The Art of Stealing a Duke’s Heart: Thieves of Desire Book 1

by St. Clair, Ellie

  He sank his hands into her hair, his fingers gripping her scalp as he held her head tilted up toward him while he feasted on her mouth. Their tongues tangled in mutual assault that was just as much a promise of what more there was to come. Calli welcomed the taste of brandy and chocolate on his tongue, and were this any other situation, she would have laughed to know that even His Grace indulged in a sweet now and again.

  Although she supposed that was what he was doing right now.

  He broke from her mouth as abruptly as he had claimed it, his breathing ragged as he continued to hold her head in his hands, while he now stared deeply into her eyes.

  “Calli,” he said, his voice husky with desire, “if we do this, I—I don’t know what promises I can make, or what I can keep, and I never give my word unless I know with the utmost certainty I can uphold it.”

  Calli nodded. She knew all of this, and as much as she wished they lived in a different world, one in which she was a woman who would be worthy of him, for far more reasons than the difference in their stations, this was the way it had to be.

  “I understand,” she said softly.

  “I don’t want to ruin you,” he said, uttering a curse, and Calli smiled sadly.

  “You’ve already ruined me for every other,” she said, “for there is no other man I shall ever want with as much desperation as I want you.”

  “So be it,” he groaned before backing up toward the bed, taking her hand and pulling her along with him.

  The room was grand, Calli dimly noted through the haze of her thoughts. One huge, beautiful painting of a sunset that looked as though it belonged just outside the window was the only adornment on the largest wall, while the fire from the ornate marble hearth on the opposite side of the room danced light upon the planes of Jonathan’s chiseled face.

  The bed itself was nearly as big as Calli’s entire bedroom at home, thick green canopies cascading down from above them. Calli felt as though she was entering a forbidden inner sanctuary, the thought causing her pulse to race even faster than it already was.

  Jonathan kept his eyes on her as he began to unbutton his jacket, throwing it to the side with a casualness most unlike him. Calli was suddenly quite grateful for Diana’s forethought to pack dresses that she was able to fasten and unfasten herself, and she reached around her back for the overly large buttons.

  “No,” Jonathan said, shaking his head with command. “Let me.”

  He swiftly stepped around her, behind her, his fingers making deft work of the buttons, although he didn’t push the dress down over her shoulders — not yet, apparently. His cravat and his waistcoat followed his jacket, and Calli couldn’t imagine anything more seductive than the scene in front of her.

  She stepped up, unable to keep herself from participating any longer, and began to slip the buttons out of the holes of his linen shirt.

  He said nothing, though Calli could feel his gaze upon her. When she was finished, he pulled it up, over his head, and Calli took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of her. She had felt the skin of Jonathan’s chest before, but she hadn’t realized just what was awaiting her. He looked like the Greek statues she had admired in the baron’s parlor — chiseled perfection, although much more alive, as his chest pumped up and down in time with his rather quick breaths, and Calli placed a hand over his heart to feel it beat against her palm.

  “Wondering whether it works?” he asked, his voice gruff yet laced with a bit of laughter.

  “I know it does,” Calli said softly. “I just wanted to feel its strength.”

  He didn’t respond, but kissed her again, his hands sweeping down her back as he now pushed the dress down over her shoulders, leaving her in her stays and her chemise.

  His hands encircled her waist before he removed the stays with an ease that caused Calli to wonder how many times he had done so before, but soon she didn’t care, for he had pulled her against him and she could feel the wondrous heat of his body along the entirety of her torso.

  Jonathan scooped her up, turning around with her in his arms until he deposited her on the bed, and in the moment between when he left her there and then returned to her, she missed his closeness with a ferocity that scared her.

  But soon enough, he was back, his hands sweeping over her face as though she was one of his priceless treasures.

  “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he whispered with awe, and Calli’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen — been with — women far more beautiful.”

  “Never,” he said, before dropping a kiss on her beauty mark, one that Diana told her was enticing but that Calli had always wanted to be rid of. He trailed kisses down her face, over her shoulder, pushing down the strap of her chemise, covering the now-bared skin with his kisses.

  He repeated the gesture over and over, inching the chemise down one fingerbreadth at a time, following with his mouth.

  Calli moaned and arched up into him when he reached her breasts, but after one quick kiss on each he continued downward. He completely ignored the very place she ached for him — deliberately, she was sure — and followed with kisses over her hipbones to her knees, where she never knew such sensitive places lurked, and down until he placed one last kiss on her ankle.

  “You’re a tease,” she hissed, and when he reared up before her, his eyes were dark.

  “Am I?”

  “You are,” she said. “Come here and kiss me properly.”

  He did just that, kissing Calli until she could barely think straight, until she hardly remembered who she was anymore.

  Which was just fine with her.

  His hands danced over her body as he played with her mouth, as she arched up toward him, needing more but unsure of just exactly what that more was.

  He knew, though.

