Please say you’re interested in discovering that with me.
“I don’t want to look forward or to hope, for the disappointment if those things don’t happen will crush me.” Did she refer to his unspoken plea or her own thoughts? Did they border his? She tightened her hand in his. “In moments like this, I can almost forget what reality is, how I yearn for it to be. Please don’t mar the night with talk of the future.”
“All right.” He lapsed into silence, content to hold her until the waltz ended. A dose of cold disappointment circled through his gut as he escorted her back to the side of the room. His time with her was over all too soon, and he hadn’t been ready for it. What he wouldn’t give for an hour’s lesson with her. Those went by fast, of course, but not nearly as fleeting as a mere waltz. “Will you save me another dance?”
“Of course.” She held up her wrist where the card dangled from a white satin ribbon. “It seems my evening is quite free.”
“I can’t have the princess languish with the wallflowers,” he murmured, suddenly feeling absurdly gallant as he dashed off his name for one of the remaining waltzes. It wouldn’t happen until later in the evening though.
“Ah, what a charming knight you are.” Her eyes shifted to a darker shade of green. “I look forward to seeing you again.” There was no mistaking the need in those gorgeous depths.
Damn it, but he wished they were alone right now.
Samuel chose that moment to saunter over to them. He bounced a sly look between them. “Am I interrupting? I did so want to take Miss Harcourt out for this next set.” His waistcoat in a wild shade of peridot caught the eye, as did the matching stickpin in the snowy folds of his cravat. “That is, if you don’t mind, old chap.”
“I don’t, for the only reason that I trust you.” But his gut clenched when Louisa giggled and slipped her hand into Samuel’s outstretched one.
“I’ll have her back to your side in a thrice.” He winked at Louisa, who blushed. “Or not. She looks good enough to eat.”
Cecil bristled while Samuel laughed and escorted her onto the floor. “Damned bloody bastard.” Surely, he wouldn’t try to turn her head with his charm. Then he berated himself. Turn her head from whom? Him? She hadn’t acted as if she were enamored with him, and outside that glimpse of desire in her eyes, she’d said nothing to indicate such. Yet, why the bloody hell couldn’t she give him a clue?
He relaxed somewhat. No, he trusted his best friend. Louisa had nothing to fear—as did he—when she was in Samuel’s company. But he counted down the minutes she’d been away, followed her movements with his eyes until the hairs on his nape prickled and he started when his mother slipped to his side.
“She’s quite pretty,” she said in a conversational tone.
“You should see her when she’s not dressed in ballroom finery.” Nothing beat that sort of beauty.
“Oh?” Surprise filtered through his mother’s voice. “How often does that occur?”
“I didn’t mean...” Heat sneaked up the back of his neck. “What I meant to say was—”
“Hush, Cecil.” She laughed as she watched the dancers. “It’s good to see you so captivated by a woman again.”
“But I’m not...” He let his words trail off. Perhaps he was, dash it all.
“I’ve raised four boys and one girl. I think I know what I’m talking about.” She laid a hand on his arm. “If the two of you keep exchanging such heat-filled glances as you are now, your secret will soon be out, and you’ll find your name in the gossip sheets.”
“I wasn’t, she’s not... we’re not...” Good Lord, why was he having this conversation?
“Cecil.” His mother held his gaze, and he resisted the urge to tug on his suddenly too-tight collar. “If you wish for a few minutes alone in privacy, take her to the family parlor upstairs, but be sure you return to the ball in a timely manner.” When she winked, he gawked. “It simply won’t due to give the gossips ammunition.”
“Mother!” The heat of embarrassment roiled over him.
“You don’t think I know what my boys are up to at any given time, or that I’m opposed to a little scandal? I’m much more forward minded than that.” She tapped her temple with a forefinger. The ostrich feather in her upswept hair quivered as she laughed. “You’re besotted, my boy, and I’m so pleased.”
Oh, God. Were his feelings that obvious? “You’re wrong.”
