A Kiss to Remember

by Rebecca Minto

  His mouth was hot, trailing down her throat. He laved at the tender skin, relishing in the taste of her there. He nibbled his way into the valley between her breasts, moving steadily towards his goal. When he finally closed his lips around her nipple, he groaned with delight.

  She gasped with pleasure.

  He circled her nipple, again and again with his tongue, laving, delicately nibbling at her until she was writhing wildly beneath him. Only then did he suckle her deeply, tugging insistently at the proud peak. His hands were everywhere, tugging her skirts upward until he could slide his hand up over silk-encased legs, plumping the other breast, moving around to squeeze her rounded buttocks.

  When he released the peak and slid his hot mouth to the other breast, Daphne cried out, bucking. In response to her eager reactions, he boldly rubbed himself against the heat of her. Daphne whimpered, grasping his hair and tugging him back up to her mouth.

  She was a tigress, he thought, her tongue seeking and finding his, stroking wildly. She sucked his tongue, scraped her nails down his neck.

  It was only when James pulled away, reaching for the button of his trousers, that he found some sense. It was difficult, staring down at her moist, swollen lips, at the twin peaks proudly standing at attention. At the beautiful woman with dark eyes clouded with desire. He took one ragged breath, then another and another, forcing himself to think.

  “No, Daphne.”

  She blinked at him, blissfully unaware at just how close she had come to losing her virtue. “J-James?”

  “I can’t do this, not like this.”

  Her eyes cleared, giving him a view of rage and hurt. He had expected the anger. Indeed, she was fully justified with ire. But the hurt was what got to him. Unable to resist, he leaned down to kiss her lips again, a soft caress that bespoke of tenderness and apology.

  She smacked at his shoulders, even as tears fell. “Get off me, if you don’t want me, then,” she snapped. “Just…leave…me!”

  “I will never abandon you, Daphne,” James told her quietly.

  “You bastard!” she whispered.

  “Aye, I am that,” he agreed affably. God, she had no idea how truly callous he was.

  James stood up, and grasped her wrists, forcing her to do the same. She stumbled against him. He could not help but run his fingers through her hair once more. She shoved at him.

  She was a virago, standing on trembling legs, eyes sparkling with unshed tears and fury, full, swollen breasts unbound and like ivory towers waiting to be plundered.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  She began to cry. “Will you stop it?”

  “No. Daphne, you are beautiful. But this can’t happen again.”

  “And you’re sorry it ever did happen and will I please go away so you won’t have to stare at the disgusting, pitiful—”

  His hand covered her lips, refusing to allow her to belittle herself more. “Don’t say such things. Baby, please.”

  Unable to resist, he kissed her cheek, her temple, her nose.

  Sighing, he allowed his hands to drift down to her breasts. He stroked his palms over those wonderfully soft mounds once more before struggling to cover her again. It was no easy task, trying to force swollen, aroused breasts into silk, especially when he was loathe to hide something so beautiful. In the end, he managed it, but barely.

  “We need to talk. Last time, I don’t think you understood.”

  She peered up at him through tears. “I don’t understand now,” she sobbed.

  James yanked her into his arms, holding her while she wept. She needed this, he thought. He stroked her shoulders, kissing her temples, while she quaked, soaking his shirt with salty tears. When she began to ease off, he pulled her back, staring down at her beautiful face.

  “Daphne, if you had any idea how much I want you,” he began, only to be interrupted.

  “You never wanted me.”

  Sometimes, he thought darkly, actions spoke louder than words. Deciding this was one of those rare times, James grasped her hand and brought it between his legs, forcing her to feel how he throbbed. To his surprise, the little wanton curled her fingers over the silk-clad breeches and stroked instinctively. He groaned.

  “Stop that,” he hissed, jerking her hand away.

  “See, you don’t want me,” she insisted.

  “Baby, if you had any of your wits, you would realize just how close I am to throwing my honor out the window and shoving your skirts over your head and having my merry way with you,” he told her gruffly.

  She flushed at his base speech and turned away.

  James cursed himself for his lack of control where she was concerned. He was infamous for his control, but with one look, this little slip of a girl could strip it all away and leave a ravaging beast in its place. It was demoralizing.

  “Daphne, I do want you,” he admitted quietly. “I want you in my bed. I want you naked. I want to kiss every delectable inch of your body. I want to be atop you, behind you, in you. I want to kiss you until you can only dream sweet dreams of me. And when you wake up, I want my way with you again.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading. “If I had no honor, I would do all of that and more. I would use you until you were broken, and replete, and then I would use you again and again. I would take you until you could not walk.”

  She quivered, whirling and he was shocked to see there was passion in her eyes once more. “Stop it, James. You make me burn.”

  Was there anything better for a man to hear, he thought, than that he made his woman wild? Before he could continue with that train of thought and continue where he left off, he shook his head.

  “I know I made you burn,” he said, intentionally using the past tense. “You make me crazed, Daphne. If you were anyone else, I would do everything I wanted to you and more.”

