Alexandra Benedict - [Too]

by Too Dangerous to Desire

  Beads of sweat pooled between her fingers at the intimidating sight. She noted there was no other door for her to escape through. Trapped inside the room with the rogue, she swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

  “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  He did not respond. Instead he continued to stare at her with inquisitive blue eyes.

  She prattled onward: “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  The duke stepped deeper into the room, but still said nothing.

  Did the devil have his tongue?

  Her heart quickened as he approached her slowly.

  At length he said, “What do you think of my brother?”

  Lightly her hands trembled. After Adam’s shocking confession, she truly didn’t know what to think of him.

  “He saved my life.” It was not a direct answer, but Evelyn was filled with uncertainty and didn’t know how to respond. Adam had saved her life. He had a noble side. But he had a dark nature, too. It shadowed the tender soul she had come to know at the cottage. The only real question was: How much of the darkness in his heart still ruled his senses?

  The duke stilled a short distance away from her and crossed his hands behind his back. “That isn’t a proper answer.”

  Her tremors worsened. She sensed the duke was searching for something: an answer to a question he was too uncomfortable to ask outright. “What else is there to say?”

  “He is going with you to America…Do you enjoy his company?”

  She enjoyed his kisses…the feel of his crushing hold…the rough timbre of his voice.

  Distressed to admit the truth, she ignored the duke’s question to clarify instead, “Your brother is going to escort me to America, but then he will return to England.”

  The duke’s dark brow creased. “That isn’t the impression my brother made the other night.”

  Now her voice quivered, too. “I asked him not to stay with me in America.”

  “Why?”

  She twisted her fingers together. “Adam belongs here in England with his family.”

  Away from me.

  The duke appeared genuinely glum. “I don’t think Adam wants to be here with us.”

  Evelyn observed the man closely. The quiet sadness in his voice disarmed her. Slowly the tight knot in her belly unraveled, and she looked upon the duke with a newfound light.

  He was not the frightening reprobate anymore. Rather he was a simple man mourning the loss of his brother’s friendship. It occurred to her then that Adam had been right: the “Duke of Rogues” had retired his epithet.

  It also occurred to her that between the two brothers, it was Adam who concealed the greater darkness.

  “I’ve taken up enough of your time, Lady Evelyn.” He composed his features. “I’m here on an errand. My wife requests your company in the drawing room.”

  “Thank you for inviting me to tea, Belle.”

  “Think nothing of it, my dear.” The duchess tried to set her cup and saucer on the low round table, but couldn’t quite reach it, so she set the china across her round belly instead. “We ladies have to band together in a castle overrun with men.”

  Evelyn sipped her tea with pleasure. She had been deprived of the afternoon ritual after many years of poverty. “I don’t know how you’ve managed so far with so many men afoot.”

  “Oh, I’m used to it.” Mirabelle waved a hand. “I grew up in a household full of men: a father and four brothers.”

  “What happened to your mother?”

  “She died in childbirth to Quincy.” Her voice softened. “I was four at the time so I don’t remember her very well. Although my older brothers assure me I look very much like her.”

  Evelyn said quietly, “I lost my mother at a young age, too.”

  “Then we are kindred spirits, you and I.”

  A warmth touched Evelyn’s heart at the tender sentiment. It had been a long time since she’d known the comforts of a sisterly bond.

  The duchess took a sip of tea. “There was another reason I asked you to tea, Evie.”

  “Yes?”

  “We should organize some belongings for you. To take with you on your trip to America.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Belle.”

  “I want to do it. Besides you can’t travel with just one dress.” She patted her round belly. “And if it wasn’t for the babe, I’d be the one accompanying you to America as chaperone, not Adam.”

  Thoughts of Adam set her pulse pounding, and she blurted: “I know Adam stabbed your husband.”

  The other woman shifted slightly. “I see Adam confessed his past to you.”

  To quiet the mad rush of emotion in her breast, Evelyn took in a deep breath before she said with more grace, “I understand why you fear him, Belle. I would, too.”

  “Yes, about that…I don’t fear him anymore, Evie.”

  She blinked. “You don’t?”

  “I wouldn’t allow him inside the castle if I really believed he might hurt the duke again.”

  “What changed your mind about Adam?”

  “I understand the man better. Four years ago, Adam was angry and distraught. He blamed the duke for his wife’s death. Wrongly, of course. But I can see he’s changed.”

  Evelyn’s thoughts returned to Adam and the grisly confession he had made earlier in the day. “Do you think a violent man can change, Belle?”

  “No. But I think an angry man can find peace.” She winked. “I know my husband did.”

  Then was it possible Adam really had mended his ways? Evelyn was overwhelmed by the thought. If the man had changed, she needn’t fear him. And yet he still possessed a mighty pull over her senses. Surely that was something she should still fear?

  “You are very good to forgive Adam for what he did to the duke.”

  The duchess snorted. “The duke would like to reconcile with his brother. And I do have a particular fondness for my husband.” Then in a whisper, she said, “There’s just something about His Grace that’s so attractive; I can’t seem to deny him his fondest wish.”

