by Olivia Drake
Then he made the mistake of glancing up at her.
Forgetting about the shoe he was chivalrously restoring to her foot, he found himself riveted by the way the firelight gilded her smooth skin and buttercream hair. A few curls had sprung loose to give her the enticing look of a woman who had just arisen from bed. Most captivating of all was the soft, sensual smile on her lips.
She leaned closer and glided her fingertips over his cheek, and that gossamer touch sent another dart of heat through him. “Please don’t ever turn into a frog, Carlin. I like you much better as a man.”
He liked her too damn much as a woman. Therein lay the problem. He needed to view her dispassionately, as just another one of his servants.
But her forward movement had offered him a better view of her bosom, and what red-blooded man could resist such a sight? The delicate filigreed chain of her necklace was like a trail of bread crumbs leading downward into the valley between her breasts. Alas, the small gold pendant enjoyed privileges that he did not have.
Resolutely, he eased the shoe onto her dainty foot. “The slipper fits, which means it’s time for Cinderella to retire for the night.”
“Bah, that isn’t the way the story goes. I seem to recall the prince taking her into his embrace.” She shimmied closer and looped her arms around his neck. “It would be most inconsiderate of him to banish her from his sight.”
The warmth of her pliant body was almost too tempting to bear. Damn, he was in circumstances more treacherous than a storm at sea. The lust he felt should never be directed at a woman in his employ. Least of all one who had been used and abused for much of her life.
Still kneeling, he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Tessa, I’m very flattered that you enjoy my company. But if you stay, we’ll end up removing our clothing and making love.”
That blunt assertion didn’t deter her as he’d expected. Instead of recoiling, she regarded him with heartfelt sincerity. “I want that, Carlin. I feel such a great need for you, a craving that I’ve never felt for any other man.”
“That’s the wine talking,” he said hoarsely. “You can’t know what you’re saying.”
“Oh, but I do.” With a tender touch, she framed his jaw in her hands. The eyes that gazed into his were perfectly sober and candid. “I fear that I must make a confession. I came here tonight wanting … hoping for more than just a kiss. For once, I wish to experience the fullness of pleasure. To bury the past by creating a perfect memory of the here and now—with you.”
Those fervent words sealed his fate. And what a dazzling fate it was.
As she touched her lips to his, a white-hot desire seared him, burning his scruples to ashes. He molded her to his chest and returned her kiss with unbridled passion. Her eager response fed his own need to draw her essence into himself, to become one with her. How could he deny her when he, too, felt the fiery urge to merge their bodies?
But kissing her mouth was only a prelude to the feast. Guy wanted to taste all of her, every curve, every dimple, every hidden secret. As he blazed a trail down the uncharted territory of her throat and bosom, she arched her neck and threaded her fingers into his hair. Her quick, shallow breaths scorched him with the desire to press their bodies together, skin-to-skin.
While his tongue traced the whorls of her ear, he loosened the row of buttons down her back, his fingers clumsy with impatience. When at last it was done, and as he tugged at her gown, she assisted him by drawing her arms out of her sleeves so that her bodice slipped down to her lap.
He knelt before her like a supplicant to a goddess on her throne. Her undergarments had no frills or lace to distract from the smooth beauty of her figure, and he skimmed his hands over the warm contours of her waist and bosom. Only then did he allow himself to untie the strings of her corset and to slide his hands inside to open the stiffened fabric.
Freed from their prison, her breasts were a fête of femininity, with dusky rose nipples and lushly full globes. In the soft luminosity of the fire, they appeared the perfect size to fit his large palms. As he tested that notion and found it to be an excellent guess, the tremor that quivered through Tessa captivated him.
Her eyelids were at half-mast, her lips parted with pleasure as she pushed her breasts deeper into his hands and undulated her body against him. His own body responded with a hot pulse of desire. Bending his head, he took one taut peak into his mouth and laved her with his tongue before affording the same loving treatment to the other until she was gasping, her fingers moving restlessly over his shoulders and back.
