Christmas Seduction

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Christmas Seduction Page 5

by Samantha Holt


  “Oh, Your Grace, forgive me.”

  Emma had to smother a laugh at the sight of the stern-faced butler trying to ignore the dog who was becoming increasingly persistent. Growls emanated from the filthy ball of fur. She was still vaguely annoyed with him for getting in the way of her seduction attempt so it was no less than he deserved, she decided.

  “Is there a problem, Mr Hampton?” Her serious tone cracked into a snigger.

  “No, Your Grace, just—”

  The dog’s growls increased in volume when Mr Hampton started shaking his leg again. Then the study door swung open and Alexander popped his head out. “What in the devil is that noise?” He glanced down to spot the dog and he stepped out of the study. “What is that?”

  “Nothing, Your Grace,” Mr Hampton said, his face as stern as ever.

  Emma released a bubble of laughter and Alexander glanced at her, at first surprised, then his eyes crinkled and he grinned.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing, Hampton. Would you like a hand?”

  “No, Your Grace. I can manage it.” He shook his leg again.

  This time the laughter consumed her and Emma felt tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, Alexander, do help poor Mr Hampton.”

  Laughing, Alexander bent to try to disengage the dog from the butler’s leg. After much growling and shaking, the dog released his trouser leg only to latch into Alexander’s jacket sleeve. Emma found herself almost doubled over with laughter.

  “What the devil—”

  “He has taken a liking to you, Your Grace,” Emma said, swiping her eyes. “Wherever did you find him, Mr Hampton?”

  “I had just stepped out to find Mr Thompson who was bringing in some firewood and this thing followed me in and attached himself to me.”

  Taking pity on Alexander, who was having no luck getting the dog to leave him alone, Emma persuaded him to keep his arm still while she clutched the soaking, filthy dog and rubbed behind his ears.

  “Be careful,” Alexander warned her. “Don’t let him bite you.”

  “He won’t bite me. Just keep still. You’re scaring him.”

  “Scaring him?” He looked at her incredulously. “He’s the one biting my arm.”

  “Shh... Poor love, he’s so cold and wet. He’s probably worried you’ll send him back out in the cold.”

  “And I won’t?”

  She gave him a stern look. “No, you will not.” She continued to pet the dog until he stilled and finally released Alexander’s sleeve. Alexander shook out his arm and eyed the damage to his jacket with a scowl.

  Emma bundled the wet creature against her, ignoring the stain he created on her gown and how damp her sleeves had grown while handling him. “Mr Hampton, will you send for some warm milk and see if we have some cooked ham from last night left?”

  Mr Hampton looked as though he would rather walk over hot coals, but regardless the butler turned and headed towards the kitchens.

  Carrying the dog to the drawing room, she pulled off the same blanket she had bundled Alexander up in from the chair and wrapped it around the dog before kneeling in front of the fire. “Poor creature,” she cooed to the pup.

  Alexander stood over her for a while as she rubbed the dog’s fur. Once some of the grime was gone, his white colouring became apparent and the dog’s pink tongue hung from his mouth.

  “He likes you,” Alexander said somewhat begrudgingly.

  “He’s a fine dog. Just a little mucky and cold. Poor thing.”

  Alexander came to kneel next to her and lifted the dog’s paw before checking in the creature’s mouth. The dog had become quite placid with Emma’s attentions and seemed happy to be prodded and poked. Seeing the duke’s large, tanned hand against the pup’s fur sent a well of longing through her.

  “He’s not in bad health though he’s only young. He’s going to be a beast of an animal.”

  “How do you know?”

  Alexander lifted one large paw. “Look at the size of these. He’ll grow into them.”

  “Well he’s only one dog. How much room can one dog take up? We won’t send him back out there, will we?”

  The duke’s expression softened and he rubbed a hand over the dog’s head. “No, no we won’t.”

  Mr Hampton arrived with a tray and placed it on the table with a look of disgust.

