by Diana Ballew
“Trust me in this, my lady. A man is helpless against a fair woman’s charms.”
Isabella rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her matching slippers. “Really, Alice, if I was so beautiful, I would have at least one suitor, wouldn’t I?” She didn’t count the vile Mr. Dalton.
Alice sniffed. “Well, not when you keep yourself stuffed away here.” She clasped her hands together and sighed, looking up toward the ceiling. “Now, if you was in London, my lady, why, there you would have more beaux than you could shake a stick at.”
Isabella chuckled that deep rich sound that, unbeknownst to her, set Rafe’s blood boiling. “All right, Alice, if you say so.” She stood and inspected herself critically in the mirror. She wanted to make a lasting impression on Easton, one that might haunt him in far away London. She sighed. It would have to do.
“Well, don’t we all look dashing?” Whit chuckled, joining his friends at the bottom of the staircase.
“Of course we do, puppy.” Alex flicked a bit of lint from his sleeve. “And we’ve managed quite well without our valets.” He started to snort, but it turned into a choke as he looked over Whit’s head and saw his cousin descending the steps.
Rafe was momentarily alarmed, until he followed his friend’s line of sight. “Damn me.” He sucked in his breath, his heart feeling as if it had stopped altogether.
“What?” Whit turned and saw her. “Oh my.”
”Good evening.” She smiled, her eyes darting to Rafe.
“Good God, Bella!” Alex boomed out. “How the hell do you keep getting prettier each time I see you? I still can’t reconcile you with the skinny little dowd of a child I knew.”
“Pretty? You’re understating it, old man.” Whit looked her up and down. “She’s bloody gorgeous. Puts poor Miss Lisbeth to shame.”
Isabella laughed. “Nonsense! Beth is by far prettier than I, she’s just not here to distract you, is all.” She glanced again at Rafe. “Enough silliness. Let us go and enjoy your parting feast.”
Rafe was in a bad way and the evening had only just started. His body had reacted the instant he had seen her gliding toward them. She was a vision tonight. The rich bronze gown made her skin glow warmly and her eyes appear more emerald, not to mention how it complimented her glorious hair, which hung down her back, except for a few tendrils curling over her delightful breasts. As he followed the others, he watched the fine silk move seductively with the sway of her hips. The smell of her perfume wafted back; he was more randy than a tomcat and he hadn’t even touched her! His self-control would be sorely tested tonight, especially knowing this would be the last time he saw her.
The others were already seated, with Isabella at the head of the table. Rafe took the chair next to Alex, relieved to have a little distance between him and their exquisite hostess. He reminded himself that he had only to make it through this last evening and then he would be beyond her temptation. For some reason, it did not cheer him.
Isabella nodded for dinner to be served.
The footman, whom Rafe had been drinking with in the kitchen only days ago, filled a plate for him from the sideboard. Rafe’s eyes flew to Isabella’s face as he was served. By God, the little vixen! Memories flooded his mind of that evening only a week past, when they had shared their first meal together – and an extremely passionate encounter. Yes, he could tell by her look, she was remembering how she had melted in his arms.
“Ah! Bloody well done, cousin!” Alex looked up, grinning like a loon. “Duck with raspberry sauce! It’s one of your favorites, isn’t it, Rafe, me boy?”
Rafe couldn’t help it. He saw Isabella’s luscious lips quiver and he started laughing. She was quick to join him.
“What’s so humorous, you two?” Alex gave them a cross look, then turned to Whit. “What’d I miss?”
Whit smiled. “Don’t worry, Alex. They’ve just been in the country too long.”
“Apparently so, old boy, apparently so.”
All too soon it seemed, dinner was over, the time having flown by as they joked and teased each other as only good friends could. Isabella saw the gentlemen into the drawing room, then excused herself. Alex did the same a moment later. Whit poured three brandies and handed one to Rafe, who was leaning against the mantle, feeling quite smug.
