His heartbeat raced as he softly knocked upon Alice’s door. Yes, it was the height of scandal to do such a thing, but time was of the essence, and he wished for her to remain at sixes and sevens to better coax her into his arms. When he raised his hand to knock again, she cracked open the door.
“Donovan?” Surprise propelled the word into the air. Pleasure widened her eyes.
“How did you know it was me?” He marveled at the seemingly sixth sense she possessed around him. Inside his mind, his wolf took notice.
Her throaty chuckle, so early in the morning, sent awareness skittering through his body. Was that what she’d sound like if he woke her up in the wee hours to satisfy their mutual need? His member tightened. “I recognized your scent. It’s unique and sets you apart from other men.”
“That is good to know.” He had the blend special ordered from a shop on St. James Street. “Will you let me in? I’d rather not conduct this conversation at your door in the event someone wanders the village early.”
“Of course.” She opened the door wider, revealing a nightdress of plain lawn so thin her healthy peach skin showed through, but adorned with a row of pearl buttons and trimmed with lace. “Except, your alternative is the height of improper.”
“I’m nothing if not consistent.” As he passed her, he smiled at the blatant delight in her stormy eyes. How encouraging. When she’d closed the door behind him, he tugged off his gloves and tossed them to the foot of her narrow bed, with its freshly rumpled sheets and counterpane. Her pillow showed the indent from her head; obviously he’d roused her from slumber. She’d not yet risen for the day. The intimacy of it all further worked to fan the flames of his desire.
“Why are you here so early?” she asked as she fluttered a hand between her cheek and her throat, where the placket of her nightdress was unbuttoned. He adored her state of dishabille, but what would she look like covered in satins and silks with perhaps a string of pearls around her neck or that pale skin decorated with diamond choker? Riches that he’d peel off layer by layer to reveal the pale skin beneath?
He wrenched his gaze away from the tempting flesh, even though she couldn’t see the action. “I wanted to spend time with you, away from my sister, away from the judgment of the village.” Donovan glanced about the small quarters, but her apricot-scented presence filled the space and reminded him she was there. So innocent. Waiting to be plucked. “I’m quite selfish that way.”
“To my way of thinking, you are selfish in every way, my lord.” She flashed a smile, and in the darkness of the room, he swore the gesture lit the shadows. “You’ve chosen scandal once more then.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” When he matched her smile, realized she couldn’t see, he caught her hand and then pressed her palm to his lips so that she could feel their curve. “I’m familiar with it, so why rout it now?” As he continued to grin, he darted out his tongue and licked her skin. Finally, they were both without the barrier of gloves.
Alice sucked in a breath. She raised her eyes to his. Confusion and surprise lit those depths, but her pupils widened. “What am I to do with you?” Breathlessness infused her whisper.
Damnation. Did she not realize the fetching, tempting picture she presented? He cupped her cheek while she did the same to him. “Anything you wish.” He traced her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Do you have any ideas?” Oh, but he could think of quite a few things. Both his wolf and his thickening length agreed with them all.
Her gray eyes, so wide and still dreamy with the last vestiges of slumber, invited him to jump in and drown. Trust shimmered there with the silver flecks, trust and infatuation. “I could make you a cup of tea. There’s a hearth inside the mill…”
“Hmm.” He brushed his fingertips along the side of her throat, and when she sharply inhaled, he smiled. “I have a different idea.” What better way to help a seduction along than offering to dance with a lady? Dancing meant holding her close and that could lead to all sorts of delicious activities. He fingered the long braid resting over her shoulder. “Perhaps you’ll share a dance with me?” As he spoke, he drew his hand downward, following the slope of her shoulder, along her bare arm to her hand. Oh, but he wanted to skim his palms over her breasts where even now the rosy tips of her hardened nipples thrust against her night clothes.
“Are you insane?” She moistened her lips, and he moved his gaze to her kissable mouth. “Here? In my tiny room? We’ll trip over each other.”
