She lay, apparently stunned, on the grass, her skirts twisted about her legs, hitched up to show the length of her slender calves encased in ivory stockings. “What in the world happened?” The bewilderment in her soft voice betrayed culture and breeding. Despite her plain clothing, this was no country miss.
Intrigued, but no less annoyed, Donovan called forth the shift, and his body contorted. Pain shot through his limbs, ricocheted through each nerve ending as his bones and organs knitted themselves into his normal form. Claws and snout retracted, replaced by nails and human teeth. Fur vanished in favor of his skin and hair, and when the metamorphosis completed its cycle, he collapsed on the ground beside her while she struggled into a sitting position.
Damnation, but that agony sapped at his strength. Never did he grow used to the trauma. As he shook his head to chase away the last vestiges of the transformation, he regarded his unlikely companion. Her bonnet had been knocked askew and hung at an awkward angle to one side of her head. Rich brown hair met his perusal, and in the rays of the dawn, burnished mahogany highlights glimmered. Though she’d landed her gray gaze, wide and confused, upon him, she didn’t react to his heroic act nor to the undeniable fact of his naked state. There were no words of gratitude or thanks. Neither did she look upon him with any sort of fascination. His ego twinged slightly, for he wasn’t accustomed to being so summarily dismissed.
“Why the deuce didn’t you move away from danger? You must be blind to not have seen such a path of destruction meant for you.” Every inch of the duke rang in his rebuke as he glared at her.
She put a gloved hand to her forehead. Her eyes narrowed. Anger flashed in those gray depths. “For your information, I am blind, but I’m not a simpleton. Though you may be to treat me like you’ve done.” The woman quickly set her bonnet to rights. “I heard commotion but didn’t know where it came from.”
Rendered speechless, Donovan opened and closed his mouth. What did one say to such an answer? He had no experience with sight impairment. So he took refuge in the annoyance that still swirled hot through his chest. “At least I have enough sense not to let a curricle trample me.” He straightened his spine but remained sitting on the grass beside her. How dare this woman think to argue with him.
“I possess manners enough not to shove a lady from the roadway and then proceed to drag her into the brush.” Then her eyes rounded and emotions clouded the stormy depths: confusion, terror… and curiosity. She sucked in a breath. “Do you mean to ravish me, then? You saw what you hoped was a vulnerable target and you pounced?” Before he could contradict the statement, she moved her head from side to side, searching with her gaze that didn’t hold the typical vacancy or blankness of one without sight. “Yet I was certain what knocked me down wasn’t a man at all.” One of her hands flexed. “I thought, for a brief moment, I’d felt fur, like that of a dog…”
Dear Lord. Had she seen or suspected he’d shifted from the beast? He yanked himself from his stupor. “Rest assured, it was me who pulled you from the road. After that, I brought you through the thicket and down here.” He forced a hard swallow. What kind of woman was she? Any other lady, upon being handled with such rough care and presented with a nude man, would scream the village awake and then succumb to a fainting spell. Yet his companion, though wary, did none of those things. She kept her gaze trained upon his face. “You and I are not finished having words, for I mean to dress you down for such ill-advised—”
“You smell differently from other men,” she interrupted as she leaned closer to him.
“I beg your pardon?” His pulse pounded hard in his temples. Surely this odd woman didn’t suspect his true nature.
“Your scent, it’s wild. Primal.” She wrenched off her gloves of worn ivory kid and dropped them to the ground next to her. “May I?” She reached for him. “It’s but one of the ways I can see you.”
“I… You have my leave.” The intrigue deepened, and since he was currently perplexed by her, as well as her lack of taking responsibility for her part in the debacle, he nodded, and then berated himself. If she’d been truthful regarding her blindness, she couldn’t see the gesture.
“The way you speak tells me you must be someone of some importance.” The woman glanced her fingertips along the planes of his face, his cheekbones, his forehead. Her touch was gentle as she traced his eyebrows, the slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, his chin.
