Debbie Raleigh - Some Like It Brazen.doc

by Some Like It Brazen (lit)

  Narrowing her gaze, Bianca ruthlessly yanked at his sleeve, pulling him downward to hiss directly in his ear.

  “Listen to me very carefully, Alexander. You are going to the card room and putting an end to this.”

  He stilled at the threat in her voice. “Or?”

  “Or I shall tell all of society that those beautiful baubles you so generously bestow upon your mistresses are nothing more than paste.”

  She heard his sharply drawn breath. “Now, Bianca, be reasonable…”

  Stepping back, she pointed toward the nearby card room, her expression grim.

  “Go.”

  “Traitor,” he muttered as he pushed from the column and began battling his way through the surging crowd.

  Bianca trailed in his wake, discretely slipping down the short hall next to the card room.

  Once out of sight of the guests, she anxiously smoothed her hands over her skirts as she waited for her cousin to reappear.

  Damn, Stephen, she silently cursed.

  She understood his frustration. His need to seek vengeance for his disappointments.

  She felt the same shimmering need within herself.

  But she would not tolerate having Edward harmed.

  Not when he was nothing more than an innocent victim caught in the fray.

  She paced from one end of the hall to the other. Then paced again. How the deuce long did it take to collect a gentleman from a card table?

  Just on the point of daring scandal and charging into the strictly male territory, Bianca caught sight of Alexander carefully maneuvering a decidedly unsteady Edward through the door.

  “Oh, dear God.” Moving to the edge of the hall, Bianca waved an imperious hand. “Alexander, bring him this way.”

  There was a momentary pause before her cousin gave a faint shrug and obligingly turned to enter the hall.

  “As you see, I have rescued your farmer as you demanded.”

  Edward merely smiled, his eyes unfocused.

  “Follow me,” she commanded, turning on her heel to lead the two away from the salon. Bypassing several public rooms, Bianca at last entered a back drawing room that was secluded enough to ensure a measure of privacy. “Place him upon the sofa,” she murmured, wincing when Alexander casually toppled the large Earl upon the cushions. “For goodness’ sakes, be careful.”

  Straightening, Alexander impatiently smoothed his sadly rumpled coat.

  “He is cast to the wind, not on the verge of death, Bianca. No doubt he would be happier if we were to toss him into the nearest carriage and have him hauled home.”

  Taking Alexander’s hand, Bianca led him firmly back to the door.

  “I will call for his carriage once he has managed to regain his senses,” she whispered, her glance remaining upon the large Earl sprawled upon the sofa. With a lock of chestnut hair tumbled onto his brow and his eyes hooded by his long sweep of lashes, he appeared heartrendingly vulnerable. “I will not allow him to be the source of malicious amusement for the guests.”

  For some reason Alexander’s brows lifted in surprise. “You intend to remain here with him?”

  “Of course.”

  “My sweet, while most might claim I am the proverbial sinner about to toss the first stone, I would point out that it is hardly wise to remain closeted alone with a gentleman. Especially when anyone might stumble upon you.”

  Her chin tilted. “This is my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  Bianca heaved an impatient sigh. “Stephen would never have done such a thing if he had not been wounded from my father’s refusal to wed me.”

  Alexander’s lip curled. Like her father, he had never been particularly fond of Lord Aldron.

  “I am not nearly so certain of that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aldron is always swift to prey upon the weak and defenseless.”

  Her brows snapped together. “Alexander, that is a horrid thing to say.”

  “It is true enough,” he drawled. “Even if you refuse to acknowledge your Galahad might possess a few nasty flaws.”

  Bianca grimaced. It was entirely her fault that Stephen was feeling betrayed. She had blatantly encouraged his attentions. She had led him to believe that they would be wed.

  Now he was suffering the embarrassment of having been found publicly lacking as a son-in-law to the Duke of Lockharte.

  “He is not the only one with flaws,” she muttered.

  Alexander cast a glance toward the silent gentleman across the room.

  “You are determined upon this course?”

  “Yes, I will lock the door so that no one can stumble upon us until I have Edward sober enough to return to his carriage.”

  A mysterious smile abruptly touched his lips. “So be it.”

  “Alexander?”

  “Yes?”

  She regarded him with suspicion. “You are behaving very oddly. What is it?”

  His smile widened. “Just pondering the notion you might very well have met your match. Take care, my sweet.”

  Flicking a negligent finger over her cheek, Alexander turned to leave the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Still frowning, Bianca reached out to slide the bolt into position.

  Really, her cousin could be most exasperating. Met her match? What the devil was that supposed to mean?

  With a shake of her head, she turned and headed firmly toward the sofa and settled next to Edward so she could pull him gently into her arms.

  Whatever Alexander was implying, she had no time to fret over it now. She had a father determined to wed her to the first fortune he could latch on to.

  An ex-fiancé who was clearly furious at having been thrust aside.

  And a drunken earl who had to be kept from making an unwitting fool of himself.

  That was quite enough.