“Mmm, that may be. Time will tell.” She patted his arm again. “You haven’t failed in life if you’ve found love again. And if you let it, that emotion can enhance what you already have.” Her smile turned sad. “I want you to be happy.”
So did he, but there was a risk involved he couldn’t forget. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Now, go. This set has ended, and Samuel is bringing your lady back.”
He only had eyes for Louisa but couldn’t help asking, “What are your plans for the evening?”
“At the moment, I’m promised to Samuel for the next dance. I aim to find out why he hasn’t had any luck with the ladies while I have him to myself.”
“Damn.” Poor Samuel. No sooner had Louisa smiled at him with flushed cheeks than his mother took his best friend’s arm and towed him onto the floor. Cecil looked at Louisa. “Are you parched? I can fetch you some punch or a glass of champagne.” He looked across the room toward the refreshment table. “Mother always requests it at these types of things.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled. “Samuel is a wonderful dancer.”
“And I’m not?” A twinge of jealousy flared in his chest.
“There’s nothing wrong with your execution. You’re a delight on the dance floor.” She dropped her voice so that he had to bend his head toward hers to catch her next words. “But I prefer your form and movements when boxing.”
Oh, God.
His pulse hummed through his veins in time to the sudden rush of sensation throbbing into his cock. That suggestion of his mother’s seemed a great idea. “Perhaps you’d enjoy a tour of the townhouse and a removal to a quieter area that’s less crowded?” To his credit, his voice didn’t break, and he got through the request without wanting to throw her over his shoulder and spirit her away.
“Now that does sound intriguing.” She slipped her hand through his crooked elbow. “Where shall we start?”
Kissing you senseless? Out loud, he said, “A slow stroll around the perimeter then we’ll make our exit.” There was no doubt about it, he’d lost his damn mind, and what was more, he didn’t care.
How deuced long did it take to make the circuit? He kept up a string of innate chatter as they walked, and with a surreptitious glance about the immediate area to see if anyone noted their progress, he tugged her through a doorway, and with a finger to his lips, pulled her along the corridors and up the polished wooden staircase that led to the third floor.
“Cecil, where are you taking me?” She clung to his hand while he encouraged her into a room toward the end of the hallway.
“Private family parlor.” A sense of giddy freedom fell over him as if he’d drunk too much champagne when he hadn’t had a drop. The room was doused in shadows. Two wall lamps burned at their lowest setting, but the anemic illumination didn’t reach farther than the cold fireplace. Obviously, the servants hadn’t expected anyone on this floor so early in the evening. No sooner had he closed the door behind them than he caught Louisa to him and claimed her lips.
Damn if she didn’t feel heavenly, and she was eager too, for she clung to his shoulders as he wrapped his arms about her.
When she broke the kiss, she was breathless, but her grin was brilliant. “That’s even more exciting than a dance.” She plucked at the buttons on his jacket and then his waistcoat. The fearlessness she displayed now emboldened him.
He half-growled, half-chuckled in response and pressed his lips to the sweet curve where her neck and shoulder joined. The silkiness of her skin proved too addicting, for his tongue glided all too easy over that satiny expanse as h
e moved to investigate her collarbones. A soft moan escaped her, the tiny sound firing his need. “Come.” Quickly, he yanked off his gloves and tossed them to the Aubusson carpet.
“Where?” Her eyes were clouded with the same desire gripping him, but a shiver racked her shoulders. She tugged the shirt tails from his trousers, and the moment she burrowed a hand beneath his clothes to touch his chest, he was lost.
“There.” Cecil scooped her into his arms. Her squeal went straight to his groin. Would she utter that sound during lovemaking? Four strides carried him to a low brocade sofa done in autumnal colors. He tumbled them both onto it, landing on his left side while encouraging her to recline on her back.
With her head supported by his arm and a bolster pillow, she gazed up at him with a heady mix of trust and longing. “What now?” Deep in the depths of her eyes, fear lurked, faint but there all the same.