“So, my friend, ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’?” Whit retrieved a glass for himself.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Alex will make you marry her, if he ever sees past the end of his nose.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rafe gave Whit a look most men would have quelled at. He did not want to discuss the lady, or what might be between them, with his friend. It was none of his damn business.
The other man only snorted. “Don’t give me that look, old friend. I’m no danger to you. It’s her that’s trouble.” He shook his head. “I’m certainly not calling her virtue into question. She doesn’t even know she’s a peril to you. But, you’re panting after her, Rafe and that’s not like you. Not at all like you.”
Rafe gave a snort of contempt. “Good God, you make it sound as if I’m trying to seduce her.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No! It’s just that,” Rafe raked his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture, “she is so bloody irresistible! I mean, how could she ever have thought she was plain? Dear Lord! Just look at her!” Rafe took a swig of his drink.
“And, that dress. Bloody hell, it leaves nothing to the imagination.” He caught Whit’s stunned expression. “What?”
“Oh, God, you’ve got it bad!” The viscount doubled over laughing, his brandy spilling onto the floor.
“Damnation,” Alex said, striding into the room. “Why on earth are you dumping that fine liquor onto me cousin’s carpet, puppy? Are you already foxed?”
“He’s just extremely odd, Alex.” Rafe’s dry tone was back. Whit was being absurd, indeed. Well, perhaps he was right. He was rather taken with Isabella. But, who wouldn’t be, the way she exuded sexual appeal? Alex had been right earlier, how it seemed to grow on you, this damn charm of hers’.
Isabella walked in just then.
“Ah, there is the lovely lady now.” Whit snickered then, seeing both of his companions’ glare at him and managed to swallow his amusement, though his brown eyes still sparkled with humor.
“Am I the brunt of some joke?” Isabella looked at the three in turn.
“Not at all, my lady,” Rafe assured her, smoothly. “Whit just had something confused in his small brain matter.” He gave his friend a challenging smile. “But, that’s all cleared up now, isn’t it?”
“Of course, don’t give it another thought.” Whit pressed his lips together and walked to the bar to refill his brandy. “Here, Alex, I poured you one already.” He handed the drink to the other man.
“Me thanks. Now, will you play for us, me dear Bella?”
Isabella and Rafe exchanged looks.
“I’m not very adept, cousin.”
“Well, at least you could sing for us, couldn’t you?”
“The truth is, my voice is only barely passable.”
“Damnation, Bella! You can run this bloody estate but you can’t entertain in the drawing room? Whit, go and amuse us.”
Whit sat down at the harpsichord and played a lovely Irish ballad. Isabella took the place beside her cousin on the sofa and Rafe continued to lounge against the mantle.
“Ah, there,” Alex said when the song ended, “that’s the way to round out the evening. Another brandy and then I think it’s off to bed for us, me gents. We have to be up and off tomorrow.”
Isabella looked at Rafe.
“I think I shall take a stroll in the garden before I retire, gentlemen. I bid you all goodnight and I’m sure I will see you at breakfast, before you leave.” She smiled at them, a bit pained. She kissed Alex on the cheek, allowed Whit to kiss her hand, but only nodded at Rafe. “Until tomorrow.”
“Sleep well, me dear.” Alex smiled after her fondly. “What a lovely girl. I shall have to start thinking about a match for her. Lord knows there’s no-one out here suitable.”
The three finished their drinks and went up to bed. Rafe, alone in his room, began pacing. He paused and glanced toward the window. Resuming his pacing, he flung his coat off, not caring where it landed. Soon his cravat followed. After a few more minutes, and several more glances out the window and into the moonlit night beyond, he cursed fluently, then left his room, being careful to be quiet.
It was still warm outside as Isabella strolled among the roses. She leaned over a perfect white blossom and brushed the soft petals against her equally perfect lips.
“Sweet Bella.” Rafe said softly, so as not to startle her. The moon was bathing her in its pale light and he’d never seen her look more beautiful and more forlorn.
Isabella turned to gaze up at him. “Hello.”