  “Mr Hampton,” Emma called before the butler could leave. “Will you have the maids bring in and fill a small tub. I should like to clean him up.”

  Alexander grinned as Mr Hampton pivoted and left the room, muttering something about filthy animals. “I am assuming you mean the dog, though we are both a little worse for wear.” He motioned to his sleeve and her gown.

  She laughed. “I have no intention of cleaning a grown man.”

  “If I roll about in mud and get myself soaked to the skin, might you change your mind?”

  Images of sleek, hard muscles, wet and soapy, flitted through her thoughts. The fire seemed too close all of a sudden and she drew back a little. His gaze skimmed her body and her nipples tightened against her bodice. Then his grin was back and the moment vanished. Emma didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

  “What shall we call this mutt then?” he said as he stood to bring over the milk and ham.

  “He’s not a mutt, are you?” She cradled the dog’s face and received a lick to her hands. “How about Snowy?”

  He made a face and placed the milk in front of the animal. The dog wasted no time in slurping up the milk and once Alexander placed down the platter of ham, the creature wolfed that down too. “Greedy more like. But Snowy? Not very original.”

  “Does it need to be original? He’s white... well, sort of white, and he came in from the snow. I think it’s just perfect.”

  “Very well, Snowy it is then.” He rubbed a hand behind the dog’s ear. “Looks like you’ve found yourself a new home, Snowy.”

  Emma sank onto her bottom and took in the scene. Snowy scrabbled his paws up Alexander’s arm and gave him a long lick across his face. Her husband chuckled and fought to keep the dog at bay. Emma’s heart warmed. To think she had been so intimidated by her husband. She really hadn’t known him well at all. Would he understand about her brother? Was there a chance for something more than an empty marriage for them? Seeing him now, with his warm smile and crinkled eyes, she realised it wasn’t just a baby she wanted from him. She wanted a proper marriage.

  She would have to tell him. It was the only way. All she had to do was summon the courage.

  The maids brought in a small tub of warm water and soap, placing it in front of the fire. Alexander shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up, apparently committed to getting the filthy animal clean. Her own sleeves would not go far up but her gown was already covered in grime and melted snow, so Emma resigned herself to getting a little wet.

  Together they coaxed the dog into the water and amidst splashing and a few barks, they scrubbed him clean, Alexander holding him down while she rubbed his fur. By the time they had finished, they were soaked, Snowy lived up to his name and the water was filthy.

  Holding out the blanket, Emma wrapped it around Snowy as the duke handed him over. She rubbed the dog as best as she could but he wriggled quickly out of her hold and shook himself off before settling on one of the chairs, his chin resting on an arm. They both laughed.

  “I guess that’s all the thanks we’re going to get for giving him a home.”

  “He does look quite right there though, does he not?”

  Alexander tilted his head to view the dog and laughed. “He does not. She does, however.”

  “She?”

  “Yes, you are the mama of a beautiful girl, it seems, Your Grace.”

  An ache formed in her chest. He could have no idea how much she longed for a little girl—or a little boy—to look after. This year had been the loneliest of her life. Her mother had remarried shortly before her own wedding and was enjoying her new life with her husband. Not that Mother had ever been one
to take much time with her daughter. The only thing she thought could end her loneliness would be a child. But now she was not so sure. Could Alexander be the key to her happiness after all?

  His grin dropped and he stared at her, his gaze seeming to reach deep inside her to pull at her heart. A wet hand came towards her and pressed into her hair that had steadily come loose from its pins. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said roughly.

  How perceptive of him. She had thought him quite in ignorance of her feelings, but perhaps there was more to the duke than a simple boyish attitude and a tendency to seem annoyed with her.

  “I’m not upset.” Her voice was but a shadow of itself as his wet palm cradled her face. It should have felt cold but instead her skin flamed at the coarse touch. Here was the hand of a man of action. Alexander was no pampered duke, no lazy, self-indulgent nobleman. As much as it frustrated her that his passion for outdoor activity had taken him from her, she could not help admire his courage and determination.

