by Dawn Ireland
Without breaking eye contact, he advanced. She toyed with the idea of asking him to leave, but she knew he wouldn’t. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to.
With some difficulty, she tucked her sheet into a makeshift knot above her breasts, keeping one hand on the tenuous closure. She’d meant to back away, but her feet stayed anchored to the floor, waiting for what her heart told her was inevitable.
When he stopped in front of her, he stood so close she could see the rise and fall of his chest. She lifted her head. The cleft in his chin added character and strengthened what would otherwise have been a beautiful face. She watched in fascination as he lowered his head.
His lips brushed against hers, causing her whole body to tingle. “Please don’t deny me,” he whispered into her mouth before claiming it in a kiss that made her long for... something. She lifted her arms to his shoulders, wishing she could feel the warmth of his skin instead of velvet.
As if he knew her thoughts, he backed away. His hungry gaze never left hers as he removed his coat, then untied his cravat and leisurely lifted the white shirt up over his head.
She felt as if she’d been turned to stone. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. He moved close to her, and she was amazed to find her arms worked. Of their own accord, they reached out to him. Her hands glided up his chest, feeling the individual muscle ridges.
He groaned and drew her against the length of him. Finding her mouth again, he kissed her. His tongue teased her lips, demanding entry. She let him have his way and was startled by the feelings he evoked as his tongue explored her mouth. He tasted of spirits, the warmth of him settling into her soul.
Tangling his hands in her hair, he leaned his forehead against hers. “God, Alex, you taste wonderful.”
Declan released her hair and backed away. She wanted to cry out in frustration, until she realized he intended to remove his breeches.
His hand on the buttons, he gazed at her, a challenge in his gaze. She could tell him to stop now, or suffer the consequences.
She’d lived her life acting first and thinking later. This was most assuredly not the time to think.
“Go on.” She crossed her arms and waited. Declan undid the buttons and bent down to remove his breeches. He was moving too slowly. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he stood up. When she got her first good look at him, the breath left her body.
As a child, she’d caught glimpses of naked men on The Merry Elizabeth, so it wasn’t that she didn’t know how a man was formed. But Declan was beautiful. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she couldn’t look away, even if she’d wanted to.
The lamplight cast highlights and shadows over Declan’s muscular body. Long wavy black hair drew her attention downward, past broad shoulders to his chest. His skin glistened in the lamp’s soft glow, as if inviting her touch. Her hands wanted to take the same path as her eyes, following over each muscle, until they reached slim hips. Her inspection stopped at his manhood. The thick column sprang from its nest of dark curls, fully erect.
Raw power emanated from his lithe movements as he started toward her. He stopped a couple of feet away.
“I want to look at you.” He fumbled with the makeshift knot. The sheet fell to the floor with a whisper of sound, exposing her to his view.
“I’m glad you didn’t take my advice about sleeping in the nude.” Declan ached at the sight of her. She was petite and perfectly formed, with high creamy breasts tipped by seashell pink nipples. Constant exercise had smoothed the skin over muscle, but she was well rounded at hips and breasts, her curves emphasized by a tiny waist.
It took all his control to keep from grabbing her and making love to her quickly. He’d spent years learning to pleasure women, but this was different. She was a virgin, and he’d avoided virgins.
Alex returned his gaze, as if daring him to find her wanting.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “I knew you would be.” He moved closer and leaned down, then kissed the tip of her breast. He drew the softness of her into his mouth, wanting never to let go.
“Declan, stop. No. Ohhh.” Alex grabbed his hair, keeping his mouth at her breast. He tormented first one, then the other, rolling his tongue over the hardening nubs. “Please,” Alex moaned.
He removed her hands from his hair and kissed a trail upward, between her breasts, to the delicate skin on her neck. He’d waited so long to hold her like this. It felt like a dream. He hugged her closer and roamed her silken back with his hands. Her soft body yielded to his. She fit as though she belonged in his arms.
He breathed deeply, his face buried in the vibrant hair that held him spellbound. She smelled of vanilla, a fragrance he would never associate with anyone else.
His Alex. She was his. For tonight at least, and until he had to let her go.
His hands continued their exploration, one finally finding its way to the soft nest of curls between her legs. Warm moisture met his touch. He listened to her breathing. Small gasps mixed with tiny whimpering sounds fueled his passion. She clung to him as if she’d never be able to stand on her own.
Alex felt as if she was coming apart. Declan’s hands seemed to be everywhere. She cupped his buttocks and leaned back, relishing the firm muscles beneath her fingers. His hand was between their bodies, teasing that sensitive spot between her legs.
He stopped. Before she knew what was happening, an arm slid under her thighs. Declan picked her up and carried her to the bed. Their mouths still joined, he gently lowered her to the soft mattress. He lay beside her, kissing her eyes and nose, finally returning to her lips.
Feeling a bit unsure, she leaned back and began an exploration of her own. She wanted to really look at him, so she sat up. Using her hands as her eyes, she started with his face.
