by Gayle Eden
Palms touching, arms brushing, for the first time in her life, Alex feared she might faint. The tension and blood rush, the attention focused on them, when their hands touched, and the exquisite torture of knowing Edmund felt it too…was too much.
Someone to her left miss-stepped. Alex was jostled back against Edmund. His palms landed at her sides. Her back felt the jarring thud of his heart for a split second, before all was righted.
* * * *
While that dance ended, Edmund stepped back whilst eager partners swarmed Alex. Some distance away, but able to see over heads, he could discern her flushed face, the hard breaths she took—and the daze in which she nodded, before being led out on the floor.
His teeth set, heart beating too hard against his ribs—as it had been since he collected her in the townhouse. He identified some of the men as those with wagers at the club. Yet many were genuinely taken with her—and why not? She looked beautiful in that ivory gown, lovely, with those long spirals of curls floating around her face.
Her lithe frame and warm cream skin along with the rest of the vision held many eyes while she glided through the steps. Edmund had a flash of her in that parlor—a perfect picture in his mind of her shapely legs, slightly flared hips and tight waist. He remembered the supple soft breasts, the nipples peaked, a dazed, hot, glitter in her eyes. He remembered the taste and scent of her sex, soft curls that brushed his lips at that first tentative touch of the tip of his tongue to her swollen and glistening clit.
Sensitive to the tightness in his body, feeling a simmering heat in his blood, he made his way to her between dances, and murmured, “I’m to the card room.” before he took himself outside first.
His loins rigid enough to be noticed, he stood a bit in the shadows. Hands unsteady, he lit a cheroot, too inside his own head and body to do more than nod to those who spoke to him, Edmund felt his skin shrink on his frame, sinew and muscle drawing firm with hungers he had thought he could control.
In the end, he was too long calming his body and reigning in his thoughts, to even make a presence at cards. He walked instead, summoning up other thoughts to distance his mind. Eventually Edmund returned inside, mentally groaning as Lady Melanie Billington immediately detained him. A handsome woman he had escorted on an off for several years—someone he could not ignore.
“How are you, Mel?”
“Wonderful.” She smiled and put her hand on his arm. Gowned in rich blue velvet, her blond hair sleeked back and sapphire eyes glowing, she murmured, “Although I could be put out, since this is normally the ball you and I attend together.”
“I’m sure you have no lack of potential escorts.” His smile was stiff, his eyes trying to find Alex.
“True. But none as handsome, nor as interesting, as you, Edmund.”
“Hum.” He made that sound distracted until he found Alex. She was standing on the sidelines sipping a glass of punch; talking to a woman, he had seen at her father’s house.
Relaxing a bit, he glanced at Melanie. “How are your parents, siblings?”
“Fine. Edmund.” She arched her brow with smile. “You just saw them two days past, at tea.”
“So I did.”
“It is terribly stuffy in here. Walk me out, will you?”
He wanted to decline. In fact, glancing over he saw Alex watching them, and observed her stiffening. Neither were to make anything of this impulsive invite of his, and a gentlemen must limit their dances with the same female—it wouldn’t do to be hanging on her skirts—Edmund felt like walking over there and dragging her out into the gardens.
What he did was offer his arm and strolled out with Melanie. They had shared a few kisses. She was hinting for more, standing too close, touching him too often—but Edmund felt nothing save an overwhelming urge to tell her to go away.
Her perfume did not smell as alluring as Alex’s. Her voice did not hold that same husk, and her eyes were not holding that hunger that clawed at him at the moment.
“Edmund—Edmund.”
“Your pardon, Mel.” He blinked and nodded to something she said.
“Really, my lord. I have never seen you so distracted.”
His eyes watched her lips say that. He wanted to be looking at a pair of glistening and parted ones that haunted his dreams. “I do beg your pardon. I have work on my mind, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, dear. Well, ‘tis better than what some of the gossips have made of your generosity in bringing Lady Alexandria here tonight.”
“Generosity?” His gaze locked on her eyes.
