The rain pounded into them as they ran. The wind whipping at Miss Jones’ dress.
Laughing, Miss Jones reached the door first and hunkered under the eaves. Turning to him she smiled and yelled, “I won,” over the sound of the storm.
Devlin chuckled. “I thought we were racing the rain, not each other.”
She laughed. “That doesn’t matter, I still won.”
He reached around her and pulled the latch, pushing the door open, he stepped aside to allow her to enter.
The inside of the small house was typical. One room, a stone floor, a wooden table in the middle. Someone had left a setting ready for use in the fireplace to the right. A double bed sat in the far left. His heart jumped at the sight of the bed. A thousand thoughts flashed into his mind. None of them appropriate. All of them wonderful.
He struck a steel to light a candle someone had left on the table. He turned and lifted it up to inspect the room.
A simple home, for a simple man, Devlin thought. Remarkable when you compared it to Pine Crest. The opposite end of the spectrum.
Turning, he brought the candle up so that he could see Miss Jones. She looked like a drowned cat. Waterlogged and sopping wet.
Her normally starched bonnet lay limp about her face. Her gray dress had turned black with wet. He was sure that her beaded slippers were caked with mud and completely ruined. He would have to be sure to replace them.
As he stared at her, she pulled the bow under her chin and removed her bonnet. Once the bonnet had been set aside, she pulled a pin and let her warm brown hair fall around her shoulders. She bent forward and shook her hair free, running her fingers through it to untangle the wet strands.
He winced at the pure beauty. His heart pounded inside of him. She reminded him of a Greek goddess. Warm, pure, and strong.
She looked back at him for a moment, her eyes dancing with laughter at their run. As he watched, though. Her eyes lost their merriment. She looked around the room, fixing almost immediately on the bed.
She swallowed hard before turning away.
A strong desire to reassure her washed through him. The thought that she might fear him, troubled him to his very core. The last thing he wanted was this woman fearing him.
“It will keep us dry at least,” he said as he made his way to the fire. He tracked mud and water across the room, but it couldn’t be helped. Bending, he checked that the chimney flue was open. Using the candle, he lit the kindling and started the fire.
Watching the flames catch, he thought about Miss Jones. He thought about that bed in the corner and a dozen other thoughts. She is off limits he reminded himself. Besides, a woman such as her would never be interested in a man such as him.
A woman like Miss Jones would demand forever. She would want assurances and promises. Things he could not give.
Setting his expression, he rose and turned slowly. Their eyes locked for a brief moment. The pink had returned to her cheeks.
She continued to look around the room as if searching for a way to escape. Suddenly, she shivered. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shuddered.
He rushed over to ensure she was all right.
“Come, get by the fire,” he said.
She looked at him for a moment as if she were trying to judge whether a snake would strike or not. It was the kind of look that could pull out a man’s heart.
“We’ll need to get out of these wet things,” he said before he realized what he was saying.
Her eyes lit up as if he’d told her they needed to steal the King’s Crown.
Laughing, he shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll set up a screen. You can cover up in one of the blankets. Your honor will be safe, Miss Jones, I assure you.”
She hesitated for a moment, biting that beautiful lip of hers and at last, nodded and made her way to the fire.
He swallowed hard and tried to push away the thoughts that rushed through him.
Damn, being honorable could be such a bother at times.
Chapter Seventeen
Rebecca’s mind raced as it struggled to grasp all of the sudden changes to her world. Only moments ago they had been traveling in relative comfort.
Now, here she was. Alone with the Duke, looking like she was this morning’s laundry. And he was talking about taking her clothes off.
A warm thrill ran through her. She shouldn’t be enjoying this. She should be mortified. Society said that she should be ashamed and afraid.
But, she wasn’t, not really. Not of him. If she was experiencing any fear, it was of herself and what she might do.
The carriage accident, and then the race through the rain had awakened something inside of her. She had come close to death. They both had.
What was it, the Duke said? ‘None of us are sure about tomorrow.’ She now understood the true meaning of that statement.
Shivering, she made her way to the fire to stand next to him. Both of them looked down at the flames. Neither of them spoke, neither moved. Her skin tingled with their closeness. Every part of her felt drawn to him.
Glancing from the corner of her eye, she saw his large form. She remembered the way he had wrapped her in his arms and protected her during the crash. How it had felt to be so cared for, as if someone else was responsible. Someone had chosen to put her first, as if she were the special one. Even if it was only for a moment, it had been a freeing experience. A delicious spot in time that she would treasure forever.
The race through the rain had been exhilarating. She needn’t worry about someone judging her for being frivolous, or less than proper.
It was as if she had been a little girl again. Before she had learned all of society’s rules and regulations.
Now, she stood next to this man. This big, strong, powerful man. She remembered his concern for Mrs. Fuzzy and her kittens. The sadness in his eyes when he learned the fate of Elizabeth’s kitten. She thought of the deep hearty timbre of his laugh. The way his body shook and his eye lit up. As if the world was here to be enjoyed.
