by Tessa Bowen
Chapter Fourteen
Trevor hid his bloodied face in his handkerchief. He cursed under his breath as red splattered down the front of his tuxedo shirt.
“Sit down.” she ordered. “We have to clean you up.”
She dragged him into the elegant bathroom of their suite and shoved him up against the sink. He observed her with amusement as she rifled the medicine cabinet. Trevor noticed she had a giant run in her stocking. It went nicely with the torn sleeve of her gown. She was making quite a mess of the tidy countertop, flinging wrappers and bottles everywhere, cursing up a blue streak. Finally, she produced a first aid kit and placed it in his lap. Then she snatched a washcloth and dampened it under the tap.
Izzy stood between the Duke’s open legs and gently pressed the cloth to his face. The blood had slowed, but it was crusted over the top of his lip—she made out the freckles across his nose and smelled the mist of Venice clinging to him. Tenderly, she wiped his face clean. She worshipped his features, from the russet brows to the corner of his beautiful grey eyes, down the aristocratic bridge of his nose and around the corner of his mouth (that same mouth she had been lucky enough to steal a kiss from not so long ago). With a sigh, she continued her careful ministrations, running the cloth along the strong line of his jaw and over his high, elegant cheekbones—down the column of his neck, finally stopping at his collar.
He waited for her to finish with the alcohol and first aid ointment, then his hands came around her waist. They stared at each other a moment too long and he was just about to pull away when she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. The Duke rested his chin on top of her head. Izzy let out a sigh and tightened her grip around his neck.
It was torture pulling away. He knew she would be wearing that stricken, heartbroken expression. He cupped her face in his big hand and stroked a thumb across the delicate curve of her cheek. He had done a good job of acting the part of the perfect gentleman tonight. He’d better excuse himself before the werewolf resurfaced. He wouldn’t make the same mistake with her again.
“Good night, Isabel. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
He rose and left her there, not daring to look back. About an hour later, iPad in hand, the Duke started to nod off. A thump against the wall roused him, followed by a cry.
He was out of the bed in a flash. “Isabel, are you all right?”
When he heard another moan, he burst into the room. He found her twisted up in the sheets, flailing quite violently. He flipped on a small lamp and shook her awake.
“Wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
She came to, her eyes wide with fear. She clung to him, gasping for breath.
“You’re safe now,” he soothed. “There, there.”
“It was so dark!”
The strain on her face was like a knife in his heart. He pulled her into his embrace, feeling her heart thunder against his chest. “It’s over. You’re awake now.”
“It was a really bad one,” she wheezed.
“What happened tonight in the street—did it frighten you?”
She wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweat shirt. “No, not at all. I just…I just get nightmares sometimes. I don’t dream about anything in particular. It’s just all blackness and I can’t get out. I know it’s dumb, but I’m still…”
“Afraid of the dark?”
She nodded bashfully.
“You told me that before. Why didn’t you sleep with a light on then?”
“I didn’t want you to see it under the door. I’m…embarrassed.”
He soothed her with long, comforting strokes down her back. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, sweet girl. The light won’t bother me.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “What did you just call me?”
His hands dropped from her and he looked away. “Now I’m the one who’s embarrassed. It just tumbled out.”
“I’ve never been anyone’s sweet girl before.”
“My mother called me sweet boy when we were alone together. I never called Charlotte that, because she’s not really…well…” He trailed off with a smile. “She’s not really sweet, is she?”
Izzy inhaled a shaky breath and let out a soft laugh on the exhale.
“Let me get you a glass of water.” He started to rise, but she held him by the arm, fidgeting with the sleeve of his dressing gown.
“No, I’m okay now.”
She pulled the covers up around her and laid back. Her hair was jet black against the pristine white sheets. Her head looked tiny nestled in the oversized pillow.
“I can sit in that chair over there until you fall asleep, if you like?”
She shook her head. The color was coming back to her cheeks as she chewed her lip. He could tell she was still ashamed.
“Really, it’s no trouble. That’s what I do when Charlotte has a bad dream. She doesn’t like me to lie in the bed with her. She says I take up too much room, but she likes me to sit in the chair… ”
She gave him a little smile. “I’ll be fine.”
He rose and tightened his robe. “Yes, you will be fine. You won’t be having any more nightmares. Not ever.”
“I won’t?”
“No, you’re all through with that.”
“I am? How do you know?”
“I’m a bloody Duke, that’s how I know.” He walked over to the door and threw her a wink over his shoulder. “I’ll be the only nightmare in your life from now on.”
HOURS LATER, Izzy lay in bed wide awake, her mind spinning with thoughts of him.
Sweet girl, he had called her.
She knew he felt something for her, she was sure of it. In any case, she was through hating him and had gone back to being totally crazy about him. The rancor of the past seemed long gone, swept away in the hazy mist of Venice.
Izzy pushed back the bedcovers and threw open the windows, sucking in a great big breath. She could smell the saltwater in the air. The mournful echo of a foghorn sounded in the distance. Below, a couple hurried through the night speaking in the lilting Venetian tongue. It was almost two in the morning. The lights from the canal glittered in the distance.
