STAG: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 7)

by Samantha Leal

  “You, Madame, are both regal and adorable,” he praised her, sitting upright and taking the hand that had delivered this downright disabling wave. “You completely and totally slay me.”

  Jasmin grinned, feeling her cheeks flush bright red as she considered these words.

  “How is it that a handsome sweetheart such as yourself lives here alone?” she asked him, eyebrows arched in a show of keen curiosity.

  Nathaniel sighed.

  “Well, at one point, Miss, I shared my estate with my wife, a wonderful woman named Eugenia who I nothing short of adored,” he admitted, his deeply accented voice softening and darkening as he added, “She fell ill two years ago, leaving me a lonesome widow here.”

  Jasmin gaped.

  “Oh no,” she gasped, grasping Nathaniel’s hand across the blanket as she considered these daunting words. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry, Nathaniel.”

  She took in her breath as her handsome companion lifted her hand to his full soft lips and graced her skin with a tender kiss.

  “It was indeed awful, Miss. Yet, while I always shall love and remember my dear wife, I feel that I must go on as well,” he revealed, adding as he inclined his head sharp in her direction, “So what about you, Miss? Why does such a bright, funny, totally charming woman remain unmarried?”

  Jasmin shrugged.

  “Women of my time don’t get married off the instant they clear puberty, and/or the moment that any willing and breathing gent pays their ransom, that is, dowry,” she informed him through gritted teeth. “For now, I want to focus on finding meaningful work in the profession I studied and prepared for in college.” She paused here, adding as she released a frustrated breath, “I love, more than anything, to read and write—so now I’d very much like to add my own classics to the literary canon. Or, at the very least, some stories that people will pay me to tell, so I can finally get down to the business of doing work that I have a passion for—that I know I could do so well, if someone would only give me the chance. I just want to write.”

  She fell silent here as she saw his azure eyes come alight with a warm, inspired glow; squeezing his fingers between hers as that charming smile returned in full force.

  “So you’re an authoress,” he affirmed, voice barely above a whisper. “A woman of letters. That is so fascinating.” He paused here, leaning forward to close all distance between them. “I will have you know, Miss, that I am a great fan of Miss Austen. And I am constantly seeking out fresh feminine voices at my own publishing house and printing press, Four Gables Press.”

  Jasmin started.

  “Wait, wut?” she inquired, thinking too late that her last words sounded highly awkward and decidedly less than literary. “You own a publishing company?”

  Nathaniel nodded.

  “Yes, among others,” he told her, adding with a ludicrous attempt at a casual shrug, “My family owns a number of companies of various sorts—with my favorite being the place that manufactures dreams and prints them on parchment. I love books, dear Jasmin, and I would love to read yours. What, in particular, do you like to write?”

  Jasmin grinned, feeling her cheeks flush as she considered this question.

  “Well, truth be told, I’m rather embarrassed to tell you,” she revealed, averting her gaze to the picnic blanket beneath her. “I like to write Victorian romance.”

  She took in her breath as his strong sturdy fingertips lifted her rounded chin; raising her head until their gazes locked between them.

  “Romance, hey?” he asked her on a whisper, his tone soft and alluring. “Well, you know Miss, before you venture to write about any subject, should you not research it first?” He paused here, adding on a sinful purr, “Thoroughly?”

  With these words, he surged inward to seize her lips in a hot, passionate kiss; his full moist lips massaging hers as she herself purred with contentment.

  Angling his sculpted head over hers to intensify the kiss, Nathaniel plied her lips with the sweetest affection as their tongues entangled between them.

  Jasmin wrapped her arms around his muscled shoulders and leaned full and hard into his kiss; her breasts crushing the surface of his hard massive chest as the feel of crisp afternoon winds and the song of nightingales overhead seemed to christen their newfound romance.

  Finally, Nathaniel broke their kiss, pulling back to stare deep into her eyes as he reached forth to stroke the whisper soft strands of her luxurious dark hair.