Awareness rippled over his skin the longer she stayed connected to him. “I’d like to think so,” he managed to say, albeit in a whisper. Such closeness, or rather intimacy, demanded matching vocal tones.
“Men always do.” She chuckled. The throaty sound skated over him and gathered in his groin, tightening his length. “It is a dangerous way to think.” Then she smoothed her palms down the sides of his neck, over his shoulders and sucked in a breath. “You’re naked.”
“I…” How the devil could he explain away that fact?
“Why are you without clothes?” She scooted closer to him. Their legs touched, her skirts bunched around her knees. Her shawl had slipped revealing a mere hint of the tops of creamy breasts, and still she explored. “However did you manage to go about the village dressed in naught but scandal?”
What an… interesting way of putting it. Some of his acumen returned from the fog that had wrapped about his brain. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” And there was no way he’d offer the information to her upon this unorthodox meeting. Chances were he’d never see her again.
“Nothing is impossible.” Her fingers slipped over his chest, rasping through the heavy mat of hair there. When she gently tugged on a few strands, he gasped. Unbridled lust streaked through his body, building as she smoothed her hands along his torso and then dipped questing fingers lower still, brushing those digits across the flat skin of his abdomen. “Regardless of your improper state, I’m glad. It is a refreshing change and adds a bit of mystery to the meeting.” His muscles clenched. When she pushed onward, her palm skating over the wide head of his erect member, he grabbed her hand and held it away from his person.
Donovan sucked in great gulps of air as he willed his body to stop its reaction to her innocent exploration. How gauche it was that he’d grown hard for a woman he didn’t know. Desperate for something to take his mind off his baser instincts, he asked, “Are you in the habit of introducing yourself to men like this? For if you are, my next question is why are you allowed out of the house unaccompanied?”
A delighted smile curved her rosy lips, lips he couldn’t tear his gaze from with the bottom being slightly fuller than the top, lips he wanted to claim with a kiss, which was the fastest way to Bedlam aside from conversing here while he remained naked. “No, I am not.” Then the smile faded and he felt the disappointment deep down in his chest. “In all honesty, men do not seek me out for any sort of meeting.”
It was the height of folly to linger here. The longer he did, the greater the chance of being discovered, and no matter who this woman was, he refused to compromise her or have his own life thrust into a situation he didn’t want. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her hand in his was soft. She didn’t back away and was much too close for his comfort.
“I’ve learned over the years to accept that my affliction is isolating.” The words sounded tired, as if she’d said them time out of hand already.
In this, she and he were in complete agreement. “I understand all too well the sentiment.” He peered into her eyes, struck again by how alert she appeared yet didn’t see him. In the rapidly lighting dawn, a few silver flecks glinted deep in those depths. The gentleman in him finally rose to the surface. “Forgive me for the rough handling, but it was the only way to prevent disaster and injury.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. Aside from some aches and what will no doubt be bruises, I am well.” Again, a smile curved her lips, and his member renewed its appreciation for her.
“I’m glad.” It was absurd, sitting here like this, clinging to her hand, while insid
e his head, his wolf encouraged him to give into primal instincts. “By the by, I’m Donovan Sinclair, the Duke of Manchester.”
And I desperately need to leave before… well before I can do anything that will give away my secret or show her I’m the degenerate rogue I fear I am.
CHAPTER TWO
Miss Alice Morrowe’s mind spun from the situation she currently found herself in.
Her chest and ribcage smarted from the impact, and her backside stung, but what held her captive was the completely bizarre fact she sat close to a naked man—and a duke at that. With her skirts in a tangle and her legs on display from the knees down, if someone in the village came upon them, there’d be no doubt in anyone’s mind as to what had occurred, even if it was far from the truth.