“Why, yes.” She smiled coyly. “You are a friend of the Marquis, all very acceptable, mind. But his bastards are a —”
“Excuse me.” Edmund removed her hand from his arm and felt his face tighten, his eyes chilled. He stepped around and left her standing, hearing several couples standing about also witnessed her gasp of outrage.
Inside the crush again, he did not falter from his aim in finding Alex. He took her arm as soon as her partner bowed and found a spot for them by an alcove.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Are you?” Her glance was a bit sharp as she pat her face with a lace hanky.
Likely still wearing the expression meant for Mel, Edmund considered that keeping it intact would likely save him from doing what he’d like to do to her right there in a ballroom.
“I rarely enjoy balls.”
Alex tucked the hanky in the wrist of her glove and muttered, “I don’t know why you asked me here.”
“Auvary is a friend of mine. He asked me to look after you.”
Her lips parted, eyes turning a bit cold. “Did he?” That proud little nose was turning up.
“No.” Edmund husked and stepped close, all but glaring down at her face. “The garden, or the coach, Alex. Which will it be?”
“What,” she whispered blinking.
His teeth grit, the heat from dancing warming her perfume and skin so that he could almost taste it, Edmund husked, “Can I touch you? Will you touch me?”
A pulse pounded at her throat, her face turned up, wide hungry eyes on his, Edmund watched her swallow and saw her tremble a little.
It was enough.
He slid his hand down her arm before tucking her hand on his own, and then they were making their way through the crowds. He walked rather blind to collect their wraps, and hurry on to the coach.
* * * *
Alex did not hear what he said to the coachman. As soon as they were away from the curb, she let the cloak fall from her heated skin and watched Edmund remove both jacket and cravat before he joined her.
Half turned toward her, his eyes glowed with jasper fire while he cupped the underside of her jaw. Tilting her head back, his own slanting down, Alex felt fire under his touch, fire that sparked in her blood, before he lowered his head and kissed her.
One touch before her lips parted. His tongue entered her mouth. Her own laved over and under it, stealing hungers from him. Moaning, her hands went to his sinewy neck, and then her fingers delved up into that cool silken hair, whilst he slanted and deepened the kiss, quickening blood, bone, and skin.
His breathing dark and low, her own tight and sultry, the kiss moved to the stroke of tongues over lips, the catch of his lower one between her teeth—and suckling. His suckling her tongue was bringing awareness that creamy silken moisture bathed her sex. Under the bodice of the gown, her nipples ached with hardness.
Her sexually excited pants of air filled the confines of the coach. Alex allowed him to grasp her hair lightly, arching her neck more whilst his mouth scored over her cheek and ear, down, to suckle across her throat. She felt herself nudged backwards. His free hand eased down the sleeve of her gown. Alex was lying back on the seat while he blazed a trail of open-mouthed fire, tasting his way down her throat, to latch onto her breast.
Hands tangled in his mane, she groaned, “Edmund…” and arched her spine, helping him when he slid his other hand, moved her sleeve down, then holding her breasts in his palms like ripe oran
ges and nibbling, licking, delicately biting, and teasing the nipples.
In some indistinct, vaporous whisper, she whimpered, “Yes. Yes.”
Her body moved, arched, her hands guiding his head tighter to her.
She shivered from the rush of lust. He stretched up again and captured her mouth. The kiss was raw and scorching, his body emitting heat and scent that stirred her in some primal way. Popping the first button of his shirt, she fumbled to reach his muscled skin. Her efforts were rewarded finally with contact of palms over mounds of chest muscle.
Thumbs grazing his hard nipples, Alex wanted to unleash, she wanted to devour him.
Edmund lifted, breathing harsh and meeting her feverish eyes with his own. He undid the vest and flung it across to his coat. In the murk of the coach, his white shirt gleamed against honey skin, the scent of him mingling with her own body heat. He pulled the tails from his trousers.
Caught up in the cocoon of intimate hungers, Alex was not aware they were stopped somewhere. She sat up and bit at Edmund’s neck before letting her tongue trace across his collarbone. Her hands touched him, feeling mounds and hot skin, the quivering ripples over his lower stomach.
