently, he had grabbed a woman’s wig during a dance in order to break his own fall. Sara giggled with delight at the anecdote. He was an old man, older than her own father, but he seemed kind. She liked that about him. However, she couldn’t really see herself conjuring up romantic feelings for him. He was more like a grandfatherly teddy bear, and thinking about him made her want to hug him. Not…well, not do other things with him.
Nicholas had left a handprint on her back, unfortunately. The place where he held her burned, and every move she made, it felt like her body mourned the absence of his. Almost as if they’d been designed from the beginning of time to fit together. The thought made her uncomfortable, to say the least. He would never choose her, why would he? She tried to smile and focus on the duke, but felt her lips freeze when Aunt Tilda offered a rare approving nod from where she stood.
The dance ended, giving Sai the escape she needed. She excused herself from the duke politely, and made a swift exit for some fresh air, relieved when nobody seemed to notice her take her leave into the gardens. She glanced back to confirm no one had followed her, and then bumped into something hard.
That something uttered a word she could only assume was not fit for her ears and turned around.
“Nicholas?” she asked perplexed. When did he go outside? She knew he left the room but figured he had joined some of the gentlemen elsewhere; instead he was here. Outside. Alone. With her.
He looked equally shocked. His eyes narrowed toward her and then the door. “What are you doing out here?” He sounded angry. Why wasn’t that a surprise anymore? Although to tell the truth, he was as enticing angry as when he was calm. He had the most handsome face. His jawline was clenched and a muscle flared across it as if he was trying to bite his own tongue.
She pushed past him and walked off the beaten path to a tree. “I can’t dance.”
“Everyone can dance.” She could almost feel him rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“I can only waltz,” she said, echoing his irritated tone. “It’s the only dance I’ve been taught. I felt nervous, so I came outside for some fresh air. Is that all right? Or am I not allowed to do that, oh loyal protector?” She turned around in time to see his head snap up. His eyes smoldered with irrational anger
In two strides he was in front of her. “Do you think this is a game? Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be walking around outside by yourself? Any man could have his way with you out here.” He shut his eyes and pinched his nose. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sara sighed and lowered herself onto the bench beneath the tree. “Did you know that no man has ever even tried to kiss me?” She corrected herself then uttered, “I mean a real kiss, not a pity kiss, or a kiss out of curiosity, or even a kiss from a family member. A real kiss. I guess I don’t even know what one would feel like.
He looked surprised. He also sat down, which she thought was probably a good sign.
“I always wanted to be kissed, wanted to see what it felt like before…” She let her voice trail off mournfully.
“Before what?” he asked. His voice was gentle, sensitive. The sound of it sent her heart fluttering rapidly.
She plucked several blades of grass and played with them absently before she answered. “Before I’m married off to a man older than my grandfather.”
“You know,” he said, turning to face her. “Many women would be thrilled to become a duchess even if it meant marrying a man twice their age.”
She sighed. “I know, but I can't help but wish to marry someone who will love me for me. Someone who will love me enough to be loyal.” She hesitated a moment, trying to decide if she should continue. Then asked the dreaded question she had been pondering all night. “Do you think he will be loyal to me?”
Her question seemed to take Renwick off guard. Breaking eye contact, he glanced at the ground then back at her. He seemed to be weighing his response carefully, and after a long silence he answered, “Sai.” His voice was strained. “I think any man would be a fool to betray you, and that’s the absolute truth.”
He hadn’t said she was beautiful, but he didn’t need to. He said what she needed to hear, that she was a treasure worth keeping, someone worth marrying. It was enough to make her sob, but instead of tears her moment of weakness produced bravery.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked boldly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Never mind. It was stupid. I’m sorry.” Sara stood to leave, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her down upon his lap in one smooth motion. She was afraid to make eye contact, afraid a look in his eyes would vaporize every ounce of bravery she possessed. What right did she have to ask this beautiful man to kiss her? As ugly as she was? Pain surged through her tightening chest, as fear grasped her. She was scared. Sara had experienced rejection before, but what if Renwick were to reject her? It would kill her, she was sure of it.
He’s kissed you before, her heart reminded her as she waited for his response. She wasn’t throwing herself at every available man. The fact that they had already shared a kiss, albeit brief, made her feel more vulnerable. What if she was so terrible the first time that he didn’t want to repeat it?