She loved his face. She could feel the strong bone structure that made him look like a sculpture of Apollo she’d seen once. Declan’s eyes followed her movements from under thick-lashed eyelids as she continued downward.
Marveling at the strong column of his neck, her hands continued caressing until they smoothed over his chest, her splayed fingers not covering half the expanse. She felt the muscles in his belly tighten as her hands moved in small circular motions, relishing the feel of the springy hairs under her palms. Her exploration went lower, until she came to his silken shaft. When she took him in her hand, he sat up quickly, and drew her into an embrace. He groaned into her mouth as she continued to caress the smooth flesh.
The feel of him built the tension in her. She was just starting to satisfy her curiosity, when he leaned back and looked at her. “Alex, I can’t wait much longer.”
She wasn’t sure what to do, but she wanted to experience everything. Nothing mattered except the new and exciting feelings he evoked. They stared at each other for a long moment, desire pulsing between them. “I want you, Declan,” Alex whispered as she slanted her lips over his.
Those few little words let loose passions she hadn’t realized he’d kept in check. She tried to shove him back down on the bed, but he resisted. Instead, he turned her over on her back and moved on top of her, bracing most of his weight on his arms. He rubbed the lower part of his body against hers as she arched up, trying to meet him.
He entered her carefully at first. Capturing her mouth, he stifled her cry as he pushed all the way in. The pain momentarily dimmed her feeling of euphoria.
Declan stilled, his whole body tense. “Are you hurt? I promise I’ll not go on until you’re ready. But God, don’t ask me to stop.”
His voice sounded strained. What did he mean, go on? He started to kiss her again and, with one hand, rubbed a tender nipple.
Sensation engulfed her again, stronger than before. She wasn’t even aware when he began to move. Slowly at first, then faster, until she felt as if she was on the brink of some great discovery. The intensity became so great, it teetered on the edge between pain and pleasure.
She wanted to stay here forever. Joined in this amazing ac
t to the man she loved.
Then her world exploded. Spasms radiated from where they were joined. She felt her body clench around him. Emotion and physical sensation blended as one. She clung to him, not really knowing where she stopped and he began.
He was still moving inside her when she felt him stiffen, small shudders coursing through his body.
“Alexandra.”
Somehow he captured all the wonder of what they’d shared in her name. He collapsed on top of her, but she didn’t mind. She relished the weight of him, wanting to keep him close.
Slowly their breathing quieted, and Declan rolled to one side. He propped himself up on an elbow, studying her. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I thought you intended to marry me.”
“Have no doubts.” He brushed a damp curl off her forehead. “My lionhearted Alex. Most women are terrified their first time.”
Should she have been hesitant? She wasn’t going to pretend. She liked what they’d just done. If he wanted some simpering miss, then he should have found another woman to marry. “I guess I’ll never be like most women.”
Declan laughed. “Thank God for that.”
“Have you been with many women like this?”
Declan’s finger had started to blaze a path between the valley of her breasts, but he leaned back at her question and tapped her on the nose. “One of us needed experience.”
“But were those other women... Was it the same with them?”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “You ask too many questions.”
“How else am I going to get answers?”
Declan raised an eyebrow. “All right, you may ask any question.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “As long as it doesn’t concern other women. Now, what do you want to know?”
She really wanted to ask if he could ever love her, but didn’t dare. Until he dealt with his father’s memory, she doubted he could love anyone. If only he’d talk about his past. Then maybe...
“What do you remember about your father?” The question was out of her mouth before she thought about it. She doubted Declan would answer, but it was worth a try.
For a moment, he studied her intently, then turned onto his back. With his hands clasped behind his head, he stared at the ceiling.
“He was a hard man,” Declan said quietly.
“Perhaps, but he must have had some goodness in him. He loved your mother.”
“Yes. Although I never saw it myself.” Declan turned to look at her, a rueful smile on his lips. “He certainly never loved me. I can count on one hand the number of times my father and I were in the same room. My governess and the servants were under strict orders to keep me out of his sight.”
He stood and turned out the lamp, then crossed to the fireplace. The small glow from the fire illuminated his beautiful body. She wished she could capture his image as he rested one hand on the mantle and studied the fire.
“Did you know you can see into the drawing room from the first landing on the stairs? I used to watch my father whenever the door was open. He’d sit there for hours, a brandy snifter in his hand, staring at that damned portrait of my mother.”
“Surely you had others you cared about. What about friends?”
Declan turned toward her, his face a handsome mask. “The highlight of my life was being sent to our country house. The servants at Eberly didn’t really care what I did as long as I stayed out of their way.
“Meeting your grandfather saved my life. Without him, I had nothing. That’s why I went to The Merry Elizabeth to watch out for you and your family.”
“I’m sorry I was so difficult.” She wanted to say she was sorry for the lonely little boy who’d needed someone so desperately, but she knew he’d never accept her pity.
Declan gave her a slight smile. “You didn’t want to be taken away from your home. I understand that now. You were lucky, you had twelve years with your parents.”
She rose and crossed to where he stood, then reached up and brushed back the wayward hair on his forehead. “I’m sure your mother loved you.”