  “So, it is because you dislike me?” she gasped, shocked at how much he could hurt her.

  “Stop thinking that way!” he snarled. “Damn it, woman, you drive me to distraction! No, Daphne, it has nothing to do with the fact that you are a beautiful, passionate woman.”

  She blinked at him. He truly thought her beautiful?

  Unconsciously, he began to stroke his hands up and down her arms as he thought about how to make her understand.

  “One day, you will meet a man who makes you wild. If he is any good, he will make you burn. I trust you will marry that man and live as happily as fate will allow you. That man cannot be me.”

  “But—”

  “No, do not interrupt me. If I slaked both our passions tonight, you would regret it.”

  “I would never regret it,” she hissed.

  “Not tonight,” he admitted. “If I did my best by us, you would not have any regrets tonight, but come morning, you would. Your virtue belongs to your future husband.”

  She began to cry again, big, silent tears that slid like diamonds down her cheeks. “James,” she moaned.

  “I cannot marry you, Daphne,” he told her quietly.

  “I always knew that,” she sniffed, struggling to find her control once more. “I was not highborn enough to—”

  “Damn it, titles do not matter here,” he snapped. “It has nothing to do with that. What matters is that we must face the reality of who we are.”

  Her breath hitched in her throat. He’d said who, not what.

  “Who are we?” she breathed.

  “You are my ward,” he growled. “And I am the man your father trusted to protect your honor. There can be no future for us.”

  “I see,” she said quietly.

  “I pray to God you do,” he mumbled.

  “I won’t humiliate myself further.”

  “Don’t,” he begged. Every single time she said some self-deprecating comment,
his heart wrenched painfully. “You have never humiliated yourself.”

  “Should I leave for bed?”

  My bed, his heart begged. “Not yet.”

  She nodded, unable to face him. She had never felt so wretched in all her life.

  “Sit by me,” he urged. He took a seat on the settee once more. He prayed she would not deny him.

  She didn’t. She sat carefully, curling her legs beneath her like a little kitten. She stared at her hands as though studying a cuticle.

  “Don’t give me the silent treatment again,” he beckoned. “If we had been speaking as…as we had, perhaps we could have seen this before it happened.”

  “I am sorry for that,” she murmured. “It was childish.”

  He had thought the same thing himself, but he could not force himself to admit it now. He was more worried about how she was acting.

  “Daphne, please tell me we understand one another.”

  She glanced at him, surprised. “I am sorry?”

  “Do you understand what I have told you?” he asked gruffly.

  “I think so,” she whispered. “There is no future because you are my guardian protector.”

  He nodded. “You realize this is no rejection of you?”

  She paled. “I—”

  “Sweetheart, I am not rejecting you,” he told her sternly. “I want you.”

  She gulped audibly, then nodded.

  He sighed, contented. As long as she accepted those two things, they would have an accord.

  “James, I really would like to retire,” she told him quietly.

  “Daphne—”

  “It isn’t you,” she lied. “Tears make my eyes feel heavy.”

  He stood and helped her up. Before she could escape, he swept in to press a brief brush of his lips over hers. She gasped.

  “Sweet dreams, Daphne.”

  She curtsied. “And you, James. May you have sweet dreams.”

  He shook his head. With the taste of her still on his tongue, with his body throbbing with need, there would be no sweet dreams. More like a waking nightmare.

  Chapter Eleven

  Daphne easily slid into Annalise’s bedroom unnoticed. Most everyone was asleep. Everyone, she thought unhappily, except for Darcie. Her maid was pacing in Daphne’s chamber, apparently waiting for her mistress to awaken.

  Well, Daphne planned a surprise for them all tomorrow morning. Suppressing a giggle, she began pulling the pins from her hair so that it tumbled down. She removed diamonds and placed them on a nearby bookshelf. It was not an easy matter to slip out of the gown, however, as it buttoned in the back. Still, James had managed to push it down over her breasts, which were easily the largest portion of her body. With a great deal of writhing, she managed to push it down her body.

  Daphne easily stripped down to a thin chemise and glanced at the bed. Annalise was sound asleep. It was tempting to wake her, but her surprise would have to wait until morning for it to be successful.

  She pulled back the covers and slipped in next to her friend. Annalise did not stir. She was doing something odd with her feet. Daphne puzzled over that before closing her eyes. Her last thoughts before she allowed sleep to take her were the memories of James and how it felt to be touched by him.

  Morning came too quickly. Daphne was jarred from a peculiar dream in which she was chasing a flying scone in her unmentionables when a scream interrupted.

  Blinking herself into awareness, she opened her eyes. Annalise was staring at her with an odd look on her face.

  “I think you frightened Edith,” Annalise told her. “She dropped my breakfast.”

  “Oops.”

  “Daphne, may I ask you something?”

  “Yes,” Daphne murmured sleepily.

  “Why are you in my bed?”

  “Well, seeing as everyone thinks I am immoral and reaching above myself, I figured I should go ahead and sleep with everyone in the family. Live up to expectations and all that.” She yawned widely.

