Debbie Raleigh - Some Like It Brazen.doc

by Some Like It Brazen (lit)

  Bianca grimaced as she pushed the plate aside. “I am not hungry.”

  “Good lord.” A silver brow arched. “If you have lost your appetite, that can only mean that something is troubling you. Do you wish to tell me what it is?”

  The moment had arrived, and Bianca inwardly squared her shoulders. On this occasion her father would not best her.

  Not this time.

  “Lord Harrington wishes to offer for my hand,” she stated bluntly.

  “Does he?”

  Bianca did not trust her father’s mild tone. It always meant he was one step ahead of her. Damn him.

  “You do not seem particularly surprised.”

  His lips twisted with a humorless smile. “I am not an utter fool, Bianca. I am well aware you have done everything in your power to toss yourself in the path of the Peasant Earl.”

  Her brows snapped together. “I have asked you not to call him by that horrid name.”

  “And I have asked you to stay far away from the encroacher. Neither of us seems capable of following simple requests.”

  She pushed herself from the table and rose to her feet. “I would if your requests made the least amount of sense. You have no right to insult Edward. You do not know him as I do.”

  Far from impressed, the Duke leaned back in his chair. “The words sound astonishingly familiar. Were you not just making the same plea for your dearest Lord Aldron?”

  Bianca flinched as she recalled the distasteful confrontation from the night before.

  “I suppose I deserve that,” she admitted softly. “You were right. I did not know Stephen as I thought I did.”

  There was a tense pause as her father rose to his feet and moved to stand at her side. A dangerous glitter hardened his eyes.

  “Is there something I should know, my dear? Something that might call for a dawn appointment?”

  “No.” She reached out to grasp his arm, horrified at the mere thought of her father risking his life in such an absurd manner. “You will do nothing so ridiculous.”

  There was another pause before he gave a lift of his shoulder. “Perhaps you are right. Aldron is not worth rising for at such an ungodly hour. Such a worthless scoundrel will meet his end eventually.”

  “Edward is not at all like him,” she burst out abruptly.

  “How can you be so certain?”

  There were a dozen reasons she was certain. Edward’s steady nature. His determination to care for others. His patience. His unwavering loyalty.

  Still, she was honest enough to admit that she had been easily dazzled by Stephen.

  What if she were allowing herself to be blinded once again?

  “That is the question, is it not?” she demanded wryly, her sigh echoing through the room. “How did you know you wished to wed Mother?”

  There was a startled pause before her father cleared his throat. “It was never my decision. Our parents arranged the marriage while we were both still in the cradle. It was the wish of the King. Not an unusual circumstance at that time.”

  Bianca abruptly frowned. “You were forced to wed?”

  He shrugged. “It was my duty, yes, but it is one that I have never regretted. Although it might not have been a love match, we have managed to be quite happy together. Indeed our relationship has been far more enduring than most.”

  She did not doubt the truth of his words. Her parents were not the sort to display their affection in public; they were a breath from royalty, after all, and it simply was not done. But she never doubted their unwavering dedication to one another.

  “You do not believe in love?”

  “I believe that most people mistake attraction for love. Such a shallow relationship is bound to wither and die. True love grows out of respect and friendship and mutual affection.” He searched her countenance with a curious expression. “Do you believe yourself to be in love with the man?”

  She heaved a frustrated sigh. It was easy to believe herself in love. Certainly there was a tingle of happiness whenever he was near. And the mere thought of having him disappear from her life was enough to make her heart halt in panic.

  But she had thought herself in love with Stephen, had she not? A mistake that could very well have led to disaster.

  No.

  The word echoed through her mind without warning and without hesitation.

  Edward was nothing, nothing like Stephen. There was nothing shallow or self-serving about him.

  More importantly, he genuinely loved her.

  Her. Bianca. Not Lady Bianca, the daughter of the Duke of Lockharte, not the toast of the season. Not the elusive Ice Princess. Her.