  “So love,” he released on a whisper, “did this experience educate you on the finer points of Victorian romance?”

  Jasmin thought a moment, then nodded.

  “Absolutely,” she affirmed, adding as she bit her fresh kissed lip, “Somehow, though, I do believe that I need to do far more research on this particular topic.” She paused here, gracing him with a sly grin. “Care to be my research buddy?”

  Nathaniel chuckled.

  “I have no earthly idea as to what that is,” he admitted, crossing his eyes at her modern vernacular. “But if it happens to involve you, milady, then it should be quite a lot of fun.”

  Chapter Five

  Somehow extricating herself from the ever desirable company of her sinfully handsome host, Jasmin retired to a master suite designated as her guest room. This proved to be an ebullient sleeping place, distinguished by a lace canopied bed doused in ivory silk comforters, polished brass-trimmed cherry wood bureaus, plush white carpeting, and a candle-lined brass chandelier that hung low from an ivory corniced ceiling.

  After receiving a romantic kiss good night that would fuel her dreams, Jasmin retreated to her private haven and slept the night away; waking only once in the very early morning, when she heard the door to her bedroom open, then close again, mysteriously, moments later.

  “The dude just can’t get enough of me—even has to watch me sleeping, ala Edward in Twilight,” she pondered, finally sitting up in bed and hopping to her feet.

  She gasped outright as she found the tall wooden bureau that bordered her room, beautifully transformed, filled with a luxurious plethora of dresses and formal gowns just awaiting her perusal.

  Throwing herself headfirst into a luxurious mass of silk, satin, brocade and jacquard, she laughed outright as she realized that every one of these glamorous dresses was custom made to fit her size and body type, unlike the mummifying costumes she was required to wear for the purpose of work.

  Lining the bottom of the bureau, she noted further, was an impressive array of corsets, pantaloons, chemises, gloves and slippers; luxurious accents that would serve to complete her glamorous new wardrobe.

  After selecting and donning a lush, floor-length royal blue day dress with a shining satin and lace overdress, a flowing satiny skirt, lines of ruffled lace surrounding the prim neckline and lining the wide sleeves, and a fitted bodice that came complete with a black lace overlay that adorned the front panel, she finally took leave of her private paradise and headed down a winding brass-railed staircase to the grand dining room where she’d agreed to meet Nathaniel for a proper English breakfast.

  Nathaniel praised her profusely on her choice of gown and accepted her gracious thanks for her luxurious wardrobe, which as it turned out, he had ordered direct from a London seamstress and delivered to her room early this morning. Then her doting host served her eggs, pastries, cinnamon tea, as well as biscuits topped with fresh churned butter and strawberry jam.

  “I opted not to set out the raspberry jam this morn,” he told her with a wink, taking her hand across the table as he continued, “I had no earthly wish to bring back bad memories for you.”

  Jasmin chuckled.

  “Good move,” she praised him, adding as she inclined her head sharp in his direction, “So I take it that you finally buy my preposterous story about travelling through time to meet you?”

  Nathaniel shook his head.

  “Well, frankly Darling, I truly do not see as to how it’s possible,” he admitted, adding quickly, “I do not, however, accuse you
of lying to me. I am passing sure that you hit your head and are suffering the after effects.”

  It was Jasmin’s turn to shake her head as she reached into the pocket of her day dress, withdrawing a thin slip of crème white paper as well as a round shiny coin.

  “As I undressed last night, I discovered some items that I brought with me when I crossed underneath the immortal limbo pole that separates the centuries, so to speak,” she told him, passing them into the hands of her curious looking host. “If you check the dates on this coin and this gas receipt, you will see that both hail from the year 2016. Plus, I am passing certain that nothing in Victorian England cost nearly as much as gas does in the 21st century.” She paused here, adding with a firm, sharp nod, “It is more than obvious that both of these little doo hickies came straight from 2016. And so, for that matter, do I.”

  Inspecting the items presented with no small degree of interest, Nathaniel’s eyes flew wide as he seemed to focus on the dates indicated.