A naked man who, from all accounts, was interested in her—or at least a specific part of him was—in a base way that he’d no doubt feel for any living, breathing female. Her brief encounter with the tip of his rampant member still tickled her palm. She marveled that she’d been so bold as to touch him there; never had she touched a man, and not that part of a man at all. It had been an accident, so caught up in “seeing” him with her fingertips as she was. And yet, she allowed him to keep hold of her hand, and she didn’t move away from such sure scandal.
“You’re a duke.” It wasn’t a question. She enjoyed having him so near. In her experience, men, once they were appraised of her incurable eye condition, steered clear of any interaction. Rarely was she sought out. Yes, it was a lonely life, but she’d had no choice except to make the best of it and carve out happiness for herself where she could. Somewhere in the jumbled memories of the events that whisked her from the roadside, she recalled the roughness of animal fur, the strong clench of toothy jaws in the skirt of her dress, the soft snuffle of breath. What had become of the dog? “Why are you here?” Perhaps he’d been on a hunting mission and had gotten separated from his hound.
Yet, the way that animal had slammed into her indicated its weight was significantly larger than a hunting dog.
“Obviously, to rescue you,” came his glib reply.
Alice looked directly at him, but she only saw wavy white space. If she glanced over his shoulder, she could make out the general shape of his person, his head, but the image wasn’t clear. It was almost as if a thick film had fallen permanently over her eyes, but at least she discerned he possessed light brown hair and that it stuck up in places. The only way to fully see a person was to intimately press herself against them, and that wasn’t something she could do at the moment, for he was a stranger.
And a duke.
And naked.
Even though she’d already forgotten herself and hand run her hands over the bulk of him. “Yes, well, there is that.” A trace of heat infused her cheeks as her thoughts dwelled on his scandalous state of undress. Each time she went out of the house it was a risk, a gamble she never knew if she’d win. Being blind didn’t exactly lend itself to full self-efficiency, though Lord knew she tried her hardest. But the world was also full of people who wished harm to befall its most vulnerable residents. “I meant, why are you here in Shalford?”
Besides upending my world.
“Ah… business. I’d been on my way out of the village, returning to London in fact, when I came upon you.” His deep, tenor-pitched voice rumbled in her own chest, and she shivered as gooseflesh sprang on her skin.
“I see. Hunting?”
After a slight pause, he said, “You could say that.”
“Where is your hound?”
“I don’t have one.”
Very curious indeed. Not only did he not have a dog, but there were no hunting weapons, tools or any other accessories nearby. And why was he naked? “Were you successful?”
“More or less.” Was that amusement hanging on his voice?
As a member of the gentry, even as a poor relation, she wasn’t given much value, and being with a man here and now, one who’d gone out of his way to push her from being run over by a carriage, was interesting and intriguing. He didn’t have to concern himself, yet he had. What did he wish for in return? A chill swept up her spine. Cold disappointment coiled in her belly. Was he like all the rest? She wasn’t a woman of loose morals, wouldn’t lie with him out of desperate loneliness, his boredom, or her own curiosity. Merciful heavens, did that explain his state of undress? He was already prepared to ravage her? “Perhaps you should be on your way now that you’ve ascertained I’m well. You no doubt have prey to hunt.” She pushed at him with her free hand, but instead of shoving him from her, she swept her fingertips over the expanse of his bare chest—his strong, muscled, and hairy chest. The warmth of his torso called to her as did the crispness of the mat of hair she’d currently buried her fingers into.
He is quite manly.
“Excellent suggestion, unless…” he pitched his voice lower until it was a mere caress of sound that flowed over her like honey. The duke tugged on her hand, bringing her closer, so that his features swam into some semblance of view.
“Unless what?” she asked, her own voice a breathless affair. Alice anchored her free hand to his shoulder while peering into his eyes that were the color of brandy. His hair, light brown and longer than current fashion, falling in disarray about his head to curl at his neck, tempted her and she slipped her hand to his nape, where she reveled in its softness as it rasped over her fingers. Stubble shadowed his lower cheeks and jawline. What would that feel like if she rubbed her palm over it?