She lowered her hands to tug rather impatiently at the hem of his shirt. “Shouldn’t you … may I see…?”
Guy perfectly understood her disjointed speech. “As my lady wishes.”
He paused only to drop another kiss on her soft lips. Then he dragged the linen shirt over his head and tossed it away without a care for where it landed. He was too intent on watching the light of interest on Tessa’s face.
She glided her palms over the muscles of his bare chest. As her fingertip traced one flat nipple, he groaned at the inferno she fanned in his loins. She looked at him in naïve confusion. “Did that hurt?”
A hoarse chuckle broke from him. “It felt far too good. I’m aching for you, Tessa. Unbearably so.”
Understanding dawned on her face, along with a blush and then a wise womanly smile. She slid her hands lower and let her fingers lightly play along the waistband of his breeches. He sucked in a ragged breath. Half maiden and half coquette, she possessed a natural sensuality that drove him wild.
He leaped to his feet and drew her up as well. In between deeply arousing kisses, he stripped away her gown and undergarments until only her stockings saved her from full nudity. With a blissful sigh, she slipped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his chest, her breath warm and unsteady against his overheated skin. “Oh, Carlin, how I’ve longed for you.”
“Guy. Say my name.”
“Guy,” she whispered, and turned a smile up at him.
That winsome air had the power to kindle his passions every bit as much as her naked form. He felt consumed by the desire to please her, to make this an experience she would never forget. His hands trekked along the indention of her waist and the curve of bare bottom, savoring the satiny smoothness of her skin. The pins had come loose from her hair, allowing thick waves to tumble over her shoulders and bosom, and he loved the softness of it to his touch. “What a darling you are, Tessa,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Warm, graceful, lovelier than any other woman I’ve known.”
She gave him a dubious look, but it was true. He had met many ladies deemed by society to be diamonds of the first water—indeed he had married one—and yet none of them could hold a candle to Tessa. Hers was a quiet beauty, lit from within by the brilliance of her spirit. In some still-functioning corner of his brain, he damned the strictures of class that separated them. If they had but this one night, this one encounter to savor, he intended to make the most of it.
He kissed her lingeringly, keeping his own fierce urges on a tight leash. Only when she began to move restively against him did he lower her onto the chaise. He could scarcely contain the mad impulse to join their bodies. Yet he took his time untying her garters and unrolling the plain cotton stockings down her legs, his mouth tasting the bare flesh that he uncovered.
Every part of her held him enthralled, the dainty toes, the shapely legs, the nest of her womanhood. He kissed a slow path upward to suckle her breasts again until she was moaning, clutching at his back. He then glided one hand downward to lightly palm her mound. As he slipped a finger inside to find her slick and hot, she shuddered. With one swirling stroke from him, a sigh of intense yearning eddied from her.
“Ahh … that feels so…”
Her voice trailed off into mewling sounds of delight as he continued to play with her. She tilted her head back and parted her legs in honeyed invitation. Her hips moved sinuously, arching against his hand, and tha
t untutored action strained the limits of his willpower. It took everything in him to keep from tearing off his breeches and claiming what he craved. But he would have her pleasure first, and it happened in a sudden quivering of her body, the dig of her fingers into his shoulders, and a sobbing cry of exultation.
His own ravenous hunger could wait no longer. He stripped himself naked and then lay down to cover her with his body. She regarded him with dreamy eyes and a contented smile, at least until he positioned himself to enter her. As he pushed past a slight resistance to bury himself inside her, he heard her choked whimper through a haze of exultation.
Panting, Guy reveled in her tight, hot depths even as he lamented having caused her pain. Her eyes were wide open now, and a wince firmed her lips. Devil take it, he hadn’t spared a thought for her innocence. What knowledge could she have had of lovemaking with no female relatives to inform her?
Bracing his hands on either side of her tumbled curls, he reined in his urges with great effort while nuzzling her stricken features. “Forgive me, dearest. Are you all right?”