  “I don’t think your brothers see the charm.”

  The duchess laughed heartily. “No, I don’t suppose they do. In truth, I didn’t see the charm in Damian at first, either…or perhaps I did, but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself?”

  “How do you mean?”

  The duchess appeared deep in thought. “Well, my feelings for the duke were frightening at first. I suppose I just didn’t want to acknowledge them for that very reason: I was too afraid.”

  “And now?” Evelyn asked boldly.

  “Now I can’t live without the feelings—or the man.”

  Evelyn pondered the idea: being unable to live without someone. At one time she had thought her life void without Ella. And yet gradually she had learned to exist without her.

  Oh, she had desperately missed her sister: the pain of separation still smarted in her breast. But she had lived. Evelyn did not understand the sort of bond the duchess was referring to: one where even the will to survive depended upon another.

  “The duke has a very strong hold over you, doesn’t he?” said Evelyn. And not without a hint of resentment, for there was always a man in her life with a hold over her.

  “And I have one over him…or so I like to think.”

  “You have a hold over the duke?”

  She smiled with mischief. “Any woman can have power over a man, Evie.”

  Evelyn was bewitched by the idea. She wondered what it would feel like to have power over a man. Powerless most of her life, she found it an attractive thought.

  “How does one have power over a man, Belle?”

  “You must make him fall madly in love with you.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Really?”

  “Oh yes. The more he loves you, the more power you have over him. Unfortunately, the deuced sentiment works both ways, for I fell madly in love with the duke.”

  Evelyn rubbed the rim of her teacup in somber thought. “So you
’re still powerless in the end?”

  The duchess eyed her guest with quiet scrutiny. “You know, I was only teasing, Evie. Love isn’t a power struggle. Or it shouldn’t be.”

  “But you are powerless in the affair?”

  Mirabelle sighed. “I lost some of my power, I suppose: the power to be in complete control of my emotions, for love makes one feel many different things.”

  “It sounds so frightening…so why love at all?”

  “I don’t think one really has a choice in the matter, Evie.”

  Evelyn disagreed. She had no intention of placing herself in a position of weakness again. “I would rather live without love.”

  The duchess eyed her with tender regard. “You sound like one of my brothers.”

  “There’s no Mrs. Pirate?”

  She chuckled. “I’m afraid not.” Then, with more gravity: “Are you sure you’d rather live without love, Evie?”

  “Yes.” Her fingers tightened around the china. “I’m sure. I don’t want to give a man power over me—in any way.”

  “You might change your mind one day.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “The right man might come along and inspire you to take a chance at love. He might even steal your heart without you realizing it.”

  “Is that what happened to you, Belle?”

  “Yes, in a manner,” she said dryly. “I should have robbed his heart, the blackguard. I was the bloody pirate.”

  Evelyn choked on the tea. “You’re a pirate, too?”

  “Was, my dear. Well, I had a short-lived career at it, unlike my brothers, who took to it for years.”

  Quickly Evelyn patted her chin with a napkin to mop the dribble. “The duke married a pirate?”

  “Scandalous, I know…but the poor devil couldn’t live without me. Ouch!”

  Swiftly Evelyn set the cup and saucer on the table and rushed to kneel beside the duchess. She took the china, ringing in the woman’s shaky grip, and set it aside, too.

  “Are you all right, Belle?”

  “I’m fine.” She clutched her belly. “The babe just kicked, is all.” She looked down at her swollen midriff. “Anxious to come into the world, aren’t you?” She then muttered, “I bloody hope it’s a boy. I don’t think I can raise another girl like Alice.”

  “Do you want me to summon the duke?”

  “No, he’ll only fuss. The babe’s not due till the end of the month.”

  “Why don’t I help you to your room so you can rest?”

  “No, really, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, Belle. You have to rest.”

  The duchess regarded her with surprise. “You’ve become more headstrong, haven’t you, Evie?”

  “I insist, Belle.”

  “Yes, I gathered that.” She sighed in discontent. “Oh, very well. If you insist.”

  Chapter 24

  Adam hoped she would come.

  He had penned a note and slipped it under her door. Now he stood beside the pond and waited, listening to the soft and lyrical chirp of night critters, observing the hazy reflection of the castle in the smooth surface of the water.

  It was dark out, the warm air brimming with the scent of wildflowers. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrant summer breeze.

  Slowly he divested his clothes. In a pair of flannel drawers, he stepped closer to the water’s edge and immersed his foot in the cool pool before he waded through the tranquil waves. Making his way deeper toward the center of the pond, he arched his body forward and stroked across the healing waters.

  A good swim always put his mind, his muscles to right.

  Adam made a few laps before he sensed a pair of eyes watching him from the darkness.

  “Good evening, Evie.”

  Her shadow stirred beside a tree, and he shifted his eyes to capture the movement.

  “How good of you to join me,” he said.

  “Why did you summon me here?”

  He stilled, waist-deep in water. “I have something more to teach you.”

  “What?

  “Take off your clothes and come into the water.”

  She fell quiet.