Her body ached for the man in the next room. She wanted to be close to him in all ways. It tormented her that he was only a wall away. Izzy didn’t want to be a virgin anymore and tonight was definitely the night to do something about it. She wanted him to be her first.
He’s the friggin’ Devil Duke after all. No one is more qualified for the job.
She was smart enough to know that her days with the Duke were numbered. She might be called on again in the future, but she would never have this chance again—the chance of a lifetime. She wouldn’t let him turn her away this time. In fact, if he tried to deny her, she’d kill him.
Plain and simple.
She opened the adjoining door. The room was filled with his scent. She made out his shape in the darkness. He lay on his back with his head turned away from her. The covers were pushed down to his waist, the robe long gone. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the top of his proper Englishman’s pajama bottoms—white with a sedate blue stripe. There was nothing sedate about his bare chest, however.
Shimmering light flooded through the window, basking his statuesque torso in a silver wash. The planes of his extraordinary body looked like they were hewn of marble, all smooth and hard and white. When he let out a sigh, she froze. He turned his head to the other side, nestling his cheek into the pillow. Izzy held her breath. Was it possible he was even more handsome asleep? His features looked softer in slumber, the austerity had melted away to reveal a more forgiving countenance.
Izzy had never been so graceful in all her life. There were countless objects she could have tripped over in the room, but tonight she was a stealthy hunter. It took only three steps to reach his side. Carefully, she pulled the sheets back and crawled into bed with him, settling her body against his. He stirred as she nuzzled him with her lips and the tip of her nose. When the snug
gling turned to soft kisses she heard him moan deep in his throat. A mixture of lust and triumph swelled in her belly as his arms came around her waist—his hands snaked lower to caress over her bottom. Izzy pressed her lips to his, glad when they opened beneath her insistent pressure. She slipped her tongue into the Duke’s warm, velvety mouth and nestled close.
Trevor was half awake now. Some deliciously soft woman lay atop him, making love to him with her sweet mouth. The Duke groaned louder as the female’s flesh melded to his own. Wanting to feel bare skin, he pushed his way past the sheer panties to cup her smooth, supple flesh. A pair of perfect small buttocks filled his palms.
His eyes snapped open, searching the darkness. He knew it was Isabel even before his eyes fully adjusted—he had the taste of her on his tongue. He shook his head to clear it, even as she spread passionate kisses across his neck and chest.
“Isabel…what are you doing?” he whispered hoarsely.
“I want to have sex with you.”
Her bold declaration brought a fresh wave of blood to the wrong place. Falling back on the pillow, he crushed her to him, joining her in a ravenous kiss. Just as he was gathering the strength to pull away, she reared up and pulled her nighty over her head, tossing it aside. Her skin was like buttery satin against his. Her sleek legs were spread wide across him, her most intimate region burned hot against his hip—the wonderful dampness beckoned him.
Don’t do it, old boy…
He knew he could not let it go any further without losing control. It took all of the Duke’s moral fortitude to lift her off him. He did so in one swift motion. Placing her on her feet, he abruptly came to a sitting position and held her away from him. In his palm he gripped the night gown which fell like a curtain, concealing her body from him. That diaphanous scrap of fabric was a flimsy layer between him and the heavenly wonders of her female form.
“Isabel, go to your room,” he rasped. “We cannot sleep together.”
“Why not?”
“We’ve been through this, remember? I’m not supposed to be touching you anymore.”
“I touched you first this time.”
He lowered his face into his palms, letting loose the strangled cry of a tortured man. “Put your nightgown on and go.”
“Don’t you like it? I changed out of my sweatshirt for you. It’s from my ‘duchess’s wardrobe,’” she teased
“Isabel…”
The word was lost in time and space when he found himself staring at her luscious little body. She had not put on her nightgown. Instead, she had let the gossamer scrap fall to the floor and now stood there naked, save but her tiny knickers. He wanted to rip the things right off and dive head first into her wondrous triangle. He compromised by grabbing her around her hips and burying his face against her breasts. Hungrily, he sucked one of her erect nipples all the while his strong hands pressed her waist, arching her backward. She whimpered as he ravaged her flesh with bites and kisses. Her lusty moans drove him crazy. Trevor brushed his fingers across her parted lips. He loved the feel of her open mouth against his fingertips. He spread kisses lower over her soft belly. Both hands were on her hips now, working her panties down. Her flesh tasted like sugar and spice and a little bit like chocolate. He was a breath away from her dew-laden treasure—she’d probably taste so good it would break him. He should step away now, but damn it all, the Devil Duke had emerged and would not be stopped.
“If we do this, you can’t hate me for it later.”
“I won’t, but I should tell you…I’ve never done it before.”
Trevor laughed as his tongue circled her flat belly button. “I assume you mean with a duke?”
When she stiffened in his arms, silence roared in his ears. He raised his head and looked hard at her. “You’re joking, of course?”
“No, I’m not joking.”