“Alex,” he breathed out heavily and leaned back against the seat, hair-mussed legs parted and shirt falling back from that taut torso. He reached for her, and pulled her on his lap.
She yanked the skirts high enough to accommodate the position and with the bodice fallen, the band under her breast was all that held the gown on. Alex leaned, grasped his shoulders, stretching to feed him her nipples, breathing dicey as he cupped the mounds and suckled hard enough to make her cry out.
His hips hard under her, undulating upwards, she pulled back and cupped his head, kissing him wildly, trembling all over from his deep throaty sounds, the slight tremble in his legs. His hands on her firm ass began to rub her against his hot, elongated sex, contained by the snug material.
Alex skimmed her lips to his ear, panting faint under his own dark breaths, “It’s been so long since I felt you, felt this. Edmund…Edmund, you make me burn.”
He groaned and cupped her head, his eyes glittering before sliding her back and delving his hand under her skirts.
She covered it, feeling his fingers touch her damp sex, seconds before a pounding on the coach door penetrated the fog.
“Christ. Bloody hell.” Edmund gulped as she jumped off him and yanked up her gown.
Fixing her clothing with trembling fingers, Alex felt keenly for Edmund, whose thighs were shaking even as the pounding went on. He was endeavoring to smooth his hair, and half button his shirt.
She turned and pulled up the shade, seeing Jo’s face.
Alex leaned and opened the door. “My God—Jo!”
Her sister crawled in, half-falling over Edmund’s legs with a sob. “I’m such an idiot. Such a bloody idiot.”
“Jo. What in God’s name…” Alex slid to the edge of the seat. Jo’s hair tumbled down. She did not have shoes on. Her gown was torn. “What happened?”
Shaking, Jo let Alex move to the seat and take her in a hug. However, she kept rasping, “I’m an utter fool.”
Alex captured several of the pens from Jo’s tumbling hair and glanced out to see they were near the park. Worried, scared, she looked to Edmund.
“Is there someplace—?”
“Yes.” He was putting on his jacket and stepped out to speak to the driver. Back inside, he tossed his handkerchief to Alex and she eased back to examine Jo’s torn sleeve. There was a scrape there and another on her palms. Alex did not know what to make of it. No stockings, no gloves. Jo’s dress was a beautiful jade silk and lace and torn in several places.
Murmuring nonsense as she wiped the seeping blood away, Alex let Jo settle back. Her sister’s eyes were closed, her white teeth chewing her lips, in an effort to hold back sobs.
Alex was so focused on her, that she forgot Edmund, but he had leaned forward and touched Jo’s hand. “I must ask you, Jo. Were you raped?”
“No. No.” Jo’s head rolled on the seat. “Almost… oh—God. I am so bloody stupid.”
“Don’t worry about anything. It will be all right.” Alex sighed in relief and shared a glance with Edmund who also looked relived.
When the coach stopped, Edmund put his cape around Jo. Once they were out, Alex recognized the rear entry of the duchess’s house. Her arm around Jo, she followed as Edmund led them into a hall and past a suite of offices. They passed through the sitting room that held so many memories for Alex. It was re-decorated, but she would know it anywhere so often had she revisited that night.
The chambers he stopped at were a combined bedroom and larger sitting room. The masculine hues of green and wine hinting they were ones he used.
Alex seated Jo in a chair by the fire.
“I’ll be right back,” Edmund told them and slipped out again.
Her cape off again, and her hair having long since come undone, Alex shoved it back off her shoulders, and went to her knees, taking Jo’s hands. “What happened, Jo?”
Body lax and head back against the chair, Jo was staring at the fireplace, its light glinting on her deep red hair, but also showing the starkness of her face, the tight skin and lips.
“If father asks, I was at the ball with you.”
“Of course.”
Jo rolled her head, her jade eyes meeting Alex’s. “I went to find that lover—”
“Oh, Jo.”
Johanna blinked. “Not my intent when I left the house, but he was a complete bastard to me, Alex. He’s a bloody…”
Alex did not ask who he was.