  “You don’t have to remove all your clothes, Evie. Just strip down to your shift.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Are you still afraid of me?”

  Silence.

  He sighed. “I might have made a mistake many years ago, an unforgivable transgression against my brother. But I won’t hurt you. Besides, if you want to go to America, you will do as I say. I won’t let you board that pirate ship before I teach you how to swim.”

  She moved away from the tree and slowly approached. “Why do I need to learn how to swim?”

  “Any number of things could happen aboard a ship: you might slip and fall overboard, for one. I want to make sure you don’t drown during the voyage.”

  “What if I promise not to leave my cabin?”

  The ship might sink, he thought in morbid reflection.

  “That’s not good enough, Evie. You need to know how to swim. Come.” He stretched out his hand to encourage her. “It’s dark. No one will see you, I promise.”

  She let out a huff in protest before she reached for the buttons of her dress.

  Adam turned around to offer her privacy.

  After a few moments, he heard her tepid steps sink into the pond. Slowly he turned around.

  His heart shuddered at the sensual sight. Draped in a chemise, she waded through the still water, her trim figure cast in the milky white glow of the moon. The ghostly light bounced off her sooty locks, too, the tendrils twisted into a knot atop her head. She was a vision of loveliness—and he was having a devilishly hard time keeping his thoughts chaste.

  “It’s cold,” she griped.

  It was indeed. He noted the hard points of her nipples pushing against the immodest shift. The impulse to cup her bountiful breasts and chase away the chill gripped him.

  “Your body will adjust to the water,” he said roughly.

  Her skirt ballooned around her waist the deeper she entered the water, and she quickly tried to drown the garment by pressing her palms against it.

  He imagined lifting the feckless shift up over her shoulders and pressing his lips to every part of her body.

  Swiftly he smothered the thought.

  “I want you to lie across the water on your back, Evie.”

  “Why?”

  “So you can float. I want you to get a feel for the water.”

  She was uneasy; he could sense it.

  “You won’t sink. I’ll place my hand under your back to keep you buoyant.”

  At length she acquiesced and eased her torso backward.

  She gripped him for support. The muscles in his arm capered under her tight, almost clinging hold.

  He pressed his palms against the curve of her spine. “Stretch out your legs.”

  She did. The water rushed over her chest, filled the space between her breasts, soaking the shift.

  Adam’s body hardened. The diaphanous material hugged her every delicious curve, exposing each dip and groove and smooth expanse to his avid eyes.

  “Close your eyes, Evie. Feel the water.”

  Her lashes fluttered before she shut her eyes.

  “Now take a deep breath,” he said.

  Air filled her lungs, the sharp sound too audible to miss. He noted the quick rise of her breasts, too.

  The sultry image of her bare and plump breasts bobbing in the water came to play in his mind. He lingered over the wanton thought, imagined the tender way he would widen, then peel back the wet layer of her bodice to expose the heavy mounds of flesh. The raw joy he would take in parting his lips and taking the hard nub of her nipple into his mouth and sucking.

  The ache in his body pulsed with such vigor, he removed his hands from her back.

  She flapped her arms and disappeared beneath the surface of the water for a moment before he fished her out and propped her back on he
r toes.

  “I lost my grip,” he said tightly.

  My grip on reason.

  She sputtered and wiped the moisture from her eyes, her locks an adorable slop of curls around her head. “You tutor in swordplay and fisticuffs with more ease,” she charged.

  He was chagrined. “Why don’t we try it another way?”

  “Why don’t I go inside and dry off?”

  “You have to learn how to swim.” And he would teach her, despite the wild cravings in his heart. “Lie on your front this time.”

  He reckoned if she rested across her midriff, he wouldn’t see her swollen and tempting breasts. Perhaps then he could keep a cap on his wits.

  She let out a short huff before she shakily stretched out across the water.

  Adam maintained a firm hold of her belly as she dipped forward. But he stiffened at the sight of her plump arse, the round flesh so incredibly erotic. Blood hastened through his veins, pounded in his groin.

  He stifled a curse.

  “Stretch your legs and kick, Evie.”

  Lightly the water splashed.

  “Good,” he praised. “Move your arms now. Paddle.”

  She stopped kicking and stroked across the water instead.

  “Evie, you must do both movements at the same time.”

  She started to kick again.

  “Much better.” He moved beside her as she practiced, keeping her afloat. “Get accustomed to the rhythm. I’m going to let you go soon.”

  “No!”

  She wavered and dunked beneath the waves again.

  “I’ve got you.” He curled his arms around her waist and hoisted her back to her feet. Pressed against him in such an intimate embrace, she stirred the embers of desire in his belly. “You have to learn how to swim without my help.”

  “I can’t do this, Adam.”

  “It will take time to learn,” he assured her. “But we’ll practice in secret every night until the ship sets sail.”

  She appeared dubious. “Every night?”

  “Yes, you must learn to swim with confidence. Now let’s try again.”

  Shakily she assumed the position, and Adam once more supported her underside as she rehearsed the movements—and once more he was distracted by her plump behind.