  Finally, one of his hands found the very place she wanted him, his thumb coming to the bundle of nerves, rubbing, circling, teasing, as he slipped one finger into her, and then another. Calli knew from last time what magnificence he could evoke from his hand, but she wanted more, and she lifted her head away from him and told him so.

  “Very well,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

  Calli realized then that he was still wearing his breeches, and he sat up and away from her, undoing the fastenings before inching out of them.

  She could only stare.

  Yes, she had seen many statues and paintings and was no stranger to what the male form looked like.

  But never had she seen it in… well, in such glory.

  When she returned her gaze to Jonathan’s, he was smirking as though he recognized her appreciation, although she also held a fair bit of concern.

  “So, ah, what is the plan?” she asked, uncertainty and longing at war.

  “For once, Calli,” he said, dropping down next to her so she could no longer see him, his breath hot against her ear, causing her to shiver, “there is no plan. We just do what feels right.”

  “Very well,” she said, the words so quiet she almost didn’t hear them herself.

  “And if something doesn’t feel right,” he continued, “then we stop.”

  She could only nod.

  He kissed her as he settled between her thighs, her legs parting for him as though they already knew what to do. Her hips arched up to him, and he eased himself forward until she could feel him at her entrance. Then he slowly, gently, pushed into her, and Calli froze for a moment at the intrusion.

  Jonathan seemed to understand as he didn’t rush things, pausing and then resuming, until he was fully seated within her.

  And then Calli didn’t feel so frozen anymore.

  “All right?” he asked, his words guttural as a bead of sweat broke out on his brow, and Calli nodded, clutching his shoulders so hard she wondered whether she would leave indents in his skin.

  He didn’t seem to care, as he began to slowly pump, in and out, one large hand palming a breast while his fingers teased her nipple, the other entwine
d in her hair, which fanned out on the pillow behind her.

  “Calli,” he groaned as she gasped at all of the new sensations that filled her, her every thought and response now wrapped up in him.

  He filled her in more ways than one — yes, physically, but also in all of her senses, all of her thoughts, all of her emotions.

  As he drove into her and made her feel as though she was being utterly possessed by him, she realized that one time with him was not going to solve everything and satisfy her for the rest of her life.

  For she was always going to want this — with him — for as long as she could breathe.

  The thought caused everything within her to quicken — her breath, her pulse, her nearness to completion.

  “Jonathan,” she groaned, clutching him before the waves began to wash over her once more and her world came apart.

  Jonathan responded to her release with a shout, and just as the wave began to ebb, he pulled out of her and spent on the bedsheets beside her.

  He rolled over onto the other side of her, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her near.

  “Calli,” he whispered in her ear, “are you all right?”

  “That was indescribable,” she said, not answering his question, knowing that she would never be all right again, not when she knew what she knew now, of what it was like to be with him, and yet also what was awaiting them in the future.

  “It was,” he agreed, lying back on the pillow with one arm over his forehead.

  “Is it always like that?” she asked in wonder, and he chuckled slightly.

  “I’m not much of a rake myself,” he said, his fingers playing with her hair in a manner that made her close her eyes and relax into him, “but I can say with all assurance that from what I know, it is almost never like that.”

  Calli smiled in satisfaction as she snuggled into his side.

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He looked over at her, studying her, his lips still curled in a slight smile.

  “Who are you, Calliope Donahue?” he asked, “and just how have you bewitched me so?”

  Calli froze, staring up at the cherubs dancing on the ceiling, likely judging her, which they had every right to, as she sighed. Calliope Donahue. A non-existent woman.

  At least he knew her first name, and he called her by it so she didn’t feel like as much of a fraud as she would otherwise.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked, searching her mind now desperately for the story she had previously told him, trying to remember what she had shared.

  “You told me that you are from a family of merchants,” he gently prodded, and she nodded gratefully.

  “Yes, of course,” she said, deciding to tell him as much of the truth as she could. “My eldest brother has always been more like a father to the rest of us. Except that he… well he’s not really my brother.”

  “No?”

  She could tell Jonathan was attempting nonchalance, although his voice held a slight edge that Calli could only guess was distrust.

  “My brother — my true, blood brother — and I were orphaned as children. My eldest brother took us in, gave us a home, supported us,” she said. “I have another brother and sister who similarly became part of the family. We are all quite close.”

  “I see,” Jonathan said, lacing his hands behind his head as he stared upward as well. “How did you become a governess?”

  “I suppose you could say the profession caught me unawares,” she said, attempting levity, which seemed to work as Jonathan simply chuckled. “And you?” Calli asked, desperate to turn the conversation, wondering if Jonathan might be more vulnerable now that the two of them had been together.

  Jonathan didn’t say anything for a moment, lifting her hand, running a finger over her palm and each individual digit as though he could read all of the secrets within her through them.

  Finally, he spoke, his eyes still upon her. “One would think that, as a duke, I could have all I ever want.”

