"Why not?"
"Because no woman can."
She was a princess. No one was going to tell her she was incapable of anything. She'd been in training her whole life to do what had to be done. Now that the time had come, she didn't intend to fail. But she could see it wouldn't be easy to convince Luke. She didn't know why he was so convinced no woman could love him, but she intended to make him believe no man was beyond the reach of love, that no woman in the world could love stronger and longer than an exiled princess.
He attempted to back away, but she didn't relax her hold on him. "You're afraid."
"Yes."
"wh?"
"Because I might start to hope you won't fail."
Valeria needed nothing more to convince her that no matter how much Luke resisted, no matter how thoroughly convinced he was that no woman could love him, he had never really given up hope. She reached up to pull him down to her. He resisted for so long, she thought he would refuse. Then, abruptly, his resistance collapsed, and he engulfed her in a tempestuous embrace that took her breath away.
In Belgravia, relations between a man and a woman were governed by strict, stylized rules of etiquette. There was nothing stylized about Luke's kisses. They were savage, hungry, demanding, hard, and she welcomed every one of them. After so many years of being treated as though she were a precious object, it was thrilling to be held so tightly by a man. It was wonderful to be touched, enfolded, crushed to him, to feel her body from her breasts to her thighs pressed against Luke's hard muscles. It made her feel more real, more alive, than ever before.
But it was her desire to kiss him back that had the
greatest effect on Valeria. It was as though some wall came crashing down to liberate feelings stifled by a world where the performance of her duty and the preservation of her family's position were the only things that mattered. Her feelings for Luke owed nothing to duty. Her desire to kiss him just as passionately as he kissed her owed nothing to preservation of the royal house. It was grounded in her need to be wanted for herself.
Luke scorned her title, position, and fortune. Anything he felt for her was for her alone. Knowing that made Valeria's heart sing. He might not love her yet, but he cared a great deal. And for the time being, that was enough. There was plenty of time for love to develop. She wouldn't leave his side until he believed she could love him fully as much as he needed to be loved.
Luke broke the kiss. "I shouldn't have done that."
"You promised to teach me to feel things I never thought were possible," she said. "Can you do that without touching me?"
"You don't know what you're asking." "Then show me."
"You're a virgin."
"Every woman is a virgin until she gives herself to the man she loves."
"Don't say you love me!"
"Does it frighten you to think you might be loved?" "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I can't love. There's nothing inside here." He struck his chest. "And nothing can make it come alive again."
"You'll never know until you try."
"Valeria, this isn't like a summer outing. You can't start out, then turn back when you decide you don't like it anymore."
"Never in my life have I been able to turn around. I've always been forced to go forward."
"Loss of innocence is permanent."
"It has to happen sometime. I'd rather it happen with a man I love."
"Stop saying that!" He shook her so hard she thought her brain bounced around inside her skull.
"Do you want me to lie about the way I feel?"
"Yes."
"If I'm strong enough to face coming to a new country, learning new customs, trusting a man who has done everything possible to make me distrust him, why can't you trust your feelings?"
"Because I know feelings can lie. And they can change."
"If you loved me, would you change?"
His whole body shuddered. "No. That's why I can't take the chance."
"You don't think I can love you?"
He took a deep breath. "You don't know what it's like to be in love. You've never been allowed to find out. You don't know me or what it would be like to love a man like me."
"Then teach me. Do it for me if not for yourself. You said you stayed because you wanted to help me learn to survive in this country. My education isn't finished. You can't leave until it's done."
"No."
She needed something to push him just a little bit more. "Rudolf would teach me, but I doubt he'd want me to know too much. Then there's Neely. He's probably not very experienced, but he has a kind heart. He'd probably be willing-"
"Stop! If you're determined to ruin yourself, choose me." He seemed to lose some of the violent energy behind his outburst. "At least it will keep me from having to kill the man who does."
She didn't understand how he could be so fiercely protective of her yet keep his distance. If she could feel that intensely about anyone-and she knew she must or she never could love Luke the way he needed to be lovedshe'd never want to let him go. "Teach me," she said. "Teach me now."
"I'm breaking my word," he said.
She felt guilty about taking away something so vitally important to him, but she knew that until he lost his honor, at least the way he defined it, he could never have something much more important to both of them.
Love. Family. A life that revolved around more than a fast gun.
"Isn't the chance for love worth sacrifice? Which do you want more, to be loved or feared?"
She watched the battle inside him as it was reflected in his eyes, his face. She had asked him to give up what he had, what he'd worked years to gain, in exchange for something as hard to capture and define as the breeze that rustled the cottonwood and willow leaves. That must be very difficult for a man who'd defined himself by action. Yet she knew action would never be enough for Luke. He wanted more. She wanted to give it to him. He had to have the courage to accept it. Odd that a man who faced death fearlessly each day should tremble in fear of love. She wasn't the only one who had a lot to learn.
Luke appeared to struggle, and then the tension left him. He rubbed the back of his fingers gently against her cheek. "I've wanted to make love to you from the moment I saw you," he said.