Renwick licked his lips and bent toward her face. A shudder went through her as the heat from his skin grew closer to her lips. Closing her eyes in anticipation, she waited for the inevitable. And nearly cried when his lips brushed lightly across her forehead rather than where she wanted them the most. Sara's heart sank. How did he not understand that wasn’t what she meant? Her eyes fluttered open as she began to protest, but he silenced her with a finger. His eyes turned black, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away if her life depended on it.
He smiled teasingly and kissed her cheek. Again she opened her mouth to say something; this time he chuckled and silenced her in the same way. She felt dizzy. He was toying with her, she knew it—why would he waste his time kissing everything but her mouth? Wasn’t that how kissing worked? She had only kissed her parents on few occasions and mostly on the hand or cheek.
She bit her lip in frustration as he kissed her other cheek. Then his entire face seemed to darken with hunger. His lips touched hers, almost as if he was asking permission. She didn’t know what to do—was she to push back, or open her mouth, or…? Her mind became a jumble of incoherent thoughts. Only one thought was clear when she felt how soft his lips were against hers. Kisses with the duke would never be like this. And her heart broke.
“Sai,” Nicholas whispered with ragged breath.
“What?” She leaned back, but he gently put a hand behind her neck and pulled her head to his again.
“I need you to--.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he needed, but in that same instant he pulled her in and gently brushed his lips across hers. The kiss surprised her. It was different than before. His tongue effortlessly moved between her parted lips, tasting and exploring. Pressure increased as the kiss deepened, sending her further into a passion-filled haze. His hands continued to move gracefully across her back makin
g her feel like she was the most delicate woman in the world. His tongue continued to demand more and more of her surrender.
Instinctively, she reached out and entrenched her fingers in his hair and pulled him even closer needing to feel his hard body against hers. He moaned something inaudible and shifted his weight shielding her form from the cool of the night. All she felt was heat emanating from him. Desperation overwhelmed her as his kisses moved down the side of her neck into her ear. His velvet tongue now drawing circles around the delicate part of her ear. She didn’t want the kiss to end. In fact, she would have been happy to stay on his lap forever.
He pulled back abruptly and paled. Had she done something wrong? Had she pushed him too far? She felt suddenly ashamed about still being in his lap; but it was then she realized she wasn’t even in his lap anymore, but lying on her back with him on top of her. She immediately flushed crimson and closed her eyes. This was an extremely compromising position, not that she had cared at the time, but if anyone were to see them, they would surely be forced to marry.
Sara quickly got up and pushed some of the escaped hair out of her face. Nicholas was still speechless, which led her to believe he regretted his decision. The silence was deafening and embarrassing. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. How could she be so stupid as to think that a man like him would actually want her. Mortified she muttered a flustered thank you and rushed back toward the house.
Behind her Nicholas fast approached. She grunted when he pulled her into the shadows and pushed her back against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked. Was he mad? Why would he be sorry?
“You asked for a kiss.” He laughed bitterly and looked away. “And I nearly compromise you at your first ball. Really, I had no intention of putting you in that position. I really am a rake at heart; you would be wise to remember that.” The last words were spat out rather coldly.
“How could I forget? Especially when you make it your personal duty to remind me every minute of every day.”
She shoved him away and stormed into the ballroom, leaving an angry, yet alluring Nicholas Renwick behind.
Chapter Seven
What was wrong with him? Was he mad? Maybe he should do himself a favor and take the carriage to Bedlam himself. She was an innocent unless she was a good actress, but that was nearly impossible. That had been the poor girl's first real kiss. What right did he have to bestow it upon her? The memory of her lips burned in his thoughts, making him want to swear and laugh at the same time.
She was exquisite—everything that a duke would want and more. Beautiful and classy with just a hint of mischief. Yes she would be a good duchess. The duke would be a fool not to choose her, but then again, wasn’t he playing that exact same fool by letting her go? He kicked the grass with his boot and blazed back inside the room. Sai was nowhere to be seen.
Lord Rawlings sauntered up next to Nicholas, making him wish for a quick escape. Rawlings was one of the most egotistical fools with whom he had ever had the unfortunate opportunity to converse.
“That’s quite a comely wench you've brought with you, Renwick,” he said in hushed tones.
“She’s not mine.”
“Oh?” Rawlings seemed to be mocking him. “It didn’t look that way just a few moments ago.”
Nicholas turned to face him. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“The young lady came running into the ballroom from the garden—lips swollen, hair rumpled. Amazing that Lady Fenton didn’t take notice immediately.”
