The Only One

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The Only One Page 9

by Samanthya Wyatt


  She tossed that mane of glorious hair over her shoulder, took a step forward, and stumbled in a hole. Shock slashed her face, but she quickly recovered. She thrust out her chest, put a hand on her hip, and gave him what she must have thought was a come-hither look.

  Giles couldn’t help it. He opened his mouth and laughter burst out.

  Her heated gaze quickly changed from allure to anger. God, the woman was beautiful with her stubbornness. A heightened sense of awareness strummed along his nerve endings. When had he started thinking of the blasted girl as a woman?

  Her eyes went all warm and glazed over. The lush petals of her mouth opened slightly and the tip of her tongue teased their fullness. The termagant wanted him to kiss her. And blast it all, he wanted to do just that.

  Hell and damnation.

  The chit thought she knew what she was doing. She had no idea she played with fire. And even if he burned, he refused to take a virgin barely out of the schoolroom. Grabbing Gent’s reins, he took a few paces forward.

  “We could sit for a while,” she offered.

  “I prefer walking. Besides, you don’t want Blackie to run off again.”

  “Blackie . . . I really hate his name.”

  “Why haven’t you changed it?”

  “Well, I want to.” She quickened her pace to keep up with him.

  He seized the subject as one to keep the chit’s mind off an inept seduction. “Have you thought of any names?”

  “None I’m satisfied with. Horace thinks I should call him Black Devil.”

  Giles stopped, then glanced over his shoulder at the black. “Is there a reason behind his suggestion?”

  “Blackie wasn’t very friendly when he first arrived at his new home.” Alex patted the horse’s mane. “But he took right off to me. He’s adjusted well. He’s the most splendid horse I’ve ever seen. He deserves a better name, just as beautiful and as proud as he.”

  “What do you like?” Giles turned and started walking again.

  “Well, I think he is magical,” Alex said as she kept in step with him. “He’s special. I just can’t decide.”

  “All right. Let’s see. To get in the spirit of things, Demon runs along the line of Devil.” He made a motion with his hand. “I consider Angel to be too mild for this spirited creature.”

  “All right.”

  “Hmmm. Magical . . . Witch and Warlock sounds more like Demon. When I think of magic, I think of fairy dust.”

  Alex came to a halt. Her eyes blazed with determination. “I’m not calling him Fairy.”

  Giles burst out in laughter. “I should think not.”

  “I thought along the line of something dark, like the night.” She fell back into step. “I could call him Dark Night. It’s still not right. Too . . . ordinary.”

  “There are stars in the night sky. Maybe Night Star.”

  “Too familiar. Someone else could pick the same name. You mentioned fairy dust.”

  He stopped in shock. “You are not going to call such a manly beast Fairy Dust.”

  “Heavens, no!” She laughed. “But something intrigues me along that vein.”

  “How about Stardust? You’ve got the stars in the night sky along with a little fairy dust.” He smiled, pleased with his idea.

  “That’s it! Stardust! I love it.” She jumped with joy, making the stallion rear in surprise. She soothed the black, calling him by his new name. “Stardust. Stardust you shall be.” She stroked his mane, smiling in delight. “Stardust. I think he likes it.”

  His gaze followed Alex’s hands, as they stroked down the stallion’s neck. Soft gentle hands, yet strong enough to handle the black with expertise. His breathing grew labored as he stared at her fondling caress.

  Fondling?

  Abruptly he realized where his thoughts had gone. He’d become envious of the damned horse.

  The dinner hour came and went without Giles in attendance. After his eye-opener this afternoon, the best course for him lay in any direction other than Alex Carmichael. He leaned a hip on the stone wall of the veranda sweeping from one end of the massive wing across the full length of Carmichael’s house. Giles lifted a cheroot and bit the end. With a flick of his wrist, he scraped the match stick against the stone. Flame flashed on the end. Torching the tobacco, he drew deeply, watching the cigar fire a luminous red glow.