  “So what do you think?” Jasmin pressed him, watching closely for his reaction as he took a second look at the coin and the receipt.

  She took in her breath as her doting host surged across the table; searing her lips with a passionate kiss as the evidence of her origins went clattering unceremonious to the table beneath them.

  Swallowing her startled breath, Nathaniel plied her lips with the sweetest kisses as his long, wet tongue entangled, tight and sweet, with hers; laving the roof of her mouth as his sumptuous lips romanced her with soothing, massaging strokes.

  Fully and finally breaking their kiss, Nathaniel stared deep into her eyes and whispered, “I think, love, that you are a very special gift, sent to me through time. A beautiful wind and breath of life that has flown into my house and changed everything—brightened everything.”

  Searing her with a dazzling white-toothed smile, Nathaniel leaned forward and tilted his forehead gently against hers; speaking just as much to himself as to her as he released on a whisper, “And now that this beautiful, mysterious wraith has come to my life and home at just the right time, what on earth will I do with her first?” He paused here, adding as he snapped his nimble fingers, “Ah, I have it! I do believe I shall teach her my very favorite game—one that I have enjoyed many a time in the privacy of my own estate. And it just happens to involve a great deal of physical activity.”

  Moments later, Jasmin found herself on the sprawling front lawn of her host’s emerald grassed estate; stuck in a rather precarious position as her host loomed just behind her.

  “Are you altogether certain that this is your idea of fun?” she asked him over her sturdy shoulder, adding as she expelled with a long, hard breath, “I, for one, am not at all accustomed to bending forward this far and this long—especially right after breakfast.”

  The sound of Nathaniel’s deep melodious chuckle served to soothe her senses; as did the sudden presence of his strong sturdy hand right square on her shoulder.

  “Just relax, my darling, your moves are all natural and entirely fabulous,” he reassured her, adding in a whisper, “At this point, all you have to do is push forward just a bit and give the ball a good strong knock.”

  Acting immediately on this advice, a determined Jasmin took her croquet mallet firmly in hand and knocked a round, ruby red ball through the center of the little, tiny semi-circular thing that stuck obtrusively out of the ground. And she was sure that this was the technical term for the curious object that seemed to play a major role in the time honored game of croquet.

  “Perfect, Love!” Nathaniel applauded her, gracing her shoulder with an affirming clap, “You have mastered the game of croquet.”

  Springing upright with a triumphant whoop, his companion engaged him in a celebratory high five as she exclaimed, “Well, I mastered PlayStation and karaoke, back in my own time—so I guess that I can add croquet to my list of completely worthless things at which I happen to be quite good.”

  Nathaniel guffawed outright.

  “Well, if you like, Darling, I would be more than pleased to teach you another useless skill that happens to be quite enjoyable,” he offered, arching an inquisitive eyebrow to a downright regal effect. “Care to try ballroom dancing? As it turns out, one of my partners in the publishing company is hosting a cotillion this eve at his estate in Birmingham.” He paused here, adding with a hefty sigh, “Ever since I lost my dearest dance partner, I frankly have detested all manner of balls and cotillions—and, for that matter, most other social events. Yet, in your lovely company, Jasmin, I do believe that I shall thoroughly enjoy dancing the night away.”

  Chapter Six

  “So what is this all about? I’m standing here right smack in the middle of a friggin’ Victorian ballroom!”

  Standing right smack in the middle of a friggin’ Victorian ballroom, Jasmin stared with wide eyes at her ethereal surroundings. She beheld a room bordered on all sides by crystalline mirrors and topped by an ivory corniced ceiling that came further adorned with a full bank of decorative chandeliers—sleek brass luminaries that cast the entire room in an aura of courtly romance.

  Although clad in a resplendent, full-skirted satin gown that fell graceful to her feet—a dazzling effort of burgundy and gold that came complete with a lush floral print corset and bustled flowing skirt and a refined black lace trim—Jasmin felt a bit awkward and out of place in such upscale surroundings. Especially since she failed to come armed with her shield of a meal cart, demanding of everyone within earshot, ‘Would you like chutney with that?’