“I wish I’d known her. My life could have been so different if only...” Declan gave a little laugh. “It doesn’t matter now.”
In spite of the fact that he towered over her, all she could see was a broken little boy. “What your father did was wrong. Instead of cherishing the gift your mother left him, he let bitterness rule his life. Not everyone reacts the same way.”
“I wouldn’t know.” He turned away and studied the fire, his voice reflecting all the lonely years.
She turned him to face her. “Declan, listen to me. You’re not like your father. Love won’t destroy you.” She stood on tiptoes and ran her hands through his hair, then tugged his head down, forcing him to look at her. How could she make him understand he was no longer on the outside looking in?
“I love you, Declan.”
He stiffened. The muscle in his jaw started jumping furiously before he drew her to him, kissing her as though she would disappear at any moment. He lowered her to the rug in front of the fireplace, making love to her with an urgency that left her breathless.
Filling her senses, he seemed to be everywhere. She clung to him, her body responding like a harp in the hands of a master. His music echoed in her, even after they lay back, sated, on the thick carpet.
Declan spread her discarded sheet over them, warding off the chill of the predawn hours. She snuggled close and rested her head on his chest. Swirling a fingertip through the silken hair near one of his nipples, she marveled at the small intimacy.
She closed her eyes and drifted, half asleep. In her mind’s eye she saw a lonely little boy sitting on the stairs. Unaware, she murmured, “You’re not alone now, you’ll never be alone.”
Not alone. Declan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was a seductive thought.
He gazed down at Alex’s sleeping form. Smoothing the hair away from her face, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She’d said she loved him. Sighing, he lay back. He shouldn’t be pleased, but he was. Why was it no other woman made him feel the things she did? Drawing her closer, he shut his eyes.
Unbidden, the memory of his father’s drink-ravaged face intruded on his thoughts, a firm reminder that love could destroy everything he’d worked for. He didn’t love her, did he? Maybe not yet, his inner voice warned, but this desire to keep her with him was dangerous.
Once they had a son, she had to leave. It would be best for them both. In the last hazy moments before sleep, he wondered if, even now, he had the strength to let her go.
Chapter 17
With her eyes closed, Alex stretched, enjoying a rare sense of well-being. She reached beneath her blanket and searched for her sheet. Could she have kicked it to the bottom of the bed? Odd, she was sure there was one last night when she... Her eyes flew open.
What had she done?
She sat up and attempted to search the room, but the bright sunlight momentarily blinded her. When she became accustomed to the light, she saw her sheet crumpled before the fireplace, but the room was empty. Declan was gone. He must have carried her to the bed during the night, then left.
An irrational part of her wished he’d stayed. Doubts flitted at the edge of her consciousness. What was he thinking? Did he regret his offer?
She could almost hear Eleanor telling her this was not the time for regrets. The damage was done, and Alex had to live with the consequences of her actions.
With a sigh, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs around, then put her feet on the cold floor. Eleanor would be right, of course. She’d agreed to this marriage, now she had to make the best of it. The cold seeped up her legs, seeming to invade her soul.
If only she hadn’t fallen in love with him! Declan could give her everything she’d ever wanted, including her freedom, but she’d trade it all to hear him say he loved her.
She angrily brushed her tangled curls away from her face and shoved t
he heavy mass back with one hand. Hell and damnation, she wasn’t accomplishing anything just sitting here. She got up, strode over to the dressing table, and snatched a comb from the tray. Pain radiated from her scalp as she tugged on her curls.
So Declan hadn’t said he loved her. What difference did that make? She had a lifetime to convince him love could bring great joy. A lifetime of doing what they did last night.
Heat rushed into her face as she gazed in the mirror. Had she changed? No, the reflection was the same, but if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the touch of his hands, his tongue, his body joined with hers. Never had a memory been so vivid.
Without a doubt he’d been with many women, but surely last night was special? Fear, swift and strong, enveloped her. What if last night hadn’t changed anything? She needed to see him, if only to be reassured he wasn’t totally unaffected.
She rushed to her wardrobe and chose a day gown of coral silk. The color gave her complexion a translucent quality. It wouldn’t hurt to look her best when she saw him again.
In the midst of trying to lace her corset, Anna came flying into the room without knocking. “Oh, Lady Lochsdale, I just heard the news. Isn’t it wonderful! You’re going to be my cousin.”
“Who told you?”
“Mama. She and Lord Worthington had a talk this morning. He’s planning an engagement ball for next Saturday.”
Typical Declan, he didn’t wait to consult her. Surprised, she found she didn’t mind. It was rather nice to have someone do things for her.
“Was it terribly romantic?” Anna was practically jumping up and down. “How did he ask you?”
“Actually, he didn’t ask me.”
“No, but I thought...”
“He told me.”
“Oh.” From the look on Anna’s face, she couldn’t seem to decide if that was romantic or not.
“I’ve agreed to the arrangement. At least I’ll be his wife.” She held up her laces. “Would you help me with these? I’d like to get downstairs as soon as possible, and I haven’t a clue where Mary’s gone off to.”