The door opened. She came to her feet, meeting the eyes of the duchess, dressed in a sheer sleeved black gown; her hair weaved with ropes of thin silver. She wore silver pumps, and the subtle cosmetics made her look even more striking. It was obvious she had been entertaining.
“I’m sorry—”Alex began.
“Nonsense.” The Lady shook her head and went to Jo.
Edmund entered and then stood aside as servants brought in coffee and then left.
Lady Sommerton helped Jo to her feet. “Now, then. Let us get you repaired. The servants will fix that gown right up. A nice bath, and something for those scratches.” She put her arm around Jo and glanced at Alex. “A bath, some rest, and she will be fine. By the time the gown is cleaned and repaired—I’ll find the rest for her, you can take her home at dawn with you and say she was at the ball.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Alex nodded.
“It’s no trouble, Alex. Don’t worry yourself.” She glanced at Edmund as she escorted Jo out. “I’ll have some food sent in an hour or so. Please make Alex comfortable, Edmund. My guests will be leaving in a few hours. We’ll get this one rested in my rooms.”
When the door closed behind them, Alex sat down heavily in the chair, distracted when she took the cup of coffee from Edmund.
In his shirtsleeves, he paced by the windows, drinking his own coffee. Once her nerves settled, Alex heard the faint tic of the clock, the voices muffled in another part of the house, and traffic faintly.
Looking into the fire, she lost herself in thoughts, relieved that Jo had not been harmed—knowing that though they could all defend themselves, it was still a dangerous city, and peer or not, a lone female could find herself in peril.
Alex drifted mentally long enough to be startled when Edmund slid a table over and began to set out food. She had not heard the servants enter. There were meats and fruit, tarts, cheese, and such on a tray, with wafers.
He pulled the matching chair up close so the table was between them, and urged, “Eat something. We’ll be here until dawn.”
Alex nodded and eyed his face, his finger combed hair, wondering that moments ago they were like two wild flames burning each other.
Least she think he had forgotten, when he met her gaze whilst holding a bit of orange for her to bite—there was a banked fire in his cat eyes that still glittered as she took it in her teeth and chewed.
>
After that first bite, he sat back and ate too, sometimes staring at the fire, sometimes glancing at her, while she ate and sipped the coffee.
When they no longer reached for the food, he arose, put it on a wheeled cart with the coffee, and left it out in the hall. Standing at the back of the chair, he looked over her and murmured, “I’ll find you something to wear.”
“I don’t nee—” She looked down to see soil from Jo’s gown on her ivory silk, and sighed. “Yes, thank you. Is there somewhere I can wash up?” When she stood, he waved her into the bedroom. A small door off it led to a water closet, and dressing room.
“Toss it out and I will have the servants do repairs.”
She stripped out the gown, frowning in a mirror at her tangled hair, and then hiding behind the door as she shoved the gown and gloves into his waiting hands.
Alex stepped out of the pumps and stood in her stockings, finding a comb to do her hair. Her pins she set aside, hoping she could do some fancy style in the morning, or ask for a maid’s help.
She washed her body, too aware of its sensitivity and even by the lamplight feeling a sexual rush at her tightened nipples. The garters at the top of her thigh-length stockings were white with pearl beads. Jo had picked them out. She had not really thought they were sexual until that moment.
Laying the damp cloth aside, she brushed her hand over her pubic curls, remembering the erotic sight of Edmund’s head between her legs. Feeling a sting like burn in the place, he had flicked and rubbed.
“Oh, God. I’m in such bloody trouble.” She blew out a breath and grasped the edge of the basin, holding her own gaze in the mirror until she heard his tread.
Alex jerked her head towards the door as it opened her throat closing when Edmund softly stepped inside and leaned against the door. There was a thin robe in his hand, but he did not offer it. His face rigid, eyes devouring her body, he finally met her own questioning gaze.
“Dare I even ask?” That husk floated in the small chamber.
Releasing a shaky breath, Alex pushed away and padded toward him. She took the robe and slid it on. Her body brushed against his as she reached for the latch.