As she thought of these past few weeks, she realized that she had misjudged him.
He was a gentleman, in the true sense of the word. A man who enjoyed life and all it has to offer. But also, a protector, a strength to be leaned upon. Honorable and someone who could be trusted.
Her mind wandered to the bed in the corner. She couldn’t help herself. Just once, just once in her life, she wanted to have it all. To feel what it was like to have a man. A man like this.
Of course, it couldn’t happen, she told herself with an angry wince. He wasn’t interested in her that way. After all, he had never tried to kiss her again.
She shivered, fighting to keep her teeth from rattling.
“Here, follow me,” the Duke said as he stalked across the room towards the bed. Rebecca’s heart jumped into her throat as she watched him pull a blanket from the bed.
Was this it? Was he really going to seduce her here? Now? Her mind flew in a dozen different directions as she tried to understand what she wanted.
Yes, she thought suddenly, I do want this. The future be damned. No one need know. This was the perfect time, the perfect place. Away from snooping servants or societies keen observation. Alone together.
Her body grew warm from the inside as her breath raced. Was this really going to happen?
Yes, please, she thought.
Taking a small step, she started to follow him. She halted suddenly, her brow creasing in confusion when he tore a blanket from the bed and began to hang it from the rafters.
“You can change behind this Miss Jones,” the Duke said. “I will hang your things, there by the hearth. With any luck, they should be dry long before the men are finished repairing the coach.”
Her heart dropped. He wasn’t going to seduce her. He wasn’t going to take her. Not here, not now.
The sudden feeling of loss sent a tear to her eye as a sudden urge to cry washed through her. It was either that, or throw something at him.
Her eyes quickly scanned the room for something that might do enough damage if it was to hit him upside the head.
Seeing nothing, she set her shoulders and made her way to the hanging blanket. She made sure to avoid him. The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near the insufferable bastard.
When had been the last time she had felt such sadness, such loss. The death of her uncle, she realized. She hadn’t cried since that day. Yet here she was, ready to shed a tear over an insufferable oaf.
Stepping behind the screen, she kicked off her shoes. They were ripped and covered in mud. Her heart fell at the realization - only her shoes would be ruined this night.
It is better, she told herself. He has saved you from making a terrible mistake. You almost allowed yourself to believe it was possible. What a silly girl, she thought.
Sighing, she raised the hem of her dress so that she could remove her wet stockings. Glancing over her shoulder, she made sure he couldn’t see. The last thing she wanted was to reward him with a look at her legs.
Once her stockings were off she reached behind her to begin removing the laces to her dress. Her fingers shook with cold as she tried to grip the strings.
At first, she thought it was her own ineptitude that made it so difficult, but then, she realized the laces had swollen from the rain. She would never be able to remove them.
Shaking more from embarrassment, than the cold, she stuck her head around the edge of the blanket.
The Duke had removed his coat and shirt. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t yet removed his pants.
The strong muscles of his back glistened in the firelight. He looked pensive as he stared down into the flames, one hand resting on the brick chimney.
He was like a statue, she thought. Carved in stone, ripped from the very core of the earth. Her heart jumped, and she swallowed with a loud gulp.
He must have heard her, because he turned. His eyes meeting hers. Locking onto her. Pulling her into his very soul.
“Is everything all right? Miss Jones,” he said as he looked down at his own bare chest. “I do hope you don’t mind. I had to get out of those wet things. And as you had already seen me in a state of undress. I thought you would not be too offended. If it is a concern, I will get re-dressed.”
She had to tear her eyes away from his chest. She looked up, but then, she was caught by those smoky, silver eyes of his. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to look.
Rebecca did the only thing she could do and retreated behind her screen.
“I am sorry, Your Grace. Of course, I understand,” she said, fighting desperately to keep a hitch from her voice.
She could hear him sigh all the way across the room.
“Is everything all right?” he asked again.
She licked her lips. “It is …”
“Yes,” he asked. His voice sent a warm tingle down her spine to her very toes.
“I can’t unlace my dress,” she said with exasperation. “The laces are swollen.”
A silence greeted her announcement. The warm tingle was replaced with a cold shiver. Was he going to laugh at her?
Instead, she felt the blanket gently pushed aside.
“Here, let me help,” the Duke said as he stepped behind the screen. He looked down tenderly at her. She could feel his warmth even though he remained a respectable distance.
Swallowing hard, she turned her back to him and pulled her hair to the side.
She swore she heard him gulp a breath.
Holding her own breath, she waited. Nervous, afraid, and very much alive.
His fingers touched her back, making her jump a little. Forcing herself to relax, she closed her eyes and savored the moment.
The Duke gently untied the bow at the top of the laces and slowly began to pull them through. She felt her dress loosen in the shoulders and quickly grabbed it around the throat, less it fall.
He paused for a moment. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. The scent of sandalwood engulfed her. The room began to sway, and her legs grew weak.