He chuckled, which sent butterflies waking through her insides. “Unless you were of a mind to tryst here in this sheltered place before I make my exit. Perhaps you shall be my prey.” Still holding onto her, he slipped his free hand down her back. Heated tingles followed in his wake, and when he dared to cup her buttock, a gasp escaped her. “After all, I’m dressed—or undressed as the case may be—for such an activity, and on second glance, you’re quite pleasing to the eye.”
A haze of untested desire mixed with confusion and inquisitiveness enveloped her. It had long been a dream to catch the attention of a gentleman, one who would look past her blindness and see her for who she truly was, yet… Alice shook her head, scattering the cloud of sensation he’d invoked. His words sank into her addled brain. “…on second glance, you’re quite pleasing to the eye.” Did that mean when he first spied her, he thought her ugly or unattractive? A trace of hot anger speared through her. “How lovely to know you wouldn’t dare bed a woman who didn’t possess the requisite look you desire.”
The duke removed his hand from her backside, only to cup her cheek. He ran the pad of this thumb along her lower lip. Renewed awareness zipped along her spine. “It wouldn’t stop me, for women are women, but I do enjoy slipping a blindfold over their eyes before the deed is done.” The warmth of his breath skated over her cheek, and again she caught the wild, primal scent of him she had earlier.
“Why…” She moistened her lips. “Why would you do that? Do you not wish bed partners to look upon you during something so intimate?” He was much different than anyone she’d ever met, and it both frightened and exhilarated her. Obviously, there was so much she didn’t know about relations between men and women.
“Ah, such innocence.” His voice tickled her ear as he put his lips to the shell of that organ. “The bit of the unknown heightens the act and adds mystery. And I ask again, my sweet country flower, are you of a mind for a tryst?”
She might be rejected by society, but she needn’t act the wanton because of it or when a strange man paid the slightest mind to her. “That is rather an improper offer.” And one she’d do well to steer clear of unless she wished to pay the consequences, for since he was so high on the instep, it was unlikely he’d do right by her or a child that might result. Yet the need for more information regarding his wont to blindfold mistresses warred with self-preservation.
“So it is.” But he didn’t release her and neither did she move. “Tempting, all the same, is it not?”
“Perhaps, if it was given to a different woman on a different day in a different life.” Oh, Alice, don’t be a widgeon. Don’t be what the village expects. Proper might be boring, but it kept her safe. Too many young girls fell for the charm of men like him and found themselves in situations that left them ostracized. This time when she pushed at his chest, she didn’t allow herself the distraction of exploring his hard body. Then she scuttled away, putting much needed distance between them. “I should go. This is highly irregular.”
And slightly maddening. No matter how much she longed for romance, she refused to go down this road where love didn’t dwell. Still, her heart squeezed from knowing that she wasn’t enough for a man of his caliber. He wanted to bed her, not court her.
“As should I.” The duke blew out a heavy breath as if finally remembering himself. The flesh-colored blob that represented his form stood. “I’ve held out a hand for you, should you require assistance up.”
At least it was more respect than his last offer. Alice felt around and when her fingers came into contact with his hand, she grasped it, only squealing a little when he hauled her into a standing position without effort. “Thank you, Your Grace.” How bizarre it was to converse with one so lofty in society while they were in such a situation. Thank goodness she’d learned the proper manners and deportment as a young lady before being abandoned. Her heart twinged for an entirely different reason. Her only family, distant though they were, didn’t want her when it had become apparent she wouldn’t “grow out” of the vision affliction. When they’d turned her from their home, the luxury of certain things attached to a barony went with them.
“It has truly been my pleasure.” He released her hand with alacrity, yanking her from her tortured musings. “However, despite my duty to escort you to wherever it is you were going, my lack of clothing prevents me from parading through the village.” His self-deprecating laugh was a sad affair. What was his life like? “I fear I shall have to leave you here.”
Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1) Page 2