  Even for the daughter of a duke.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Although Edward had always dismissed his Aunt Esmeralda’s prophecy of his ultimate march into the fires of the netherworld, he suddenly realized he might very well have taken a detour toward the proverbial path of hell.

  It had not been an intentional detour, he reassured himself.

  When Aldron the Pestilent had led him into the card room and settled him among the gathered gentlemen, it had seemed amusing to maintain his image of a bumbling buffoon. After all, the dashing blue bloods had been so painfully eager to ply him with drink and fleece him blind, he could hardly disappoint them.

  And if he were not nearly so inebriated as they thought him to be, and if he was winning far more hands than he was losing…well, that was their bloody problem.

  They deserved to be taught a lesson in manners.

  But while Edward could convince himself that there was nothing wrong in deceiving Lord Aldron, and even the stranger who had come to haul him from the room, he could not pretend continuing the charade with Bianca made him anything other than a perfect cad.

  My God, what sort of man would play a drunken sod simply so he could enjoy the feel of her arms about him?

  His heart jolted as her fingers lifted to brush his hair from his forehead, her sweet breath brushing his cheek. Damn. He heaved a rueful sigh.

  He was surely going straight to hell.

  But for the moment, he could not make himself care.

  “Edward.”

  His lips twitched at her soft whisper. “Mmmmm?”

  “Do you have need of anything? Perhaps some coffee?”

  He covertly shifted closer to her soft curves. Oh, he was a horrible, horrible wretch.

  “No, I just wish to rest here a moment.”

  “Of course.” There was a pause before she heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Edward, I am very sorry.”

  She was sorry? “Whatever for?”

  “I—” She abruptly halted, as if carefully considering her words. Odd, that. “For you having to endure what passes as amusement for those idiots. They should be heartily ashamed of themselves.”


  Edward briefly considered the near two hundred pounds he had managed to win before being physically hauled from the table. A smile curved his lips.

  “I doubt shame is what they feel.”

  She sighed. “No, I fear not.”

  He shifted to study her pale visage. “Did you send in the rather large gentleman to rescue me from the den of iniquity?”

  “The rather large gentleman is my cousin Alexander, Lord Calloway,” she admitted, “and yes, I did request that he collect you.”

  “Why?”

  “You are not yet accustomed to such entertainments. And…” Her voice trailed away.

  “And?”

  “And I believe those dolts wished to embarrass you.”

  “Ah.” He held her dark gaze with his own. “You were concerned for me?”

  She bit her bottom lip, as if reluctant to confess her feelings. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “As I said, you are not yet used to such entertainments.”

  He reached up to grasp her hand. He would not allow her to evade him. Not when her answer was so strangely important.

  “No, Bianca, those gentlemen no doubt fleece every greenhorn that arrives in London, none of whom I am certain you have gone to the trouble of rescuing.” He brushed his lips softly over her fingers, relishing the taste of her skin. “Why were you concerned for me? Could it be that you care, just a little?”

  Even in the shadows of the room, he could detect the faint blush that stole beneath her skin.

  “Of course I care. I hope that I can count you as a friend.”

  Edward abruptly shifted and turned, managing to trap her in the corner of the sofa before she could guess his intent.

  “Friend?”

  She regarded him with a wary expression, no doubt sensing the tension humming through his body.

  “Does that trouble you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  Planting his hands on either side of her head, he allowed himself to drink in her exotic beauty.

  “I would very much like to be your friend, Bianca, but that is never going to be enough,” he confessed in thick tones.

  Her lips parted. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean this…”

  Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head. Every fiber of him longed to pounce and conquer. To take what he had ached to possess since he had caught a glimpse of her across the room. But he ruthlessly battled back his primitive instincts.

  Stark, panting lust had its place, but this was not it.

  Not with Bianca.

  She was not just a beautiful woman that stirred his senses. She was the intriguing, maddening creature who was rapidly becoming an important part of his existence.

  Allowing her ample opportunity to protest, Edward softly brushed his mouth over her own. It was no more than the merest touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of searing heat through his body.

  Holy hell.

  With a groan, he feathered kisses upon her mouth.

  “I have wanted to do this for days,” he muttered.

  “Then why haven’t you?” she whispered.

  He shivered. She might be too innocent to realize the danger of the heat that smoldered between them, but he wasn’t. With every kiss it became more and more difficult to restrain the need to ease his aching passion in the sweet heat of her body.

  “If you knew what I was feeling, you would not encourage me,” he muttered as he moved to explore her cheeks and the line of her jaw. She tasted of paradise. Sweet heaven. And he was quite certain he would never have enough of her.

  She gave a small sigh of pleasure. “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Sweeping his tongue along the curve of her ear he returned to claim her lips in a demanding kiss.

  Beneath him Bianca stirred, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders even as her lips parted in welcome. Edward was swift to take advantage as he dipped his tongue into the moist heat of her mouth. Raw desire sparked between them, shimmering through his blood and hardening his muscles.

  His breath caught in his throat as her tongue tangled with his own. Oh dear God, she was capable of making him forget everything but the need to know more of her.

  His hands framed her countenance, his heart thudding against his chest.