Frozen in place, she waited for him to finish. Instead, she felt him lean down and gently kiss her exposed neck.
Her world erupted as if the fireplace had exploded into sparks from across the room. His lips gently caressed and traveled lower down her spine as he pulled the dress away.
She moaned and pushed back into him. Even through her dress she could feel his hardness. The realization melted something inside of her. Made her aware of him at an entirely new level.
Her heart raced, and her mouth went dry as he continued to kiss her skin. His hands dropped to her hips, holding her in place as he concentrated on driving her insane with need.
Without thinking, without warning, she moved against him. Wanting to feel more of him. Wanting to be closer.
Her body took over, her mind no longer in charge. Turning, she reached up to kiss him. She had to kiss him, had to feel those lips against hers.
He didn’t draw away. Instead, he seemed to come alive. His lips devoured her as his hands came around her waist to pull her close. She felt her dress slip away, falling to her feet.
She didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Pulling him in tight, she held herself next to him. The only garment, her light cotton shift, separating them.
What would it feel like to hold her skin next to his? To soak in his warmth.
Moaning once again, her tongue began to probe, began to demand more. His hand sent bursts of fire throughout her with each caress. They traveled from her waist. Slowly rising, until they softly cupped her breast.
Rebecca felt as if she were sinking into another world. Her skin was awash with flame, yet she did not burn. Her mind soared, but she felt every sensation.
“Oh Rebecca,” he said deep in his throat.
His words sent a surge of molten passion to her very core. Such need, such longing. If she had any doubts, they were lost because of two simple words.
She pulled away for a second to look at him. To study him. He returned her look with a passionate stare that told her he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Rebecca hesitated for a moment. It was the right time in her cycle. She didn’t need to fear. She bit her lip and nodded.
He smiled gently, then leaned down to kiss her shoulder. That special spot that only he knew about. The spot where her neck met her shoulder and set her world afire.
What must he think of her? she wondered.
He nipped at her neck, while his hands squeezed her breast and she forgot everything and melted into him.
“One time,” she said with panting breath. “Just once, I want to feel. I want to live. To know what it is like.”
He paused and looked at her again, she could see the doubt in his eyes.
“Truly, just one time. No one must know. Ever.” She held her breath. Would he agree? How could he not? Wasn’t this what every rake wanted? No commitments, no expectations.
His lips curled up in that smirk of his. The one that made her want to either slap him on the shoulder or kiss him into oblivion.
“If that is what you want,” he said.
Rebecca held her breath. This was really going to happen. Here, now. Finally, she would know what it was like to make love to such a man.
Suddenly, without warning, he bent down and swept her up into his arms. Smiling down at her, he kissed her before gently laying her on the bed.
She wet her lips and waited. She didn’t really know what to expect. Didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that he was gorgeous. Strong, and powerful and he wanted her.
Reaching out, she tried to pull him down with her onto the bed. He laughed as he avoided her grasp. His hands went to the waist of his pants. Looking down at her, he slowly lowered his trousers.
Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of him. Aroused, demanding. She tried to swallow, but she had forgotten how.
It was impossible not
to look. Not to admire. Every part of her being needed him. Wanted him.
She looked up into his eyes as he looked at her. Enjoying her wonder. Enjoying her enjoyment.
Sitting up, she pulled her shift over her head and let the wet garment fall to the floor beside the bed. She was naked before him. It was as it should be. The two of them, bare, and free. Primitive, essential. No secrets.
His eyes traveled slowly over her body. Stopping to admire each curve. Taking in all of her. A smile of desire crossed his lips.
A sweet sense of pride washed through her at his admiration. She felt herself relax, he liked what he saw. He needed what he saw.
“Please,” she said as she held out both of her arms.
His smile turned into a smirk, as he lay down next to her.
It was as if they were drawn together by a great force. Nothing could have kept them apart.
His skin felt wonderful next to hers. His hardness pushed at her leg as he lay on his side gently trailing kisses down her chest. Taking a nipple into his mouth, Rebecca let out a small squeal at the pure pleasure that washed through her.
One time, she reminded herself. This will happen only once and never again. Do not forget a thing.
His hands gently parted her legs and began to caress her. She froze for a moment at his touch. The intimacy, the pure animalistic joy of it frightened her.
He seemed to sense her hesitations. Halting for a moment, he concentrated on licking and sucking at her breasts.
Sighing at the loss of his touch, she placed a hand on his and slowly guided it to her core.
His fingers aroused a need in her as she flooded with desire.
He touched, stroked, and gently caressed her very essence, bring her higher, bringing her up until at last she exploded.
A million pieces of her fell into the heavens. Every muscle quivered, every part of her became new and different.
Digging her hands into his back, she tried to hold herself together.
At last, he let her back down.
Smiling down at her, he said, “Oh Rebecca, you are a passionate woman. Such power, such pure female power. It is amazing.”
She tried to smile back up at him as she fought to put herself back together. The sensation continued to run through her. But, she needed more. Wanted more.
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