“Not a bad thing either.” With a bit of luck, he could tumble her onto that bed. It was just waiting to be of use… His wolf urged him to do exactly that, but Donovan held back. Slowly. It’s an art. “Unless you’d rather adjourn to the mill?” No doubt there’d be more floor space, and dance with her he would before he plied her with kisses.
“Oh, I haven’t had a proper dance in years.” Longing wove through her voice and she trembled.
Donovan grasped her hand. “Even more of a reason for us to indulge.” Quickly, before she changed her mind, he escorted her from the room, being certain to close the door. With her delighted laughter ringing in his ears, he pulled her around to the mill’s door, and when he found it not locked, he chuckled. “So much trust in Shalford over London.”
“We have nothing to fear.” Anticipation threaded through her voice.
Oh, but they did—she did. He pushed the thought from his mind as he ushered her inside. The comforting scents of flour and grain met his nose. So easily could he imagine the bread those things would be used for once ground. “Now is not the time for fear, my sweet country flower.” Then, without further conversation, he swept her into his arms and immediately moved them into the steps of a waltz.
Bloody hell. He’d thought she’d be the one enchanted by the tactile necessity of the dance, but it was he who felt as if he drowned in her presence. The heat of her seeped through her thin night dress and transferred to his hands, his body as he pressed her closer. The bakery-like scent of her wafted through his nose and fed his hunger. Though she stumbled through the steps until she found her rhythm, he didn’t care, for each misstep meant he could hold her to him, guide her through the turns, murmur instructions to keep her steady, until he wished they were in a ballroom with her skirts swirling about them, and alternately he imagined her sans clothing as their bodies fit and moved together in a different sort of dance.
Once they drifted to a natural halt, Alice rested a hand on his chest while the other she’d wrapped about his neck. She stared into his face with such trust and bemusement that he caught his breath, but it was the need that twinkled at the backs of her eyes that spurred him onward.
“Ah, Alice,” he whispered, and since she couldn’t see him, he set out to tantalize her other senses. “How you tempt me.” Donovan took her hand, pulled it away from his person. He caressed his fingers along the inside of her arm, traced her palm, glanced them along the side of her neck. “So beautiful.” Then he gave the same treatment to her other arm and hand until she trembled in his hold and her breathing accelerated.
“You are quite proficient in this,” she whispered and then glided her fingers over his face leaving tingles of need in her wake.
“Perhaps, but the lady makes the difference.” And that was the truth. Then he bent his head, kissed the hollow of her throat where her pulse rapidly fluttered, feathered a kiss to the inside of her wrist, licked at the life force that surged through her veins, and when she gasped, he moved to her lips, kissing her without pressure, just teasing little nips.
“Have I…” A sigh shuddered from her as she lifted on tip toe to return his kisses. “Have I made a difference with you?”
“Uncommonly so.” Perhaps more than any woman he’d ever known. Donovan kissed her lips with more gusto. Alice was hesitant in returning the overture at first, but when he remained patient, merely nibbling at the corners of her mouth, moving over her lips as if he had all the time in the world, she followed his lead, and he continued with more insistence.
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br /> “I’m glad. I think it’s a good thing for you to be with someone different, someone you can learn from.” With every word she uttered, her lips brushed his, and she pulled him closer with gentle pressure of her hand at his nape.
Then he was lost. Donovan walked her across the dusty floor until her back connected with a wall. He groaned. How could she be so innocent yet such a siren at the same time? His hardened member pressed insistently against the front of his breeches, and he pushed her arms over her head. When she murmured a protest, he quickly caught both of her wrists in one hand while with the other, he cupped a breast, teasing the beaded nipple with his thumb.
“Oh!” A surprised moan followed the breathy exclamation, and when he kissed her lips, she sighed. The mewling sounds she made at the back of her throat when he continued his fondling tugged at him, fueling the flames of his own need.