  Outside the room the music played and the guests enjoyed their foolish society games, but in the silence of the parlor nothing mattered but the feel of Bianca. This was right. Honest. And swiftly charging out of control.

  “Muirnin, tell me to halt and I will,” he husked as his fingers stroked down the length of her throat.

  Her hands shifted to tangle in his hair. “I do not wish you to halt.”

  He pulled back to meet the hectic glitter in her dark eyes. “This is dangerous. More dangerous than you know.”

  With a smile that sent a shaft of need straight through him, the vixen firmly tugged his head downward.

  “Then teach me,” she whispered.

  Bianca was innocent, not stupid.

  She knew she was playing with fire.

  Good heavens, she already felt singed.

  But though the seemingly endless lectures she had received over the years on the subject of what was acceptable for a young lady of society had been drilled painfully into her head, her heart was not paying the least heed to them now.

  Not when his kisses were making her head spin and his fingers were sending the most astonishing sensations racing through her body. Proper or not, she wanted to know more of the pleasure to be discovered in his strong arms.

  Tugging his head down, Bianca heaved a soft sigh as his lips closed over her own. A heat that she felt to her very toes sizzled through her body. Everything tingled inside her. As if she were filled with the finest champagne.

  She heard him give a low growl as his tongue swept between her lips, thrusting in a slow rhythm that was causing the most peculiar ache to clutch deep within her.

  Instinctively she arched closer to the hardness of his body. She needed…something. Something more.

  “Edward,” she breathed as his lips shifted to burn a trail of kisses down the curve of her neck. “Please.”

  “I know, muirnin,” he muttered, shifting until he was off the sofa and kneeling between her legs.

  Bianca was briefly shocked by the intimate position until his clever fingers tugged at the ribbons of her bodice. With satisfying speed he had tugged down her gown and then her shift, lifting her straining breasts out of her corset with gentle care.

  Oh…oh, yes. He obviously knew precisely what he was doing.

  “My God,” he breathed before he was leaning forward and tugging one hardened nipple into his mouth.

  Bianca nearly swooned.

  Who knew such pleasure existed?

  Who could ever have suspected?

  Her fingers clutched at his hair as she felt the stroke of his tongue and the rasp of his whiskers against her sensitive flesh.

  “That feels so good,” she whispered.

  “You feel so good. So bloody good.”

  He shifted to attend to her neglected breast, teasing the hard bud with his teeth before closing his lips about it.

  Bianca moaned as he leaned more heavily against her, his body pressed to the juncture of her legs. With every movement, he brushed against the vulnerable region, sending a jolt of breathtaking excitement racing straight to the pit of her stomach.

  Her hands restlessly moved to stroke over his shoulders, delighting in the feel of his hard, rippling muscles beneath her fingers. He was so solid, so utterly male.

  “Muirnin,” he moaned, lifting his head to bury his lips in the curve of her neck. “I want to please you.”

  His breath whispered against her skin even as she felt the hem of her gown being tugged relentlessly upward. Bianca shivered as his fingers stroked over her silk stockings. Raw heat streaked through her blood.

  “Yes…oh yes.”

  She
nearly leaped off the sofa as his fingers at last reached the bare skin of her thighs. Dear God. She felt as if she were on fire. As if she were suddenly simmering with molten lava.

  Claiming her lips in a devouring kiss, Edward continued his soft caresses. His fingers stroking higher and higher. And then without warning he discovered the moist heat between her legs.

  Bianca would have cried out in shocked pleasure if his mouth had not covered her own. Nothing had ever felt so wondrous as the clever finger that gently slid into her damp heat.

  She grasped at his arms, her fingers digging into his coat as she instinctively arched against his invading touch.

  With a slow thrust he pressed his finger deeper, using his thumb to rub against her sensitive nub. Oh lord. There was a pressure building deep inside her as his finger slid in and out of her. A delicious, aching pressure that was threatening to shatter her.

  “Edward…please,” she husked.

  She was not quite certain what she was pleading for, but thankfully Edward seemed to know precisely what she needed.

  Trailing a string of searing kisses down her neck, he flicked his tongue along the line of her collarbone. The rhythm of his finger quickened as his tongue continued to swirl over her skin. And then, dipping his head, he latched his mouth onto the tip of her breast and suckled with sweet insistence.

  Unaware she was even moving, Bianca wrapped her legs about Edward’s waist, her entire body arching. She was hovering upon the crest of a most astonishing sensation. Just for a breathless minute the world seemed to stop. A perfect, crystallized moment.

  Then, with a magical stroke of his fingers, she was vaulted over the edge, and a cry of sheer delight was wrenched from her throat.

  Blasted, blooming, bloody hell.

  That had been…magnificent.

  Still shaking from the force of her climax, Bianca was barely aware of Edward tenderly smoothing her dress back into order, or even joining her on the sofa to bundle her in his arms.

  “Bianca?” he murmured softly.

  Feeling oddly lethargic, Bianca allowed herself to rest against the hard planes of his chest.

  “What?”

  “Look at me.”

  With an effort she tilted her head upward. “Yes?”