As she cautiously wiggled her hips, the bud of a smile began to bloom on her lips and the ardent fire again lit her eyes. “Yes, perfect.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw. “I never imagined anything so wonderful, Guy … we are truly one.”
Truly one.
Those adoring words wrapped around his heart and intensified the scorching demands of his loins. Abandoning thought and reason to the irresistible allure of passion, he thrust into her slowly at first to ensure her pleasure. Much to his gratification, Tessa displayed an eager readiness, and her enthusiasm made his own excitement build to a fever pitch.
As she lifted her hips to receive him, he drove harder and quicker until she was gasping, begging, moaning as they moved in perfect rhythm. The delicious torture grew for timeless moments until her ecstatic cry of release hurled him to the edge. Only by a thread of awareness did he have the presence of mind to withdraw to spill his seed in hot spurts of rapture against her thigh.
The blissful pulsations waned, leaving him sprawled with Tessa in a haze of idyllic exhaustion. In unison with his, her rapid heartbeat gradually evened out along with her erratic breaths. She snuggled her cheek against his shoulder as her desultory fingers stroked over his back. He could not recall a time when he had ever felt so perfectly replete.
We are truly one.
No, they were not one, Guy knew with a pang. She had said that while in the throes of desire and must soon recall the impossibility of their situation. But he was feeling too good to spoil the moment with thoughts of tomorrow.
He raised his head slightly to give her a lazy grin. “I hope our tryst has met with Cinderella’s approval,” he said, brushing a spun-gold lock of hair from her cheek. “Though I fear you’ve fractured the story again.”
“How so?”
“I very much doubt,” he said, tracing her rosy lips with his finger, “that Cinderella seduced the prince. Not, of course, that I’ve any objection.”
Her eyes sparkled like stars. “It seems to me that we seduced each other. I merely helped by shutting the door.”
He chuckled. “Minx. So that artful stumble was done on purpose.”
Tessa regarded him with a flirtatious tilt of her head. “Naturally. I knew that you wouldn’t have closed it.”
Guy marveled at how often she managed to surprise him. It was one of the many traits that set her apart from other women. “Allow me to express just how thrilled I am that you did.” He lifted her hand to his lips and grazed a kiss across her knuckles. “Now, if you’ll wait here a moment.”
He disentangled himself and walked across the study to fetch a folded handkerchief from an inner pocket of his coat. On his return, Tessa reclined on her elbow while eyeing his naked form. There was a furtive quality to her scrutiny that stirred tenderness in him. For all her boldness, she could also display a natural shyness that wrapped silken threads around his heart.
Sentiment was a dangerous quagmire, he reminded himself. It was best to view this encounter as a moment out of time. An infatuation and nothing more.
Turning his mind to a more practical matter, Guy sat down beside her and gently wiped away the remnants of their union. “I took care not to spill my seed in you. So there shall be no consequences nine months from now.”
Her eyes widened, and she brought her arm across her bare bosom. “I hadn’t considered…”
“Passion has a way of overriding rational thought. I believe we both can attest to that.”
He also knew that was precisely why they could not continue to meet like this. It was unfair of him to take any risks with her future. In fact, by society’s standards, he should dismiss her from his employ. Yet he couldn’t—wouldn’t—do so. Tessa oughtn’t suffer for his own breach of conduct. And losing her was not something he wished even to contemplate.
As he leaned forward to lift her arm from her beautiful bosom, Guy’s attention was caught by a glint of gold. Her necklace had fallen to one side and hung suspended over the curve of one breast. From his present perspective, the firelight perfectly illuminated the tiny coat of arms.
Suddenly jarred, he picked up the pendant to examine the engraving more closely. “I forgot all about this. But I believe I saw this insignia tonight.”
Tessa came alert. “Are you sure?”
“There’s one way to find out.”
He stepped into his breeches and hastened to the desk, where he sat down and began to page through the thick heraldry book.