There was no mistaking the innocence in her wide eyes. His hands fell away from her and he recoiled in horror, quite like he’d just touched a leper.
“Bloody hell, how can you be a…”
“Virgin?” she finished for him. “I told you I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I mean not a real one. I wanted to wait until I met the right person. So I did.”
He rose and began to pace. “You’re a bloody virgin.”
“Couldn’t you tell…I mean didn’t you know...?”
“No, I couldn’t tell! Your skirts are…are… infinitesimal!”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You’re so bloody forward and you accosted me in such a bold manner that night at the ball, I didn’t think….Oh, bloody hell—I don’t know what I thought.”
“You sleep with everyone else, what’s the big deal?”
He turned on her. “I’ve had my share of sexual escapades it’s true, but I’m not in the habit of defiling virgins.”
Quickly, she yanked the nightgown over her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop saying it like that. There is nothing wrong with being a virgin.”
The Duke pointed to the door. “You must go to your room this instant, do you hear me?”
“You’re kicking me out?”
He stalked toward her, wagging a finger. “You tricked me, you devious minx. You snuck into my room and crawled into my bed and you’re a bloody virgin.”
She had the audacity to laugh in his face. “God, get over it.”
The Duke completely lost his cool. The veins in his neck stood out as he raised his voice. “Do you have any idea what you are doing to me! You will drive me insane!”
“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore, okay!” she shouted back at him.
His hands curled into fists against his scalp. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“Come on, I’ll even wear knee socks if you want.”
The image blazed wantonly in his brain. “You mustn’t say things like that. I’m trying very hard not to get carried away, Isabel.”
“I want you to get carried away.”
“I’m trying to do bloody right by you, can’t you see that? I don’t want you to end up getting hurt.”
She shook her tiny fist at him. “You’re the one who is going to get hurt if you don’t do this for me. I’ll kill you! I’m serious!”
He drew back in bewilderment. “You want it that badly, do you? What’s gotten into you?”
“You have!”
“Not bloody yet I haven’t!”
She swallowed hard and he did too.
“Look, I know I’m not beautiful like the Baroness, but you said you liked me and you called my backside inspirational.”
“I was drunk,” he backpedaled weakly. “Wasn’t I?”
“Oh yeah, it was your champagne allergy talking, right?”
“Yes, that’s quite right.”
She stamped her tiny foot in frustration. “It’s not fair! You’ll have meaningless sex with all those other chicks, why won’t you have it with me?”
“You deserve better, especially for your first time.”
“It won’t be meaningless to me. I’m totally crazy about you.”
“You shouldn’t be crazy about me, Isabel. I’m the worst sort of fellow—really I am.”
“I don’t care.”
“Go back to bed like a good girl.”
“I don’t wanna be a good girl. I tried to sleep, I can’t.”
“Try harder. Count bloody lambs for God’s sake.”
“Don’t you mean sheep? Stop being such a fuddy duddy.”
“A man of my age rolling around with a…a…”
“Don’t friggin’ say it,” she warned.
“It’s just not right.”
“What’s right about this crazy world anyway—nothing—that’s what. I mean here I am in a hotel room with you.”
“You are so very young. I mean …you’re one year shy of being a teenager.” He gave her a worried glance. “It would appear I’m a weirdo pervert, after all.”
She came toward him like
a tiny panther stalking its prey. “I don’t mind that you’re a weirdo pervert. In fact, I kinda like it. And it’s good that you’re so much older. You can show me how to do dirty stuff.”
The Duke cowered against an arm chair, holding his hands up to protect himself from her advance. “Kindly remove yourself from my suite. I mean it—I’ll call the front desk.”
“And say what? You have a five foot ninety pound rapist in your room?”
“Bloody hell—you only weigh ninety pounds?”
“Well, I guess I weigh a hundred pounds since I got on the scones. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about scones, I wanna have sex.”
He shook his head. “I’ll break you into a million pieces like a little china doll. I’m not taking bloody Thumbelina to bed, do you hear me?”
She threw up her hands in annoyance. “You’re the one acting like a virgin! God!”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me—not at a time like this.”
“I’m not a friggin’ doll or a fairy or whatever, and I wasn’t born under a daffodil. I’m a woman, and I have needs. You get me all hot and bothered. Aaaaagghhhh! I can’t take it!”
“I’m rather out of sorts myself.”
“Let’s soooooorrrrt it out.”
“I won’t bloody do it, do you hear me—you rude, horrible girl!”
“I know you don’t think I’m totally horrible.”
“I do think you’re horrible and quite maddening as well.”
She let out a noisy sigh. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It doesn’t work anymore—that’s it, right? You have some sort of medical condition or something?”
The Duke’s spine went stiff as a ramrod.
“I guess that’s just what happens to old guys,” Isabel went on with unabashed gall. “That’s okay I’m sure Bryce can help me out when we get back to Devoy.”
The Duke let out a growl that made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. In the next second, she was the victim of a full frontal assault. He jerked her hard by the arm and turned her to face him. Then he slammed her against the wall, clamping a hand across her face.