“You were made for pleasure, Alice.” His pleasure, hers—theirs together. Finally, he released her wrists and he cupped both breasts. The plump globes tempted him, her body called out to his, and while his wolf paced about his mind in high anxiety for the act that would surely come, Donovan blocked those impulses in favor of flooding the woman in his arms with sensations she wouldn’t soon forget.
He dipped his head and took a tight bud into his mouth, teased it with his tongue. The scrape of the fabric provided an interesting texture and added another layer of heat to the desire circling through his body. She furrowed her fingers through his hair, holding him to her breast as she wriggled from his attention.
“Donovan.” His name uttered from her lips sounded like the most pleasing invocation. “I never knew I could feel such things. It’s… freeing, exciting.” She kissed him. “Teach me.”
Damnation. It would be so easy to coerce her into the act, to bury his aching length in her honeyed heat, but he hesitated.
Rut with her! Claim her, his wolf urged. Show her what it can be like to lie with a man the first time.
The words froze him and cooled some of his ardor. But there is the rub. It will be her first time, and shouldn’t be a quick, dirty tryst hidden in a mill.
“My sweet Alice. You have so much to learn.” As his pulse thundered in his temples, he rested his forehead against hers. When he stared into her eyes and saw the glimmers of adoration there, he smiled. “Perhaps we should talk while passion dies, else I’ll embarrass myself.” He left the explanation at that, taking the blame to further endear him to her. He cringed because it was such a cold, calculated plan.
And she didn’t deserve it.
“That is rather a good idea, for the way I’m feeling right now…” She broke off with a laugh that only served to re-fire his blood. “I might just give you what you want.” Alice clung to him and he wrapped his arms around her.
Dear girl, how you tempt me.
His wolf whined when he didn’t make further inroads into the seduction.
They remained locked together while a comfortable silence wove around them. Then she broke the mood, and her words chilled him.
“There are rumors in the village about wolves killing the livestock. Some of the men have claimed to see one of the animals. Can you believe that? Such things haven’t been in England for over a hundred years.” She laughed, as if the topic were absurd.
Donovan gently eased away from her. Cold sweat plastered his shirt to his back. “I believe it more than you can know.” He’d been careless, if he was seen. Too much time spent in the Surrey countryside. The remainder of his passion died. If she laughed away the stories, how would she react when he had to tell her the truth? With his existence known, he’d need to conduct his visits with more attention.
Time was truly critical now.
CHAPTER EIGHT
September 22, 1815
Shalford
Alice lifted her face to the afternoon sun and reveled in the autumn warmth. Soon the seasons would turn with the tree leaves. The comforting scents of bonfires would pervade the air, bringing with it a crispness where the world prepared to wrap itself in glory before preparing for its winter’s nap.
At present, she couldn’t help but think that the winds of change were about to enter her life, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. While excitement buzzed at the base of her spine, trepidation churned in her belly. What would happen between her and the duke?
Perhaps nothing. Their relationship was bizarre, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of hope that bloomed in her chest each time she thought of him.
“Alice, you’re wool-gathering,” Fanny accused as she touched Alice’s shoulder. “Here I’ve been telling you how sorry I was for my snappish words at my wedding, and you’ve not paid attention.” A trace of annoyance ran through her words.
“I apologize.” She’d met her friend at their special spot up the river beyond the water mill. A large boulder rested on the bank and Alice liked to perch upon it, pretending, dreaming, wondering. It allowed her time away from the village where she could listen to the moving water and find balance. “My thoughts have been scattered of late.”
“So have mine,” Fanny replied with a secret smile that Alice couldn’t understand. “Lying with a man is quite… different than anything I’ve ever known.”
“How so?” Alice thrust thoughts of Donovan away in order to better concentrate on her friend.
Fanny chuckled. The sound held a note of smugness and experience. “It is hard to describe except that it can be wonderful once in a while.” She sighed. “Most times, though, it’s more of a chore than anything else. Lovemaking seems to benefit Rupert the most.”
“Oh?” Though Alice knew the basics of what occurred between a man and a woman, she couldn’t begin to even guess at the rest.