  “Yes, I do love him,” she admitted, an unwitting smile curving her lips.

  Her father regarded her closely. “As you loved Stephen?”

  “My feelings are not at all the same.” Her smile slowly widened. “With Stephen I tried to convince myself I was in love simply because I wanted the freedom and excitement he offered. With Edward I have done everything possible not to fall in love. He is not at all what I thought I desired in a husband. But in spite of myself I cannot halt my feelings. He may not be dashing or adventurous or desperate to make a splash among society, but he possesses the most amazing ability to make me happy just by being near.”

  Her father reached out to grasp her chin in a firm grip. “Bianca…”

  Her gaze narrowed. “If you are about to lecture me upon the unworthiness of Lord Harrington, Father, you might as well save your breath. He is no rake and no fortune hunter. He is not even impressed with the knowledge I happen to be the daughter of a duke.”

  “There will always be those who consider him an encroacher, not to mention the fact he has made dangerous enemies among the Parliament. As his wife, you will suffer any number of slights and insults.”

  Bianca did not so much as bat an eye. Good lord, that was her very last concern.

  Pulling from his grip, she planted her hands on her hips. “Slights and insults such as being shunned by Lady Michaels because you called her husband a lack-witted buffoon?” she demanded sweetly. “Or being refused entry into the Ladies Horticultural Society because Aunt Lottie became foxed and claimed the ladies were all French spies and were using the meetings as a means to pass their nefarious information? Or—”

  “Enough,” the Duke growled.

  “Perhaps it is Edward who should consider whether he wishes to be tarnished with my standing among society,” she pointed out.

  His lips gave a reluctant twitch, but there was no mistaking the warning in his eyes.

  “This is no frivolous game, my dear. Once you are wed, there can be no altering your choice.”

  She waited for the surge of panic that should have raced through her at his foreboding words. This was the most important decision she would ever make in her life.

  Strangely, however, she felt nothing more than a warm glow of satisfaction that lodged deep in her heart. A glow that she was quite certain was directly connected to Lord Harrington.

  “I am well aware of what I am doing, Father.” She stepped forward, sticking her finger directly into his face. “I will have Edward as my husband. And if you attempt to stand in my way, I shall prove just how much your daughter I am.”

  An unreadable smile settled on his lips. “So be it, my dear.”

  The night was perfect.

  Warm, with just the faintest hint of a perfumed breeze. A star-spattered sky. A full moon that carpeted the garden in a shimmer of silver. And in the distance the call of a nightingale.

  A night for seduction.

  Or at least it would be a night for seduction if only Bianca were not all alone in the secluded grotto at the back of the garden.

  Tugging at the belt of her sheer satin wrapper, she paced the marble floor.

  In any other young and very innocent woman, her pacing might have been an indication of nerves. Or indecision. Or even fear.

  Bianca, however, was nothing more than impatient.

  Blast
the aggravating man. He had deliberately stirred her passions to a fever pitch. With every touch, every kiss, he had taught her the needs of her body she had never understood until he had entered her life.

  Now she could not even think of him without her heart pounding and her body clenching with awareness. Or sleep through the night without tossing and turning as she battled the empty ache deep within her.

  She was coiled so tightly she feared she might abruptly shatter, and it was all Lord bloody Harrington’s fault.

  So where the devil was he?

  Spinning on her heel, Bianca barely squashed her instinctive scream as she caught sight of the tall, very male form blocking the entrance. Good lord, how could such a large man move with such silence?

  “Edward.” She pressed a hand to her racing heart. A racing that was not entirely due to her brief fright. “At last. I had begun to fear you would never put in an appearance.”

  Standing against the door jamb, Edward allowed his gaze to slowly roam over her slender form barely hidden by the sheer robe. Bianca shivered at the tension that abruptly sizzled in the air.

  Even at a distance she could feel the desire that hummed through his body.