  A thousand stars sparkled like diamonds in a blanket of black velvet. The night was cool even without a breeze. He took a deep breath, hoping the quiet night would calm some of the restless energy bouncing about on the inside. Floral fragrance wafted to him from the baskets of flowers hanging over the balustrade. A night for seduction, if one had such a notion.

  Alex’s image popped into his mind. He recalled how she’d stroked Stardust, and he imagined those hands stroking him in the same fashion. Her long, delicate fingers slipping down the side of his neck, curling in his chest hair, gliding over his ribs and down farther between his legs.

  He’d never had trouble controlling his lust. Why he was having these lascivious thoughts about a girl half his age, he couldn’t fathom. It was maddening. Besides, she had three vigilant brothers who would stop this line of thinking for him. He didn’t want or need the inconvenience.

  Being a self-possessed man, he remained calm in critical situations. With patience and a clear head, he’d made life-threatening decisions without a moment’s hesitation. Anger, frustration; he’d learned to control every emotion. Patience and disguising his feelings had not only led him to succeed in achieving his goals, but had saved the lives of many.

  Which was why this unexplained loss of control had him bewildered. He had no constraint over his thoughts, and very little over his manhood when he was in close proximity to a certain beleaguering young woman. He couldn’t get Alex’s kiss out of his mind. From the moment his mouth feasted on hers, he’d wanted to kiss her again. She’d been as eager as he. A mating dance full of fire and passion. She’d said she’d been taught. His eyes narrowed. Who did the teaching?

  A tug pulled at his gut. He dare not acknowledge the inquiry, for it smacked too closely toward jealously. Why did he lose all sense of restraint when he was near her? Yet somehow, simply looking at her robbed him of caution.

  Lifting the cheroot, he inhaled, watching the fiery red glow on the end, allowing the smoke to burn his lungs. What a pity he couldn’t whisk her away and teach her how to use her skillful tongue on other areas. His groin tightened.

  God’s blood. The chit remained in his mind like a cancer.

  He closed his eyes to shove away his licentious thoughts. Darkness only brought her image clearer.

  A slight breeze stirred along his cheek. His instincts told him he was not alone. He opened his heavy lids.

  Time suspended in the moonlight. The image of his dream emerged before him, like an angel. He stood there, drinking in her beauty. In a cloud of gauzy lace, the moon’s glow revealed a surprising amount of curves for one so young.

  A golden halo of hair fell in loose waves about her shoulders. One wild strand curved around a plump breast. Was it his imagination or could he see the darkened tip? His tongue felt too big for his throat. His hands prickled at the thought of tangling in her thick tresses, tugging her to him, holding her captive while he plundered her mouth.

  Inch by inch, he lowered his gaze, absorbing every detail, down to a tiny waist his large hands would easily span with his fingers overlapping. Nicely rounded hips . . .

  Air hissed between his teeth. Unable to tear his gaze away, he stared at the center of her enticing curves. Her nest of curls lay barely hidden from his view.

  His mouth went dry. His palms itched, daring to touch.

  His gaze snapped back to find her striking eyes drinking him in as well, and an alluring smile on her full, pink lips that made h
is head spin.

  So soft, so sweet, so tempting . . . her very scent stirred him. While his subconscious fired barbs of warning, his body whispered an irresistible ‘yes.’

  A demon housed his soul, testing his strength. All he could think of was how she would taste. When the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, a jolt of lust hit his groin. He uttered a low groan.

  A man would have to be made of stone not to react to her beauty. While his conscience and his honor battled, the angelic vision drifted closer. He tossed the cheroot over the rail. Surely madness drew him forward.

  She leaned into him. His hands automatically rose to her shoulders, clasping the flimsy material covering her upper arms. Her eyes yearned, pure and real. And trusting. His blood pooled low in his belly. His gaze latched onto her mouth . . .

  Her lips puckered as his fingers grazed her cheek, traced the column of her neck.

  She stood on her tiptoes with a smile luring him to his doom, while her hands slid around his neck. Twining her fingers in his hair, she tugged him closer. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth.