“After he climbs on top of me, touches me, he grunts as we… you know. He hits release and then sleeps after without caring if I reach the same heights.” She shrugged. “Mum says that’s how it goes most times, but it must be enjoyable for the woman more often than not; otherwise, I wouldn’t have so many siblings, right?”
“Oh, Fanny, perhaps you only need give it time. I doubt many couples learn such things perfectly the first few times.” But Alice laughed along with her friend. “There are many women in the village who say relations are awkward.”
“And short.” Fanny patted her shoulder. “For all the talk about the dirty deed, Lord it’s too short to really enjoy.”
Alice smiled. “You have a lifetime ahead to find a rhythm.” Conflicting thoughts circled through head. “Didn’t Rupert give you chills of excitement or anticipation before you indulged each other physically?” When she remembered what she’d felt when Donovan kissed or caressed her, tendrils of heat twisted up her spine. Merely hearing the tone of his voice set butterflies loose in her belly. Did Fanny not experience such things?
“I don’t know what that means.” Fanny moved away to sit beside Alice on the boulder. “I wanted a husband and babies. He wished for a place to stick his prick.” Her laugh this time didn’t ring as bright. “Of course, I wouldn’t give it to him until he agreed to the wedding, but I guess we get on all right.” She bumped Alice’s shoulder. “It’s the living with him that’ll take some patience. Men are quite different in that regard, too.”
“I can only imagine.” Yet, how… disappointing. Alice’s smile faded. She was of a mind there should be more from intimacy than the raw coldness of what happened in the marriage bed. More than a perfunctory joining resulting in pregnancy. Surely there were emotions involved that enhanced such things, a sharing of souls with love making. Did not love take precedence, or at the very least fondness?
Perhaps that was also a silly dream. Despite my advanced age, I’m regrettably ignorant.
Fanny prodded Alice in the ribs with her elbow. “But you should already know all of this, yes? Now that you have experience in the carnal world.” She snickered. “The world of sin, some would say.”
That brought Alice out of her thoughts with alacrity. She turned her head tow
ard Fanny and leaned close enough that she could peer into her friend’s face. The smug expression and mocking light in her eyes sent cold chills of anxiety curling through her insides. “What do you mean?”
Fanny snorted. She raised an eyebrow. “You’re bedding that duke who keeps coming around, sniffing at your skirts. Everyone in the village is talking about it. Some of the men have put down wagers on when you’ll get with child.” Her laugh took on a wicked note. “Mum says it’s scandalous the way you’re behaving and that I should limit my time with you, but I think it’s interesting. I wouldn’t have thought you’d have it in you to be that sort of woman.”
Heat slapped Alice’s cheeks as hotter annoyance rose in her chest. “It is gossip, nothing more, for none of it is true.” It must be out of hand if even her best friend believed the talk over what Alice had told her.
“Aw, don’t be like that.” Fanny grabbed one of her hands and clasped it between her own. “You can tell me all the dirty secrets.”
“What is there to tell?” She shook her head, still fuming with her ire. “It’s certainly not what you and the others think.” Pausing, she searched her mind for the appropriate words. “The duke has come to see me a few times. That’s all.” The heat in her cheeks blazed more furiously than before. “He took me out on a drive and a walk. We didn’t even stay long at your wedding celebration before he escorted me home.” Her friend didn’t need to know about the early morning visit a couple of days ago that resulted in lovely kisses and hot caresses in the mill or the gentlemanly way he gave into honor instead of pushing for relations.
Fanny put her nose to Alice’s while she searched her face. “You’re blushing. Either there’s more to your story or you’re lying.”
Perhaps there were some things that didn’t need cheapening by telling them to a girlfriend, especially since Fanny was prone to gossip. If Alice revealed all about the duke, her friend would run with that information to everyone else, and Alice wished to keep such special moments between her and Donovan. She shrugged and gently removed her hand from Fanny’s. “We have exchanged a few kisses. That is all.”
Devil Take the Duke (Lords of the Night Book 1) Page 9