  “I told myself I would not,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  She moved forward, instinctively drawn to his side.

  “Why?”

  In the moonlight his features were shadowed in mystery, but she did not miss the hectic glitter in the hazel eyes. A smile touched her lips. He was not nearly so in control of his emotions as he desired her to believe.

  “If I am to be asking your father for your hand on the morrow, it did not seem at all proper to be seducing you in his garden tonight.”

  She stepped close enough for his heat to cloak about her.

  “What changed your mind?”

  His hand lifted to stroke over the raven curls that tumbled well past her shoulders.

  “I was at Lady Dellington’s doorstep when my very noble intentions were tossed into the gutter.” His hand shifted to stroke her sensitive nape. “Right or wrong, there was not a force great enough to keep me from this garden tonight.”

  Bianca nearly purred at the delicious sensations feathering down her spine. She was melting. And he had not even kissed her yet.

  Who could have dreamed a man’s touch could create such magic?

  “Thank God,” she breathed as she reached up to rest her hands on his broad chest. “Just think of the scandal should I have been forced to arrive at Lady Dellington’s and lure you away from the dance floor before all those guests.”

  Beneath her fingers she could feel the abrupt leap of his heart. Her smile widened. It was a decidedly heady thrill to realize she could affect him with the same power he wielded over her.

  “And how would you have lured me, muirnin?” he murmured.

  Emboldened by his ready response and her own absolute commitment to this man, Bianca allowed her hands to wander over his rigid muscles. There were no barriers to stand between them. Nothing to halt them from exploring the passion that held both of them in its grip.

  Regarding him from beneath lowered lashes, she trailed her hands down his arms and tugged at the dove gray gloves that perfectly matched his jacket.

  “I suppose I might have started by ridding you of these,” she replied, pulling off the gloves and tossing them aside. Then, watching his jaw tighten and nostrils flare, she daringly turned her attention to the ivory buttons of his jacket. Her movements were not nearly so graceful or seductive as she might have wished. Hardly surprising considering her heart was pounding and her fingers shaking. Still, she managed to wrangle free the buttons, and at last she was smoothing the jacket from his body. Their gazes met and tangled as she dropped it onto the floor. “And that.”

  An arm lashed tightly about her waist as the other reached behind them to firmly shut the door.

  “A suitable beginning,” he rasped.

  “Thank you.”

  His head lowered until she could feel his breath against her temple.

  “And now?”

  Tiny sparks seemed to flow through her blood as she moved to untangle his cravat.

  “Mmm…still too many layers,” she whispered.

  His breath hissed through his teeth as his cravat joined his jacket on the floor. With jerky motions he moved to roughly drag his linen shirt over his head.

  Bianca’s breath lodged in her throat as the moonlight danced over his bare chest. Unlike society gentlemen, Edward was a man accustomed to hard labor. It was obvious in the smooth bulk of his muscles and bronzed cast of his skin. A virile, earthy male who had been sculpted to sheer perfection.

  Her hands lifted to touch the faint spattering of hair that covered his chest. Her stomach clenched with excitement at the fascinating contrast to the heated silk of his skin. She had not expected to find such beauty in the male form. Intrigued, she brushed over the flat nipples that hardened in swift reaction.

  “Dear God, Bianca,” he moaned, his hands reaching up to cover her own.

  She glanced up to meet his heated gaze. “Am I being too brazen?”

  “Never,” he breathed. “I would never have you withhold anything from me. Especially not your passion.”

  “Then teach me,” she demanded softly. “Teach me how to love you.”

  A shudder shook his body as he held her gaze and slowly guided her hands downward.

  “You cannot know the nights I have dreamed of this moment, muirnin,” he rasped. “In my thoughts I have been your lover since the moment we kissed.”

  “I do hope that I pleased you in your dreams,” she teased.

  “Almost more than I could bear,” he breathed. “But it was nothing compared to reality.”