He smiled. “Hello, yourself.” Without thought, he reached out to her.
She sighed as she stepped forward into his embrace. “I was afraid I wouldn’t have the chance to say goodbye to you alone. But you came.”
“Yes.” Rafe held her to him. He had agonized, those minutes in his room, whether or not to seek her out. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he, too, wanted this one last chance to be with her. “You’re trembling. Are you cold, love?” He held her closer and his body responded immediately to her soft curves.
“No.” She raised her face and stared at his mouth. “You make me tremble, Rafe.”
He groaned at her sweet words. “Bella, you know you are playing with fire.”
“Then let me be singed.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sifting through his hair as she pulled his head down to meet her eager lips. At the feel of her mouth, Rafe knew he was lost. Her lips parted and their tongues entwined, just as she had learned from him. He grasped her hips and roughly pulled her flush against his body. Slowly, he moved his hands to knead her sweet, round backside, then lifted her up against him, pleased by her moan and the way she squirmed against him. He kissed her harder, knowing she could feel his rigid member pressing against her soft belly. He trailed kisses along her jaw to her delicate ear. Gently, he tugged on the lobe with his teeth, then sought the sensitive spot of flesh behind her ear. He inhaled deeply and the scent of her made him shiver with desire.
Isabella flung her head back and moaned and he rained kisses on her throat, her ears, her soft white shoulders. She was tugging at his shirt as if trying to touch his bare skin, making little purring noises deep in her throat. Her every movement was erotic. He was panting with desire, God help him, and he wanted to taste every inch of her. He kissed the tops of her breast, hearing her gasps of pleasure. Carefully, he eased them both down, until she was lying beneath him on the lawn. She looked up at him with eyes glazed with desire. God, she was beautiful. He kissed her, taking her full lower lip between his teeth, his free hand roaming up her stomach to cup her heaving breast. She arched against him.
“Rafe, Rafe!”
Rafe fondled first one full breast and then the other, while his mouth explored the tops of her peaks and the cleavage between. God, she was so perfect, and he wanted her so desperately. He’d never felt such raging desire before. His hand moved down to her stomach, then to her thigh. He desperately needed to touch her, to stroke her naked flesh. His mouth closed over one nipple, teasing it through the thin barrier of fabric with his teeth. She jerked against him, pressing his head down. Sweet lord, she was passionate. He suckled the other nipple and felt her thrash her head from side to side, moaning. He slid his hand beneath the hem of her gown and slowly caressed up her bare calf, lifting her skirt as he stroked her leg. He raked the tips of his fingers over the tender back of her knee and she shuddered beneath his touch. Higher and higher his fingers caressed, his mouth continuing to ravage her breasts as he quite skillfully managed to divest her of her undergarment. He doubted she was even aware of it. He resumed caressing her knees and up her soft, creamy thighs until his hand slipped between her legs to her apex, and she bucked against his experienced fingers.
“Rafe, please!”
His fingers found her nub, and he quivered feeling her dampness. He fondled and rubbed her until her body convulsed with ecstasy.
“Oh, my love. Yes, yes, it’s all right.” Rafe continued to suckle her breasts and to stroke her. He could feel her orgasm cresting and slipped one finger inside her. She was incredibly wet and tight. Her body tensed around him. He heard her cries of pleasure and could tell she was confused and surprised by what was happening to her body.
“Darling, yes, just let it happen. I’m here, love.” Finally, he felt the spasms lessening and he gentled his finger’s movement. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and he eased her up, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her hard. She gasped and moaned into his mouth. He brought both arms around her and held her tight against his chest. He broke the kiss and buried his face in her neck. He was going mad, trying to contain his own release. It had been fine while he had concentrated on her, but now he wanted only to thrust himself into her moist shaft, to feel her body tighten around his member as it had around his finger. Of course, he couldn’t dare. It was bloody well killing him.
He held her tightly and they were quiet for a time. Isabella caressed his hair, her breathing gradually slowing.
“What just happened to me? Are you supposed to touch me like that?”