  If only he would turn some of that determination on her. But perhaps she could summon enough for both of them. Perhaps her determination to have a proper marriage would be enough.

  On their knees, they inched closer. Her clothes and hair were wet and the sleeves of his shirt were almost transparent. He had several drops of water trickling down his face so she swept some away from his brow. His hand slipped around the back of her neck. She found herself struggling to remember to breathe.

  Her lips parted and they both rose fully onto their knees. She looped her arms around his neck. It happened so agonisingly slowly, but she could only relish each moment as their bodies pressed together, hip to hip, chest to chest. Against the broad strength of him, she perhaps should have felt intimidated or fragile, but she felt strong, protected, as though his power fed into her.

  Warm, firm lips met hers. His grip on the back of her neck tightened. No thrum of apprehension ran through her, only a shimmer of excitement. Alexander parted his lips and coaxed hers apart to slide his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of coffee and she met his tongue with her own. The sensation of heat and warmth was enough to make her moan.

  The kiss didn’t last long enough, but it left her feeling hot and tingly. He did not break away entirely when it ended. He kept his hand on her neck and used the other to sweep away some damp curls from her face.

  “Emma,” he murmured.

  Her name had never sounded so sweet before. It sounded almost like an apology, or words of love or desire. She couldn’t be sure but he had certainly never said her name like that before.

  “Alexander,” she replied, hoping to convey some of what she was feeling in his name too. Emma was not sure what it was she was feeling, but it was new and exciting. She felt like a little girl on Christmas Eve, all tense with exhilaration and anticipation.

  He drew back and eyed her. “You look like the first time I saw you.”

  “At the ball? I don’t recall being wet and dirty.”

  He chuckled and fingered another errant curl. “Not but you had your hair curled like this. They touched your neck. I remember thinking I wanted to touch your neck too, or even kiss it.”

  Emma drew in a breath. “You did?” She didn’t think Alexander had thought much of her. He’d been pushed into finding a wife and she was the most eligible woman. That had been about all there was to their courtship, she believed.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Emma.”

  “You were very handsome. I was quite in awe of you.”

  Alexander’s lips tilted. “And there I was quite daunted by your beauty.”

  “By me? But... but you climb mountains and things. How could I possibly daunt you? You’re a duke!”

  “Do dukes not get nervous?”

  His thumb stroked along her neck sending tingles down her spine. He did it without thought, it seemed, and he had little idea of the effect it had on her. He was stoking a fire deep inside her belly, not only with his touch but with his words. Everything she had believed about her marriage was beginning to dissolve and be replaced with something much more appealing.

  “I did not think you did.”

  “Oh, Emma.” He rested his forehead against hers. “You have no idea. Of course you do not, you are still so innocent, are you not?” He drew back and eyed her seriously. “You are, are you not? Innocent?”

  She scowled. What did he mean? She had been a virgin on their wedding night, but they had consummated. She was still practically a virgin in her mind, but did that make her innocent? Certainly not in the normal sense, but she supposed her experience left much to be desired.

  “I... I suppose I am. I’m sorry that I’m inexperienced and that I... I displeased you.”

  His expression softened and he shook his head. “Do not ever be sorry for that. Never.” Alexander got to his feet and took her hand to draw her up with him. “I think I should be the one apologising for displeasing you.”

  “You are not displeasing.” But then she saw it in his gaze and realisation struck. He feared he had displeased her, not the other way around. “You were never displeasing.”

  True, it had not been the earth-shattering experience she might have hoped, but she had put that down to her nerves. She had been as stiff as a board and hardly knew how to react. It had been her fault, surely? But she’d always hoped they might conquer that together. Instead, he had gone to climb mountains.

  “Emma, do you think that perhaps many things can be solved by simply talking?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And that we never quite did enough of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Should we talk now?” He drew her close and tilted her chin up with his fingers.