"You loathed me."
"You were cold and distant, but I knew under that veneer beat the soul of a passionate woman. But I didn't
think you'd run me to ground like a coyote runs a rabbit to his burrow."
"You might not like my background, but I come from a long line of warriors who are willing to fight for what we want."
"I come from a short line who take what we want, use it, and discard it when we're through."
"You're only an amateur compared to an absolute monarch. Now stop trying to make me change my mind."
"I don't think I could let you." He pulled her to him. "You're in my blood."
Valeria slipped her arms around his waist, squeezed tight as she pressed her head against his chest. "I want to invade every part of your heart, soul, mind, and spirit."
Luke folded her in his embrace. "You already have." He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I dreamed about you that first night."
Valeria looked up. "I thought you spent the night standing outside my hotel room."
"Only part of it."
"That's when I knew you weren't what you pretended to be."
Luke responded by kissing her into silence. Valeria didn't mind. Nor did she mind when they sank to the bedroll, Luke pulling her into his lap. She liked his being so much taller than she, but it was easier to kiss him sitting down. It was especially nice to do so sitting in his lap. The informality, the intimacy made her feel ordinary for the first time in her life. It made her feel valued just for herself. As a woman.
She didn't know that sitting in Luke's lap would cause unfamiliar warmth to gradually pervade her body. With it came excitement, tension, a feeling of being on the verge of discovering something wonderful. She'
d barely gotten comfortable when Luke laid her down on the bed-roll, then lay down beside her, leaning over her, looking down at her with an expression she couldn't fathom. "You're beautiful," he said softly.
How could he say that? She wore a plain dress, no jewelry or cosmetics, and her hair was a mess. It would have taken Elvira a full day to get her ready to be seen.
"You look real, not someone to be bowed or curtsied to. I like you better this way."
She wanted to believe him. She'd learned a lot since coming to America, but she hadn't quite learned to separate her attractiveness from the way she dressed.
"Is this what you say to other women?"
She knew right away she'd asked the wrong question, but she had to know. How could she believe him if he said the same thing to everyone?
"I've never felt this way about another woman," Luke said. "That makes everything I say different, even if I sometimes use the same words."
That wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for. "Doesn't every man who meets you use the same words to tell you you're beautiful, to compliment you?" "Yes."
"When you meet a man you love, wouldn't you hear the same words but know they're different this time?"
She couldn't help but smile. "You should have been a diplomat. You're very smooth with words."
"Only because I mean them. You don't need extravagant gowns, fabulous jewels, or your hair twisted and curled and loaded with flowers or bird feathers to be beautiful. You don't need palaces. You're beautiful lying on a bedroll in the desert under a night sky. You're beautiful enough to make me jealous of every man who sets eyes on you."
Valeria had spent her whole life preparing to be seen, to make an impression by her appearance. To be valued in and of herself, devoid of her public image, was difficult to grasp. Could any man love her that much?
"Do you think you could be happy living like an ordinary woman?"
"I don't know what an ordinary woman's life is really like. The only one I've ever met is Mrs. Brightman. I'm sure I have a great deal to learn, but I think I would like running my own home, taking care of my children, having a husband I don't have to share with a mistress."
Luke chuckled. "You're turning into an American woman real fast."
"I could never go back to Belgravia, not even if my uncle regained his throne."
"He might insist that you return."
"I would tell him that I couldn't leave my husband and children. Even in Belgravia, a woman is expected to stay with her family."
"But you're not married, and you don't have any children."
"You told me in America women can choose their husbands. Well, I intend to choose mine."
"And what will you do if he doesn't choose you?"
"A wise woman never chooses a man who hasn't already chosen her."
That sobered him up. "That doesn't prevent her from choosing the wrong man."
"There was always the possibility I'd be the wife of some ruler, no matter how small the country, so I was taught how to judge character. I'll make certain the man I choose is perfect for me."
He seemed to draw back. "Then you've chosen the wrong man to take your innocence."
"I've chosen the perfect man." She pulled him down until their lips met.
Her body had recognized him the moment she met
him. So had her instincts. Only her mind failed to see that though Luke appeared to be different, he was very much the kind of man she'd been used to most of her life, a man determined to succeed regardless of the cost to himself or others.
Only with him there was a difference. A small, essential part, well hidden and probably never acknowledged, hoped for something better. It was that tiny part that had caused him to wait until Valeria rehired him, prompted him to teach her what it would be like to live in America.
He had tried to tell her he wasn't the man for her, but she knew better. His kisses had become warm and gentle. She missed the power, the sense of being overwhelmed by his intensity, but she welcomed the tenderness. Being overwhelmed made her feel safe and protected. Tenderness made her feel valued and loved. The two together were wonderful.
Contact with Luke's body caused her skin to tingle with pinpricks of sensation. Luke's arms were around her, his body looming above her, his chest brushing against her breasts. A tingling sensation sprang up in her breasts, concentrating in her nipples until she found it difficult to remain still.