Nicholas shrugged. “I’m glad she’s enjoying herself in the gardens with available gentlemen, but it’s none of my concern.”
“I’m sorry—" Rawlings put his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “Where did I see you just come from?”
Nicholas paled.
“Be careful, or you’re going to lose more than Belverd’s silly bet.”
Rawlings turned on his heel and walked off, leaving behind a speechless Nicholas. Just how many people knew about this bet? It was obvious he was being watched more than usual, which made him feel oddly uncomfortable, in spite of the fact his whole existence had been about gaining attention in the ton.
Watching couples dance and flirt shamelessly left a bitter taste in his mouth. He suddenly realized that the ball was the last place he wanted to be. What man enjoyed watching other couples participate in the type of happiness he knew he would never have? Having the desperate urge to leave, his eyes quickly scanned the crowd for Sai; it was only proper to let her know he was abandoning her.
He heard a hearty rich laugh coming from the refreshment area and inwardly grimaced when he realized it was most likely Sai getting more male attention.
Sure enough, upon arriving at the table, he noticed several gentlemen flocking around her, laughing and trying to impress her with jokes. She seemed amused, but also taken aback by the overwhelming attention. It was alluring to see such a striking woman so timid. Especially with such titled men salivating over her. He pushed his way through, glad for once for his reputation. Men were used to getting out of his way.
He leaned down and whispered, “Lady Sai, a word, if you please?”
She excused herself from the gentlemen and linked her arm in his. Just one touch from her sent a longing shudder throughout his body. He tried to stifle the hunger that threatened to escape, but it was torture. He led Sai down a darkened hallway and onto a patio he once used to seduce women. Odd, that he would take her to the one place he knew nobody would find them. It wasn’t wise, he knew. He was making a mistake. They should be around people, not lurking in dark corners.
He inhaled unsteadily and faced her. “Sai, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to retire for the evening.” He bent down to kiss her glove, but she had already removed it and was now feeling his forehead.
“You do feel a little warm.” Her voice was heavy with worry. She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you wouldn’t drink so much, it wouldn’t be a problem. I hear brandy is bad for fevers.”
“What the devil do you mean? I don’t drink too much!” he argued.
“You do. I’ve seen you throw back more than your fair share. I don’t approve.” She leaned over the railing, pulling away from him at the same time.
Nicholas hesitantly drew closer. “I didn’t realize you were watching me so closely.”
Eyes flickering with embarrassment, she looked away. So this was how she was going to play it, ignorant.
“I assure you,” he cleared his throat. “I normally make no habit of consuming spirits of any kind, not even when I lived up to the reputation of the playboy of the ton.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Why now?”
“Why, indeed,” he muttered, feeling pitiful and powerless.
She said nothing about his confession, though he knew she had heard it. “Sai, I—“
“Yes?” Her eyes looked innocent and hopeful.
“I…” He shook his head. Why was this so hard? He refused to lose the bet, but then again, nobody would actually see them up here. What would be the harm? She had asked him to kiss her. Why shouldn’t she experience what it would feel like to be led down a dark hallway and kissed senseless?
Forgetting everything except his own needs, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the unsatisfied passion he posessed. Her body went limp against his, as he took in more and more of her taste. Everything about her was fresh and alive. She tasted of newly picked strawberries, warm and inviting. He took the liberty of running his fingers through her hair and realized his mistake. It made him hungrier for more. He would never be satisfied with merely kissing this woman. Never. He cupped her chin and kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble with delight each time his lips met her skin. She seemed to purr as he left trails of kisses down her cheek; her eyes were closed, but he wanted nothing more than to see the two large emeralds aglow with desire gazing back at him.
>
“Open your eyes,” he whispered huskily.
For once she didn’t argue, but obeyed his bidding. It was enough to completely undo him. He picked her up and found her mouth again, this time with everything he had been thinking and feeling since meeting her. If he was going to kiss her, he wasn’t going to hold back, especially if she was to belong to someone else. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, the intense longing shot straight through his body, making him want to moan and shout all at once. This madness had to stop, or he would do more than just steal a kiss from the innocent girl.
Unwillingly he set her feet back on the ground and hesitantly distanced himself from her. Her breathing was ragged. Her hair had fallen out of its pins, and her lips looked swollen and ripe. He didn’t think it possible, but she was more beautiful than before. Her eyes held questions he knew he would have to answer. He struggled to say something, something to reassure her misgivings.
The Ugly Duckling Debutante Page 7