  She shook her head. As much as she knew she would have to tell him everything, because he was right, they needed to talk and she found herself keen to know. She, who never felt she had a single useful word to say, wanted to spill out everything to Alexander. And somehow she felt he would not judge her or scold her. Unlike her mother, he had never looked at her in disgust when she had laughed or talked about something silly.

  But she didn’t want to talk now. She wanted to touch and feel. She wanted action, not talk.

  “No,” she said when he didn’t move. “Not just now.”

  He nodded with satisfaction and lowered his lips to hers.

  Chapter Nine

  Red-hot fiery need pulsed through Alex’s veins. Her lips were soft and pliant beneath his. She tasted of sweet tea. Her kiss was unpractised, honeyed, yet kindled the most unbelievable lust beneath his skin. This wasn’t the kiss of an experienced adulterer.

  When he’d been asking of her innocence, he’d been speaking of that. Did she understand what he meant? If she was truly innocent, then probably not. And he suspected he had been utterly wrong. Would a woman who would jump into the arms of another man so quickly after her nuptials bring in stray dogs? Would she apologise for her inexperience or kiss with such a sweet naivety?

  Alex pushed his fingers into her hair and felt more of the braids come loose. He explored the inside of her mouth with his tongue before drawing back to lick the corner and nibble on her lower lip. She gasped.

  Snowy barked. Startled by the dog’s sound, he drew back to see the dog had awoken and looked none too happy with him. The dog barked again and again, and Alex sighed.

  “She thinks you’re attacking me,” Emma said with a giggle.

  Alex turned to stare at her for several moments, taking in her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Snowy was not wrong. Hell, if they had continued on, he might well have taken her then and there on the floor and anyone could have walked in. Imagine the disapproving look they would have received from Hampton. He daren’t think about the icy stare the butler would bestow on them. It made him shudder.

  Then he eyed her filthy gown and wet sleeves, and stood. “Come, you need to change or you’ll catch a chill.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, taking his offered hand and standing. A little disappoin
tment shuttered her gaze but surely she did not wish him to take her here like a barbarian?

  “I certainly won’t have you ailing at Christmas.”

  “But any other time you would?” She grinned.

  Alex shook his head with a chuckle. She had a quick tongue and quite the sense of humour. He really hadn’t known his wife at all.

  Leading her upstairs, he shoved open the door and released her hand to begin pouring the bath. He turned, rested against the porcelain, his arms folded, and found her grinning at him wickedly. Now thoughts of her innocence seemed foolish, but he could not deny liking having that gleam in her eye directed at him. She pushed the door shut and closed the gap.

  He reached for her and rested his hands on her hips, his head against her breasts. His heart pounded and his arousal ached. His intention had been for her to wash and change, then he would worry about himself, but she had other ideas. Should he not let her get clean and take her to bed later? Was that not the proper thing to do?

  However, none of his imaginings were the remotest bit proper. He pictured her skin wet and glossy, and covered in soap. Then he thought of her straddling his legs in the bathtub. He’d heard enough bawdy talk at the Alpine Club to picture it without ever having done it himself. Their lovemaking had been confined to the bed, with him on top.

  But the ideas he had were far removed from everything they had done before. He only hoped he could truly please her this time.

  Emma dropped to her knees and looked up at him, her hands pressed to his thighs. The water sloshed against the porcelain tub and nearly drowned out her tiny plea to him, “Kiss me, please.”

  Alex took her face and smoothed a thumb along her jaw and down her neck. Her pulse fluttered and he saw her throat work, but there was no fear or apprehension. She seemed to be experiencing the very same powerful desire he was.

  Dropping his mouth to hers, he kissed her until she was breathless and trembling in his arms. Then he drew her to her feet and set to work on the buttons of her dress. Emma’s hair was wild and tumbling about her shoulders, her lips full and glossy. She gazed at him with utter trust, and it squeezed his heart. It had all been a mistake, it had to have been. So who was that man and why had she been embracing him? Alex cursed his impulsive nature. Why had he not simply confronted her and discovered the truth rather than running away like a silly schoolboy?

 

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