  Annalise giggled. “Yes, well, I don’t think Edith will recover.”

  “A pity. I was thinking I should ask Lord Sinclair if I can sleep with Chrysanthe next.”

  Annalise roared with laughter. “Methinks that would start the scandal of the century. Miss Davernay prefers women to men.”

  “Well, it should clear your brother’s reputation,” Daphne jested.

  “Daphne, really, why did you sleep with me?” Annalise wanted to know.

  “Because I want to have my merry way with you. C’mon, Anna, give us a kiss.” Daphne puckered her lips and made squelching noises.

  There was another scream and the sound of leather-encased feet thudding down the stairs.

  “I guess Edith heard that,” Daphne giggled.

  “I guess so,” Annalise agreed, snickering.

  A few minutes passed before Villiers peered inside. He saw two young women laying side by side, facing one another, on the bed, talking and smiled. He shook his head.

  A pity, he thought. He would have enjoyed seeing the two lovely girls in a passionate embrace. Such things always livened up his day.

  Annalise sat up when Villiers brought up a tray set for two. Daphne resigned herself to having to wake up and sat up, as well. If they were going to have this talk, might as well do it over food.

  When they were alone, and Annalise had taken her first sip of strong tea, she sent Daphne a curious look.

  “You thought to show me how it was you slept with James?”

  Daphne waited two beats. “This is quite similar,” she admitted.

  “Tell me,” Annalise urged. She still could not get over the idea of Daph and James wrapped in each other’s arms.

  “Well, I went down to talk to him one night, and we started to argue.”

  “Argue?” Annalise breathed.

  “Yes, I argue with your brother frequently. I was about to give him an earful when I noticed that he did not look well, that he looked exhausted, and still he was pushing himself to work in his office. It was late,” she added, as though that would help Annalise understand. “So instead, I made him go up to bed.”

  “With you?” Annalise demanded.

  “No,” Daphne laughed. “I brought up a posset so he would relax and sleep well.”

  Annalise lifted her brows. She was suddenly jealous of James. She had only had a special Daphne-made posset once, and the memory still made her mouth water. Very few people rated a special posset via Daphne Davernay.

  “He wanted to talk, so I rested on the bed beside him and we talked a bit. We fell asleep talking. It was quite innocent, you see.”

  Anna’s heart lifted, hearing the truth. She no longer would have to suffer those disgusting images that kept flashing around in her head. She could not imagine anything more sickening than seeing her brother wrapped around anyone, much less one of her best friends.

  “I tried waiting up for you,” Annalise murmured.

  Daphne nibbled at her scrambled eggs. “I am sorry. Your brother kept me up late…erm…talking.”

  “Did he shout much?”

  Daphne shrugged. When he had been shouting, he really had been trying to force her to realize things she could never admit to Annalise.

  “Well, he was angry, but not at me. This situation seemed to blindside him, and he dislikes that. He decided that I should stay in town and seek a husband who will…”

  She trailed off, unable to repeat his words. The thought of anyone but James kissing her or touching her made her sick.

  “Who will please me,” she ended lamely.

  “Thank goodness he talked some sense into you, Daphne,” Annalise breathed. “I didn’t realize you and James were so close.”

  Daphne blushed. If only Anna realized how c
lose they had been last night…

  “Well, I have known him a long time. I used to care for him.”

  “Used to?” Annalise sputtered. “You mean you had a tendre for him?”

  Daphne looked away so Annalise could not see the truth in her eyes.

  “Well, yes. Papa used to tease me about it. He called it hero-worship, or some such thing. It was quite amusing, really. I dare say I will always have a soft spot where your brother is concerned. Anna, what is the matter? You’ve gone gray!”

  Annalise sent her a look of utter disgust. “Why is Chrys always right?”

  “What does Chrys have to do with it?” Daphne gasped.

  “She said you had feelings for James. She said you did, now you admit to it. Ack, how disgusting.”

  Daphne laughed morosely. “Well, it isn’t like I acted on them. I know you think I am a daydreamer, Anna, but truly I do see reality. Even…even if I carried a torch for your brother, and even if the miracle of him caring for me ever occurred, naught could come of it.”

  Daphne slid her legs over the side of the bed. She had to escape before Anna could discover the truth.

  “Why?”

  Daphne gathered up her things, balling them over her chest. “Well, for one thing, he is too far above me. Plus, there is the fact that he is my protector. I mean, it would be like a girl wanting a father or brother. Such things are simply not done, Anna.”

  Annalise tilted her head to the side. “Do you still care for him, Daphne?”

  “Well, I want a bath and clothes,” Daphne evaded. “Why don’t you keep me company while I paint today? I would welcome it.”

  “I’ll do that,” Annalise murmured. “But Daph, I still have questions.”

  I pray you do not ask them, Daphne thought as she padded into her room.

  Her heart couldn’t take admitting the disastrous truth.

  She was already in love with her guardian.

  * * * *

  Annalise studied Daphne at work. She had never actually watched her paint. She had shopped with her, she had seen the end result, but she had never watched the process.