As much as his body screamed continue, his heart held back. “Do you trust me?” he whispered and followed the question with a kiss to her temple.
“You’re the one person I trust implicitly.” She raised a hand and cupped his cheek. “Touch me, Cecil, like you would have in Hyde Park the other day if we weren’t in the open.”
“I won’t hurt you.” With his free hand, he danced his fingers around the lacy edge of her bodice, the ivory flesh tempting, her acceptance of him heady.
“I know.” She lifted her head up and kissed him. The softness of her lips distracted him, the glide of her tongue against his enough to make him forget his own name. How was it that this woman had made him change every view he had of all females?
With a groan, he kissed her back and at the same time tugged at the fabric of the bodice until her breasts popped free. “You’re beautiful bared like this.” He drew his lips along the column of her throat, over her collarbones and then downward until he took a pebbled nipple into his mouth.
A surprised moan escaped her, the sound music to his hears. She moved her hand to his nape, furrowing her fingers through his hair and guiding him to the other hardened, rosy tip even as she trembled, with fear or need he didn’t know. “Here.” As he pleasured that skin with tongue and teeth, she moaned again and closed her eyes. “It’s almost sinful how good that feels.”
And he was the man who opened her to that pleasure, to show her that not all men were pigs who would only take and never give. The sweetness of the victory plowed into him with the force of a blow. It stole his breath and he paused, searching out her gaze in the gloom. Desire pooled in her eyes, certainly, but there was another, stronger emotion beneath all of that he desperately wished to bring into clarity.
Would it mirror his own budding feelings?
She bent one leg at the knee, her skirting sliding up that limb. “You make me feel wanted and... valued.” Wonder threaded through the soft statement. “It’s...” Tears misted her eyes. “...different and amazing.”
Cecil lost another piece of his heart to her. “How much you’ve missed of life.” Again and again he kissed her, and as he explored every inch of her warm mouth, he caressed her leg, the silky skin of her inner thighs, and as she sighed and shifted slightly, he delved that hand further beneath her skirting to find the curls covering her sex.
Her gasp ruffled the hair at his temple.
“I won’t go further if you don’t will it.” Already, his prick was primed and ready, pushing against the confines of his trousers, but now was not the time nor the place to bed her. This night was for her alone.
“Yes.” She nodded. “My husband never did... that.”
“Then he was a damned fool.” He sucked one of her nipples, and as her back naturally arched, he slipped his fingers through those damp curls. The wetness of her flesh urged him to claim her body, but he denied it. This night was for her gratification, not his, to show her that there was much more to what happened between a man and a woman than the male rutting over the female, than desiring to reproduce, more to a man exerting his power.
It was an art, a sharing, and yes, in some forms it was worshipping the wonders of the female form. Cecil covered her chest, her cheeks, her lips with kisses as he quickly found the swollen nubbin that was the center of her pleasure.
A startled cry left her throat and she writhed from his attentions. That sound echoed through the chambers of his heart, through his mind, and he smiled. “Just wait.” He stared into her eyes, watching the emotions cross her face as he applied various degrees of friction to that all-important button.
Need, fear, and desire twisted with wonder and pleasure. Louisa restlessly moved her hips, bumping his hand, putting her more firmly into position. “Oh!” She gasped, her head thrown back, and her moans came faster as her breathing labored. Then her body stiffened, her thighs quivering.
“Shit.” Quickly, Cecil claimed her lips and took her screams into himself. What he wouldn’t give to feel those contractions around his cock, to let her scream out her pleasure without the need to censure it, but there was plenty of time for that. He withdrew his hand, and when she turned into him, clung to him, he put his arms around her. Tears wet his neck above his collar. “You’re crying. Why?” Pulling slightly back, he peered into her tear-stained face, his heart pounding with fear. “Did I hurt you?” God, he shouldn’t have taken advantage.