  She had to force herself to recall to breathe as her hands reached to the waistband of his breeches. With a minimum of fuss, Edward managed the hooks, and then her fingers were wrapping about the hardness of his manhood.

  It was larger than she had expected. Shockingly large. And hot to the touch.

  More than a bit curious, she traced her fingers over the rounded tip and then down the shaft to the soft sack below. It seemed impossible to believe that such a thing could fit within her, but she was wise enough to realize that men and women had been managing to make love since the beginning of time. There was bound to be some means to make it work.

  “Holy hell,” Edward moaned, his fingers closing over her own as he taught her to pleasure his straining erection.

  “This feels good?”

  “So bloody good that the night promises to be over before it has even begun,” he groaned, firmly taking her hand and placing it upon his chest.

  On the point of protesting, Bianca was pleasantly distracted as his head lowered and he captured her lips in a fierce, demanding kiss.

  White-hot heat seared through her as she wrapped her arms about his neck. She trembled as his hands slid down her spine to settle upon her hips. His heat and scent filled her mind until there was no thought but of his kiss, his touch.

  Gently his tongue reached out to part her lips and slip within her mouth. Bianca eagerly opened to his caress, hesitantly touching his tongue with her own.

  Edward growled deep in his throat as his hands ran a restless path up the curve of her waist and tugged loose the satin belt. Then, pushing aside the wrapper, he at last cupped the heavy fullness of her breasts. Bianca nearly sank to her knees.

  Blessed heaven, yes. Her eyes slid shut as she savored the feel of his fingers teasing her nipples into tender peaks. Sharp-edged pleasure shot through her body, lodging in the pit of her stomach. She pressed against his hard form, greedy for more.

  “Edward.”

  His lips nuzzled her cheek as his thumbs continued to caress her aching nipples.

  “I want you, Bianca,” he whispered. “I need to be in you.”

  The stark words sent a shiver of longing down her spine.

  “I am yours, Edward.”

  “Mine.” He pulled
back to regard her with a heated gaze. “Yes…mine at last.”

  Her heart did a startled flip as he reached down to scoop her off her feet and moved into the shadows of the grotto. Bianca had never felt so small or so fragile as she did in his strong arms, and she turned her head to nuzzle the bare skin of his chest.

  This was what it meant to be a woman, she hazily acknowledged. A woman who at last understood the power of love and desire.

  Clutching his shoulders, she tensed as Edward slowly lowered her onto the pillows of the wide sofa. She lifted her oddly heavy lashes to watch as he hastily reached down to jerk off his boots and then wrestled with the remainder of his clothing. There was none of his usual elegance, but somehow his obvious impatience only increased the excitement that raced through her body.

  He was so…beautiful.

  A magnificent combination of hard muscles and sinew that would make any female shiver in anticipation. Even a female who possessed only the vaguest notion of what was about to occur.

  Expecting Edward to join her on the sofa, Bianca was caught off guard when he kneeled beside her, his hands gently smoothing the wrapper from her body.

  “Bianca, you need to be very sure this is what you desire,” he warned in unsteady tones. “I could not bear for you to have regrets.”

  The cool silk slithered from her heated skin, leaving her attired in nothing more than her silver locket and satin slippers. She shuddered at the flare of longing. How could he even speak of regrets? She was burning from within, and if he did not soon put her out of her misery, she was quite convinced she would commit murder.

  Reaching up, she cupped his beloved face in her hands. “Edward, this is what I want. More than anything in the world.” Her gaze narrowed. “Now can we get on with it before I expire of frustration?”

  A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he leaned forward to hover just above her waiting mouth.

  “We cannot have that, muirnin. I have plans for our future that demand you be very much alive.”

  “Then rescue me,” she pleaded.

  “With pleasure, my lady.” Skimming his mouth over her parted lips, Edward pulled back to watch as his fingers drifted down the slope of her shoulder and under the curve of her breast. His eyes darkened as she trembled in reaction. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “So perfect.”