Tessa came hurrying to his side. It did not escape his notice that she had drawn on her gown without bothering with undergarments. Nor could he be unaware of her tantalizing scent and tempting closeness. But his keen interest in her must be set aside until he’d untangled this mystery.
He focused his attention on the book. “What is unique about your pendant is the griffins. At first glance the other day, I mistook them for dragons. Because of the wings, you see.”
“The wings?”
“In heraldry, the English usually portray the griffin with the wings closed. But on yours, the wings are open.” He glanced up at her. “Would you mind very much to remove the pendant so that I might see it better?”
Tessa drew the necklace over her head and placed it on mahogany surface of the desk, where it lay bathed in the glow of the candelabrum.
In short order, he found the proper page and used the magnifying glass to compare the sketch to the pendant. “Yes, by God, these are one and the same. There are the winged griffins on either side, the crossed swords, the coronet at the top, and at the bottom, the motto, VIRTUS.”
“Whose is it?” Tessa asked, leaning over in an attempt to view the fine print.
Guy stared down at the family name. He found it highly unlikely that this elderly lord could be Tessa’s father. Surely the fellow was too much the stuffy Puritan to have sired a child out of wedlock. Perhaps the pendant had come into her mother’s hands by some other means.
He lifted his troubled gaze to Tessa. “The coat of arms belongs to one of my grandfather’s old political cronies. The Marquess of Marbury.”
“The Marquess of Marbury,” she repeated in a reverent tone. A stunned smile on her lips, she fell into the chair on the other side of the desk. “Oh, Guy. I can scarcely believe it. You’ve found my father.”
He hardly knew how to reply. Tessa had looked forward to this discovery for a long time. It was the very reason she’d taken the post of governess in his house. Yet he couldn’t bear to think of her being sorely disappointed.
He reached across the desk to enfold her dainty hand, rubbing his thumb across the back. “Tessa, you can count on my help in this matter, but I also must warn you. Marbury is the very definition of a curmudgeon. He’s an elderly recluse who may deny ever knowing your mother.”
“He can’t deny it. Not when I have the pendant as proof.”
“Then he may accuse her—or even you—of stealing it. And even if you do conv
ince him, he’s tight-fisted. He’s not likely to be willing to fork over funds for your millinery shop.”
A martial light lit her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
Despite her confidence, Guy couldn’t shake the worry that Marbury would reject Tessa as his bastard daughter. By God, he must do everything in his power to keep the marquess from breaking her heart.
Chapter 15
The following morning, after placating Sophy with a promise to read her an extra story upon her return, Tessa made her escape from the nursery. Carlin’s note had given her little time to prepare. Fearing to be late, she raced down the servants’ staircase and arrived at the entrance hall to see him approaching from the opposite corridor with his secretary.
The duke afforded her a distracted nod. “Have those papers ready for my signature upon my return.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Banfield took one glance at Tessa’s shawl and bonnet, and his gray eyes sharpened. “Miss James is to go out with you?”
“Yes.”
“Might I inquire as to your destination?”
“No, you may not.”
As Carlin turned to accept his curled beaver hat and tan gloves from Roebuck, Tessa was thankful that he’d dismissed secretary’s intrusive question. She was acutely aware of the butler’s slight elevation of one starchy eyebrow, and Mr. Banfield’s more obvious disapproval. Clearly, it was unfitting for a duke to set forth with his daughter’s governess. Though neither man could know about that tryst the previous evening, nor about Lord Marbury being her father, the situation still made her quake when she was nervous enough already about meeting the marquess.
As Carlin escorted her down the front steps and handed her into the waiting carriage, she could not even enjoy the rare treat of riding in a fine vehicle with crimson brocaded upholstery, squabs as soft as clouds, and gold-tasseled blinds drawn back from sparkling windows. She gripped her gloved fingers in her lap and drew several deep breaths in an effort to calm her thrumming heartbeat. But it was no use. She still felt anxious and uneasy, her future in a turmoil.