“These are happy tears.” She tried to laugh, but it was a watery affair. “I’ve never had...” With a sigh, she shrugged. Moisture spiked her dark lashes. “That was the first time a man has made me spend. It took me by surprise.”
Male smugness gripped him. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.” Louisa closed her eyes and laid back, her head on the bolster pillow once more. “Very much, even more so because I experienced it with you.” Never had he seen a more beautiful sight than the contented satiation on her face. “You’re amazing, Cecil.”
He caught a tear with his thumb. “I try.” Shock moved through him. Her fragile vulnerability in that moment tore at his heart. Louisa’s future was uncertain, but there was one thing he knew as the truth.
I’m in love with her. And he would do everything in his power to help her gain the freedom she deserved so much.
But would she need him after that? He wouldn’t swoop in and solve her problem merely because he could. That would cheat her of everything she’d worked toward. Relationships weren’t as easy as navigating a boxing ring, but those challenges were no less intoxicating.
“We should return before someone comes searching for us.” The want to tell her what he felt grew strong, but fear held his tongue. What if she ultimately turned out to be like his last foray into romance?
Is the risk greater than the reward?
Her eyes opened. The green depths sparkled. “You won’t leave me tonight, will you?”
Not unless I’m dead. “I’ll stay by your side for as long as you need me.” He hoped to God she heard the words he couldn’t say.
Chapter Fourteen
Louisa scarcely felt as if her feet touched the floor as Cecil whisked her about the ballroom in their second waltz of the evening. Did he care that in doing so, he’d practically proclaimed his interest in her before society? Or was he merely being kind now that he knew how much she enjoyed dancing?
Perhaps the reasoning behind it didn’t matter, for he was as skilled in this as he was at boxing, and as he swept her through each turn and movement, all the ills she’d suffered in her life slowly faded into the background. Finally, at the ripe old age of thirty, she had a chance at happiness.
If for a moment.
“Will I see you tomorrow for our next scheduled boxing lesson?” She adored the trace of stubble clinging to his jaw and chin, and she cursed the fact that she wore gloves which had prohibited her from feeling that tantalizing rasp against her palms earlier. And what he’d done to her in that parlor not a quarter hour ago still sent tingles of delight down her spine.
Never had she been so thoroughly desired by a man as she had been under Cecil’s expert handling. Wha
t was more, the gentleness of his touch, the care and concern he’d exhibited every step of the way had stolen the remaining pieces of her heart. To him, it didn’t matter that she was broken or mangled on the inside. He looked at her as if she were the most valuable piece of glass he’d ever seen or worked with.
Was that emotion true or was it a product of this night?
“Is there a cataclysmic event due to take place that would prevent that from happening?” For the first time since she’d met him, his gruff exterior had cracked, revealing a man with a sense of humor, a man with hope in his heart. The grin he bestowed on her sent awareness skittering over her skin and flutters through her belly. A man who didn’t hold himself away from people any longer.
“I don’t believe so, but I wanted to confirm.” The steps demanded her concentration. Worry wormed its way into her happiness. She focused her gaze on the folds of his cravat, not as pristine as they had been before the interlude in the parlor, though he had put himself more or less to rights. “I was afraid you might have changed your mind,” she admitted in a soft voice.
Heavy rain drummed against the windowpanes. She glanced away with a sigh. Autumnal rains were always so mournful, while this night was anything but.
“Why?” Cecil tightened his hold slightly at the small of her back, which brought her closer to him, but her attention was distracted. Rain meant the baron wouldn’t wish to visit his clubs this evening... Softly, he cleared his throat, scattering her thoughts. “Have you not been convinced of my devotion to you in every aspect by now?”
Warmth filled her cheeks while a silly little seed of hope bloomed in her heart. “Perhaps you might not wish to spar further now that you...” She blew out a breath that ruffled an escaped tendril of hair over her brow. “Now that we did...”
Trimmed in Blue Page 14