  Calli said nothing, hoping her silence would urge him on.

  “But the truth is, it is difficult to know exactly what one wants. And even when one thinks he is getting it, it turns out that it has nothing to do with him, but only one’s title.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked softly and he paused again. For a moment, Calli was worried she had taken a step too far.

  “I became a duke very young. Probably far too young. I wasn’t ready. Hadn’t learned enough from my father. I thought I knew everything.”

  He laughed, the bitterness evident.

  “I was wrong. Everyone wanted to be my friend, my advisor. I trusted the wrong people, did what they said. I lost so much.”

  He twined his fingers in between hers.

  “Money?”

  “Money, yes. Lots of it. On bad investments, gambling, horses.”

  “I thought you didn’t gamble.”

  “Not anymore. I used to think that I could beat the system, that I would always come out ahead. That I knew better, was smarter. I wasn’t.”

  Calli flipped over on her stomach so that she could better see his face.

  “But the worst of it was that I lost friends. People who I now realize that I could trust, I pushed away with my intensity to prove myself, prove I was right, even when they were telling me to take a step back.”

  “What about the rest of your family?”

  “My mother did everything she could to change my ways, but I refused to listen. Eventually she couldn’t watch it anymore and left for Bath. She never had much interest in me beyond my usefulness. I am the Duke of Hargreave to her, not… Jonathan. My sister was always too involved in herself — as you might have realized. She left her children in my safekeeping so that she wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving them for her new life, as she knew I would care for them.”

  “Do you mean financially?”

  He nodded. “They will want for nothing.”

  Except all they wanted was his love. Not that Calli was going to voice that aloud. That was for Jonathan to discover himself.

  “But you found your way back, did you not?”

  “For the most part, yes. I learned who to trust, made much wiser investments, and have earned back far more than I ever had at the time.”

  Calli sensed there was something he wasn’t saying and debated whether or not she should push. As she looked at him, however, she could sense the unease lurking behind his eyes, and wondered if this was something he needed to get out.

  “What else did you lose?”

  His eyes flew up to meet hers. “What do you mean?”

  “There seems to be something else… something that’s bothering you.”

  “I lost my sense of trust,” he said, the words just over a whisper as he dropped his gaze to the covering on the bed. “I was to be married.”

  “Oh,” Calli said softly, annoyed by how the news made her heart skip. “It obviously didn’t go forward?”

  He shook his head slowly. “The woman… I thought I loved her. She was everything I could ever want in a wife. She was beautiful. Elegant. Appreciated the ways of the nobility. Seemed to understand my every want and need.”

  “But?”

  “But I was being played. She was a young widow, but unbeknownst to me, was the mistress of one of my advisors. He told her everything she needed to know, and together they came up with a scheme that would see me marry her and then together they would slowly divest me of my riches.”

  “Oh, Jonathan.”

  “I caught them together. In one of the bedrooms of Wyndmere at a house party I was hosting.”

  Calli gasped, unable to imagine such a thing. “What did you do?”

  “Told them to get out of my house. It wasn’t until later that Davenport came to see me and told me the entire story. His father was close with the man. It was that day that we became friends.”

  “My goodness,” Calli murmured, looking down at her fingers as she picked at the threads of the coverlet.<
br />
  He brought a hand underneath her chin, tilted her head up to look at him. “I have to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For teaching me how to trust again.” He managed a slight, tremulous smile.

  And Calli’s heart broke.

  Chapter 18

  Jonathan didn’t hear his man of business enter his office the next day.

  When he looked up to find him sitting there on the other side of the desk in front of him, he nearly jumped out of his chair.

  “Shepherd! What are you doing here?”

  “Your butler announced me. I am here to follow up on details of the land acquisition.”

  “Ah, right,” Jonathan said, nodding his head, feeling the fool.

  “Is everything all right, Your Grace?”

  “Of course, never better. Why do you ask?”

  “Well…” Shepherd looked from one side to the other as though to make sure no one could hear him despite the fact they were alone. “You were humming.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were,” the man insisted, and Jonathan knew that he had to believe him, for Shepherd never, ever joked. “I have never heard you hum before.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would have,” Jonathan said, snapping his jaw shut, determined not to let it happened again. He knew exactly what he had been humming — the same song that Calli sung to herself when she didn’t know he was listening.

  He had to hide his smile as he thought back to the morning. She had fallen asleep in his bed, and he had to gently wake her up and re-dress her before he sent her on her way, wishing he could let her stay and treat her to a morning she was deserving of, one with warm chocolate and fresh biscuits, as she lay in his bed.

  He pictured her as she would look with the rising sun streaming in around her, her long curls strewn out around her head. What a sight she would be.

  “Your Grace?”

  His man of business brought him back to the present.

  “Yes, Shepherd, what was that?”

  “I said the sale has gone through and you are the new owner of the land that was previously adjacent to your estate.”