  His tongue eased out and slid over his bottom lip. She felt soft and fragile in his arms. Giles tightened his hold. Surely he’d lost his mind. At this moment, he would gladly drown in insanity.

  “Alex,” he moaned.

  Moonlight streamed across broad shoulders. Naked broad shoulders. Alex caught her breath. For some time, she’d watched Giles’ silhouetted profile, wondering how to approach him. She’d unwrapped the gown from her trousseau in hopes he would not reject her again. By the look in his eyes, she’d done the right thing.

  A dark dusting of curls scattered over his chest and down to a lean, narrow waist. Muscles covered his torso and arms. The sight of him standing almost nude, bathed in the moon’s glow, would be forever singed in her mind. This delectable man she’d scrutinized so carefully, far exceeded her illusions.

  She’d dreamed of his kiss. She wanted him to kiss her again. And then because she simply could not help herself, she leaned into him. She studied his face—a long way up despite her own height. He edged closer and she could do nothing but stare at his lips. His smile was slow and filled with sensuous promise.

  Sliding her arms around his neck, her fingers twined in the hair at his nape.

  He secured one arm around her back. His lips came down with the silken touch of a butterfly’s wings. Bending her backward, he fastened his mouth over hers. At long last, she had her duke. He kissed her willingly. When his tongue teased her lips, she opened to him. He deepened the kiss boldly, thrusting his tongue inside. Sensations like nothing she’d ever known swamped her. She floated. She burned. Time and space disappeared. The only thing that existed was him. Her. And the delicious awareness swamping her body.

  Their tongues meshed while her heart pumped furiously. Unable to take a breath, her head spun in a whirlwind of emotions. When he broke the kiss, she clutched him tighter for fear of falling. The hand at her waist drew her closer, the warmth of his breath fanning over her cheek.

  “You occupy my thoughts. You taunt my every waking moment.” His lips brushed her temple. “At night I cannot sleep for you haunt my dreams.”

  Her heart filled with joy.

  “Your tempting mouth.” He eased away, enough to see her face. “Your daring eyes.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “Your sweet-smelling flesh.”

  His voice was rich and more seductive than the moonlight. If heaven existed on earth, it was right here in Giles’ embrace.

  Arms of steel with gentle hands and mesmerizing fingers. She melted into his touch. His mouth sprinkled riveting kisses on her eyes, her cheeks, down the side of her neck. She gripped his shoulders and angled her head, relishing the delightful tingles. When he licked the flesh across her collarbone, her breasts grew heavy and her knees weakened. She swayed. His mouth captured one tight peak through her night-rail, hot and wet. Her body jolted at the raw stimulation. Quivers shot to her core. His arm, encircling her waist, held her up for her legs no longer had substance.

  She moaned her pleasure. She’d never felt anything so blissfully sinful. Knowing Giles was the one who caressed her and created this agonizing need made her heart soar to tormenting heights. She loved him. She was in his arms. She’d never imagined love could be so wonderful. Or so delicious.

  He took her lips once more, his tongue plundering within. His kiss swept her away with passionate abandon. All she wanted was him. Desperately she clung to him till she could no longer breathe. With a groan he tore his mouth from hers. His chest heaving, he pulled her against his pounding heart. Hers too, thumped a dashing rhythm. He cradled her, his hand pressing her head under his chin, while pliable fingers massaged her scalp.

  Moments stretched into timelessness. Precious seconds of paradise she’d grasped only in her dreams.

  “What have you done to me?” he whispered.

  With a husky laugh, she stretched, cuddling closer, knowing he expected no answer. His hand stroked her back.

  All too soon he stopped.

  “You must go back inside.” He grasped her fingers and brushed his lips over her knuckles. Placing her hand on his arm, he gently urged her forward. When they reached her bedroom door, he gave her a light kiss on her temple. Without words, he held her gaze as she stepped inside. Reluctant to let her go, he squeezed her hand gently just before he allowed her fingers to slide through his, and softly closed the door.