Luke forced her teeth apart, and his tongue invaded her mouth. A new set of nerve endings came to life. If she had married Rudolf, she would never have expected him to thrust his tongue into her mouth, would probably have rejected any attempts from him to do so. With Luke, it seemed like one more example of the ways in which America was different from Belgravia, a difference she decided she liked once she recovered from the shock.
A sense of adventure surged through her, encouraging her to counter Luke's invasion with one of her own. But what began as an assault quickly turned into a sensual duel, Luke's tongue wrapping itself around hers. She escaped and tried to dart around and into his mouth. Their tongues engaged in a thrust and parry, then a sinuous dance followed by a chase that left Valeria panting for breath. She broke their kiss and fell back, emotionally exhausted.
Luke was made of sterner stuff. Without pause he spread kisses over her mouth, her cheeks, eyes, nose, eyelids, forehead, even her ears. That nearly caused Valeria to rise straight up off the ground. He nibbled her earlobe, nipped it with his teeth, traced its outer edge with the tip of his tongue. In less than a minute he reduced her to a helpless, quivering mass.
But not so helpless she didn't know when his hand covered her breast. Nor did her concentration falter when his lips returned to tease her mouth once more. The feel of his hand cupping her breast caused sensations to concentrate in that part of her body. Her nipple turned as hard as a pebble. The muscles in her back tightened and caused her shoulders to arch, pressing her harder and deeper into his palm, making the pleasure still more intense.
Luke scattered kisses on the side of her neck and across her shoulders, leaving her body in an uproar of heat and delicious sensations. These intensified when he unbuttoned her dress and lowered his lips to the tops of her breasts. Unable to lie still, she writhed on the bedroll, turning first to him, then away, drawn to the feast of pleasure and retreating to recover her breath before indulging herself once more.
All of which proved a mere prelude to the moment his lips touched her nipples.
Valeria's body went still, then stiff, then it arched in pure, incredible pleasure. She had never imagined anything would feel quite so spectacularly wonderful. So unbelievably extraordinary. So unlike anything she'd ever
experienced. His tongue slowly circled her nipple, creating a ring of fire that made her skin feel so hot, she was afraid it would burn Luke's tongue.
When he took her nipple between his teeth, she gasped. When he nipped at it, she cried out. When he suckled it gently, she moaned in ecstasy. When he uncovered her other breast and allowed his fingertip to torture her second nipple, she was certain she couldn't stand so much pleasure. She quivered and writhed under Luke's assault. Yet she placed her hands on the back of his head and pressed him against her. The turmoil left her only a sliver of attention to give to the hand that played down her side and across her belly to undo the last buttons of her dress.
Yet when that same hand moved across her pelvis, around her hip, and down her thigh, she became aware of a center of warmth that had formed deep in her belly. It wasn't nearly as tempestuous as the riot of sensation that rocked the rest of her body, but the warmth became intense and spread like a heavy liquid, flooding all in its path.
Then, almost without her knowing what he was about, Luke slipped her dress and her chemise from her body. An extra moment to remove her boots and socks, and she lay naked before him.
"You're so beautiful," Luke murmured as he ran his hands over her body, touching every part once, twice, and once again as though he wanted to memori
ze her. "Your skin is like ivory in the moonlight."
Valeria felt his warmth banish a momentary chill. She loved Luke. She trusted him. There was nothing to fear, no reason to hold back.
She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his body, but every thought flew out of her head when Luke touched her between her legs. Her breath caught, her body turned rigid.
"I won't hurt you," Luke whispered. "Relax and open for me."
Doing as he asked required the greatest act of faith in her life. She kept telling herself she wanted him to make love to her, that she wanted to give her body to him, yet she couldn't entirely banish the fear of the unknown. Doctors had touched her there as part of the arrangements for her marriage to Rudolf. It had been a time of pain, terror, and shame.
Luke's gentle touch reassured her. His fingertips feathered over her belly, her thighs, the insides of her legs, increasing the pool of liquid warmth in her belly. Finally, Valeria relaxed. Her body tensed again when she felt Luke's finger enter her. He stroked gently, waiting until the muscles relaxed before probing deeper. Still she couldn't entirely relax, couldn't be entirely sure discomfort wouldn't follow. Then he touched a spot that caused a wave of pleasure to shoot through her with the impact of a lightning bolt. She gasped for breath as he continued to rub the sensitive spot, causing the waves to radiate into larger and larger circles until they encompassed her entire body.
Valeria grabbed hold of Luke, gripped him with all her strength, as moan after moan ripped from her body until she thought she would scream. Then the ecstasy crested and released, seemed to flow from her body like an ebbing tide of rippling heat.
Valeria's muscles gave way, and she collapsed onto the bedroll, her breath coming in huge gulps. "I never knew anything could feel like that," she gasped.
"It only gets better," Luke said as he shed the last of his clothes.
Valeria felt wrung out, exhausted. She was certain she was incapable of feeling anything more.
She was wrong.
Luke rose above her, his body suspended on powerful arms and legs. "This may be a little uncomfortable at first, but it won't last long."
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