  “So what do we do here?” she asked Nathaniel, himself adorned in a suit of royal blue silk that molded and accentuated his firm muscled body; a sharp evening suit accented by knee high black leather boots and a slick white shirt underneath.

  She took in her breath as her attentive date swept her up in two muscled arms, sweeping her also onto the surface of a clean tiled dance floor.

  “We dance, Love,” he informed her on a whisper, continuing as he pulled her closer to him, “That’s what we do here.”

  Jasmin felt all tension fall immediately away from her as her lover swept her, in a graceful flourish, across the breadth of the polished floor; engaging her in a spirited reel that also managed to be highly intimate in spirit.

  Wrapping her arms around his broad muscled shoulders as her buxom breasts crushed his broad massive chest, Jasmin thrilled as their hips also joined between them to claim a flawless rhythm. Their dance proved one that kept time with the music of a lone violinist that played his classically influenced tunes in a far corner of the room.

  After learning more than her fair share of ballroom dance steps, earning praise as she did so from her ever attentive instructor, Jasmin turned the tables on an amused Nathaniel by teaching him some of her favorite moves, ripped straight from her own era.

  The entire ballroom looked on with keen amusement as the vivacious newcomer to their elite social scene—often known as the Ton—engaged her date in a number of curious, if highly energetic, dance moves that seemed to know little rhyme or reason in their performance. Her movements seemed to prompt some to wonder if the woman who performed them had been possessed by some form of demonic force—if not an out and out case of the dreaded St. Vitus Dance.

  Showing off some most curious moves that she identified under the equally curious names of Electric Slide, the Achy Breaky and Gangnam Style, she soon encouraged everyone in the room to form what she called a ‘dance line’, mimicking her outrageous and slightly uncoordinated steps as the poor wide eyed violinist struggled to play along.

  Nathaniel, for his part, claimed the head of the line as he launched his tall, muscular body wholeheartedly into the fun of the evening. He followed the lead of his enchanting date as they frolicked to the jaunty beat of what Jasmin so adorably referred to as ‘One mean fiddle’.

  He marveled as she persuaded a whole gaggle of prim and proper Victorian ladies to ‘raise the roof’; lifting their lace-gloved hands in the air like they just didn
’t care.

  “Isn’t she just a delight?” he inquired of everyone who would listen, doing his best to master every one of his newly acquired dance steps.

  “You’re rockin’ it, babe!” Jasmin praised him at one point.

  Nathaniel grinned.

  “Good to know that I do indeed—um—rock,” he replied, shaking his fist in the air to an adorable effect.

  Finally towards the end of the evening, the couple settled once again into a romantic dance; their bodies moving closer together as he wrapped his strong arms tight around her waist and cradled her close.

  “I must say it, Jasmin. This night has been magical,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer still. “You’ve brought so much light and color into my life, and so much laughter. You truly are a gift to me, milady.”

  Jasmin smiled.

  “Well, you ain’t so bad yourself,” she praised him, hugging his hard-planed body to hers as she rested her head on his sculpted shoulder. “Seriously, Nathaniel, this night—along with every other moment we’ve spent together—has been absolutely magical. I really do feel like I’m living the dream, and have only you to thank.”

  With these words, the impassioned woman erased all distance between them, searing his full sumptuous lips with a hot passionate kiss. They lingered for just a moment as their mouths merged and melded to convey the deepest passion, and Nathaniel ran his magical fingertips down the length of his lady’s spine.

  Jasmin moaned, frustrated, moments later, as her besotted dance partner broke their kiss; drawing slightly away from her with an apologetic smile as he whispered, “As much as I dearly would love to continue kissing you, love, I fear that the dictates of my antiquated society command us to stop.”

  Taking a quick cursory look around them, Jasmin bit her lip as she noted the exorbitant number of cold, condemning stares being shot in their direction.