Rafe chuckled and groaned at the same time. “You just experienced a woman’s pleasure, love.” He raised his head and kissed her, then stroked her hair cascading down her back. God, she was a marvel.
“It was very nice, Rafe.” She frowned up at him, her little nose scrunching. “But what about you? Did you also have pleasure?”
Rafe’s eyes nearly crossed. “It was enough that I could give you yours. If I do to you what I want, Alex will kill me.”
“It doesn’t seem fair.” She was still frowning. “I can feel you, and you’re very hard.” She wiggled her bottom on his lap.
“Stop that!” Rafe hissed sharply.
“Alright.” Isabella kissed him, then laid her head on his shoulder. Her fingers played with the buttons of his shirt and she was quiet for several minutes.
“Will you ever come back here? I, I should very much like to do this again with you. Perhaps, next time, you could also have pleasure?”
“Sweet Bella, I don’t think it would be wise. We’d only end up going much farther, if there is a next time. Bloody hell, I hadn’t meant it to go this far.” He shook his head and looked down into her face. “We are dangerous to each other, love. This cannot happen again, I’m afraid. I have to go back to my life and you must get on with yours. Time must cease to suspend itself for us.”
“Nonsense, Rafe. Who is to care if you visit me here?”
“Your large cousin and his equally large sire, are who.” He replied dryly. “For the sake of your honor, they should probably kill me for what I have already done to you. I have compromised you quite thoroughly, but not enough that your eventual husband will discover it, thank God.” He lifted her off his lap and set her next to him, his arms still wrapped around her. “Come now, Bella. You are a very sensible girl. Be sensible now, I ask you. Each time we are alone together, we take steps further down a path we soon will not be able to retrace. We cannot see each other again – ever. What has happened has happened. Now, it is time to get on with our normal lives and forget all about it. Don’t you agree?”
Rafe knew he was spouting nonsense. He could never forget her passionate responses and sweet taste. He could never forget her cries of abandoned pleasure and the feel of her. He could never forget her beauty, her intelligence, her nobility.
But he was the man, the notorious favorite naughty boy of the Ton, the one with so much touted experience at handling these sorts of sticky situations. He knew he could make her see the futility of it. He had to help her to steer
her back to common sense. Rafe only hoped she wouldn’t start talking about that ‘love’ rubbish.
“Fine.” She pushed against him. “Then let us say goodbye now.”
Rafe was so surprised by her fury, he released her and she jumped up to stand before him. Her emerald eyes shone bright and her face was flushed. She was angry, no doubt about it. Well, he should have expected this. No tears and pleas from his country lady, no pouts or sighs of longing. No, she would wrap her haughty mantle about her and withdraw. She was looking at him so contemptuously, it was hard to believe that only moments before she had been crying out with passion, his finger deep inside her. He shuddered at the memory.
Isabella stood before him, her small hands fisted at her sides. “Thank you, Easton, for all the education you have bestowed upon me. I shall never forget you.” She turned and fled back to the house.
Rafe stood, sorely tempted to call her back. But what would he say? What could he possibly say to her now?
Chapter 12
“Good morning, all!” Alex sauntered into the dining room to see Rafe and Whit already seated with plates heaped before them. He frowned at the duke. “What’s wrong, old boy, meal no good this morning?”
Rafe only pushed the food around his plate. He noticed Whit appeared to find it fine as he shoved a huge piece of fried steak in his mouth.
“Morning, Alex.” Rafe dropped his fork, giving up all pretense of eating, and took up his cup of coffee. He hadn’t slept a wink last night. He’d only thought about Isabella and how hurt she had been at his rejection. God, she must hate him now. He certainly hated himself. He never should have taken things so far with her.
“Well, where’s me cousin? I thought the little lovely would be waiting for us.” He loaded his plate from the sideboard piled with dishes of steaming sausages, steak, eggs, kippers and the like.
“I haven’t seen her,” Rafe replied tersely, then wanted to bite off his tongue. He had to show better control.