  She wrapped her arms about her waist and smiled.

  The duke was hers.

  Chapter 14

  What the bloody hell was he thinking? At some point—soon—he needed to get his mind out of his trousers and back into the head upon his shoulders.

  Did Alex look different today? Or had his perception changed after their clandestine meeting on the veranda? He’d agreed to this outing readily enough. Hell, his reaction to the chit alarmed him.

  “Just drop the reins, they won’t leave us.”

  “I’m not so sure about this one,” Giles muttered. Although Gent obeyed every command—so far—Giles didn’t want his horse to wander away. He had followed Alex to a clearing just beyond where he’d first seen her—when he thought she needed rescuing. Dismounting, he dropped the reins as Alex suggested, then stepped to her mount. Reaching up, he gently grasped her beneath her arms.

  She gave him a teasing smile.

  A groan escaped him. He’d succumbed to her coquettishness, the same as last night.

  She bent, placing her hands on his shoulders. He lifted her with ease. As she slid to the ground, her breasts brushed him, causing an expedient reaction. One only had to glance down to distinguish what lodged in his mind.

  Instead of moving back, she looked him in the eye and grinned, naughty and full of guile. Evidently their interlude on the balcony only encouraged her.

  What did you expect?

  Torture, pure torture. This prolonging the inevitable was playing havoc with his wits. Her beauty beckoned him, that pert nose, her bow-shaped lips. Golden lashes, nearly invisible, swept her tanned cheeks. A dainty piece of femininity with a woman’s curiosity.

  Giles remembered her response last evening. When he pressed a kiss to the side of her throat, she’d arched her neck and welcomed him. His mind still rang with the sound of her purrs. His gaze dropped to the creamy expanse of her delicate throat. Soft skin drew him like a bee would seek the nectar of a delicate flower. He hovered, licking his lips in anticipation.

  He damned near leaned in to have a taste of her, before he caught himself.

  Giles shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. When had his cool nature deserted him? Why in bloody hell did his discipline over his own body disappear in the urchin’s presence?

  Because she used the wiles of a woman.

  God’s teeth. He was not
a youth in short pants. Was he low enough to blame a child for his lunacy?

  “Where are you?” Her voice drew him from the insanity of his thoughts.

  He scowled.

  She propped her hands on her rounded hips. “Don’t tell me I have to revisit ground I’ve already covered.”

  “I beg your pardon?” His brow arched.

  “I suppose I mistakenly had the wrong impression that after last night, I would not have to chase you again.”

  His lips thinned as his gaze locked on hers and he stilled, as stolid as the massive oaks around them. “You’re not going to let this rest, are you?”

  “Not likely.” She smiled with the confidence of a woman who’d hooked her man.

  Good God.

  “You know you’re spoiled, don’t you? Just because your father has handed you everything you’ve ever wanted from the day you were born, don’t think you can lead every man you meet by the crook of your little finger.” He held up his smallest digit in mock demonstration.

  “I’m only interested in one.” She stepped closer, and laid a hand on his chest. The contact struck deep and sudden, firing his blood. He backed her one step at a time until he pinned her against a tall oak. One arm braced on the bark, he crowded her, sandwiching her between him and the tree. Though he knew his face wore a scowl, what started as irritation, quickly grew to magnetism. And awareness.

  Her breathing grew ragged and her eyes glazed over. When her fingers tugged at the front of his shirt, he couldn’t resist.

  Her tenderly-curved bosom, soft and warm, molded to his chest. Her hand crept up and curved to the back of his neck. Her eyes held a mystical power that drew him in. He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle coaxing, then sucked at her bottom lip. She tightened her hold, opening her mouth.

  Sweet bliss engulfed him. His tongue, firm and daring, slipped in to tease. She attacked with gusto, the kiss now a maelstrom of parry and thrust. When breathing became a problem, he drew back for air, eliciting a whimper of loss from her throat.

 

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