‘Whatever scruples I was born with I lost long ago. We are not children. We both know what is happening to us and we both know what this is leading to. I want to make love to you—and I think you want me, too. You might say my motives are anything but noble and decent and you would be right, but they are adult and natural. I will not force you. You have to want this as much as I do.’
Want? That word didn’t express how Lydia felt, how she yearned with every fibre of her being, every pulse and bone and breath she took to take what he was offering. She did not know this man, yet the physical desire she felt for him ached inside her. The intensity of feeling between them was evident, but not easily understood, although what she did know was that it offered a new excitement, as though the future held a secret and a promise.
A small insidious voice whispered a caution, reminding her that any kind of liaison with him could bring her nothing but heartache, but another voice was whispering something else, telling her not to let the moment pass, to catch it and hold on to it. She would welcome it, glory in it, if he would make love to her here, in this room—in the same bed she was to have spent her wedding night with Henry. Alex’s powerful masculinity was an assault to her senses. As if moved by forces beyond her control, she was unable to resist him, but she would not tempt fate beyond this one night.
‘Tell me what it is you want,’ he murmured, taking her upper arms and drawing her close. ‘Would you like me to leave?’
Drawing an unsteady breath, Lydia rested her forehead against his chest. ‘No—please don’t go. I don’t know what is happening to me,’ she whispered. Raising her head, she met his gaze. ‘What I feel is too strong to fight—I don’t think that I even want to. My emotions seem to be all over the place.’
Watching her closely, Alex saw something move and glow a little in her eyes, and a tiny flame of triumph licked about his heart. Completely relaxed, he smiled then, that unnerving white smile that could charm and melt the stoniest heart.
‘Am I to take it that my attentions are not unwelcome?’ He spoke softly, his voice a caress. She nodded. ‘I’m glad you don’t find me repulsive,’ he murmured tenderly.
‘No—never that,’ she replied honestly.
Alex smiled. ‘You are not only beautiful and clever, Miss Brook, but mysterious also. In truth, I will do my best to please you. I am aware of the importance of what you are doing and never having had the responsibility of being a woman’s first lover, I consider it a privilege—and a pleasure.’
His voice was low, with a husky rasp, and his eyes held Lydia’s captive, gleaming in the dim light. The effect of his intimate expression made her heart turn over. His potent virility was acting like a drug to her senses, the tug of his voice, his eyes, too strong for her to resist. Sensations of unexpected pleasure washed over her, making her want to stay, making it impossible for her to leave. What was happening to her? She had never felt like this, but she recognised the feeling. It was happiness, a feeling she had not felt in a long time and never with such warmth, such intensity.
As if her need communicated itself to Alex, with his eyes fastened to her lips he said, ‘What are you thinking? Tell me?’
With a shaking breath she raised her eyes to his. ‘I am wondering when you are going to kiss me again.’
He smiled. ‘And I am asking myself if your mouth still tastes as sweet on mine as it did a few minutes ago.’
Lydia’s heart skipped a beat and any resistance she might have had disintegrated in that moment. She felt herself melting, ready to experience whatever lay ahead. She was sinking into a deep, sensual spell.
Alex captured her face between his hands and turned it up to his. He gazed into her eyes, unconsciously memorising the way she looked, her cheeks flushed, soft and alluring. There was an enormous amount of subliminal sensuality in her every gesture and, seeing her bite her lower lip apprehensively with the decision that she had made, plucked a deep chord within him.
‘For one night I am asking you to forget everything else. Do you not find that appealing?’ he said, his light blue eyes, darkened in the muted light of the room, caressing her face. ‘And my name is Alex. Do you mind if I call you Lydia?’ She shook her head. ‘Good. Now that is out of the way I think we should soon retire to the comfortable bed that awaits us, where neither conscience nor Henry will intrude tonight.’
Slowly he rubbed his thumb over her soft bottom lip, but the deep green depths of her eyes were pulling him inexorably in. Lydia shivered inwardly, her lips parting on a breathless gasp, and she tried in vain to see past the darkness of his magnetic, shameless eyes. Sliding his hand round her nape, he kissed her. It was a hard, drugging kiss, the kiss of a starving man hopelessly trying to sate his hunger. His arms went around her, and she melted against his chest, trembling, welcoming his lips, his tongue as it invaded her mouth.
What seemed to be an eternity later Alex put her from him and did what he had been wanting to do throughout the meal. Raising his hands, he began removing the pins from her hair, with deft fingers combing out each curl and braid until it fell in dark shining locks about her shoulders.
‘This,’ he said, glorying in the tender passion in her eyes, feeling the heat flame in his belly as he drew aside the curtain of her hair and placed a kiss in the warm, sweet-scented hollow of her throat, ‘is what I’ve been thinking of from the moment you walked into the dining room.’
As his lips trailed over her flesh, with a gasp of exquisite pleasure Lydia threw back her head and closed her eyes. ‘I cannot believe this is happening to me—that I am even allowing it to happen,’ she breathed softly. ‘I feel I must confess to having little knowledge or experience of the intimacies that take place between a man and a woman. I’m afraid that you will find me a complete novice,’ she murmured. She knew she was on the brink of the unknown and her pulses began to race dangerously. ‘I—I feel I am heading for something I cannot possibly know how to handle.’
‘Then I think it is about time you learnt,’ he replied seductively.
Again his mouth laid siege to her own, taking her lips in a fierce, devouring kiss that sent jolt after jolt of exquisite sensations rocketing through her, filling her with a fever of longing. Leaving off just long enough to divest her of her dress and undergarments with the dexterous ease of long practice, murmuring to her between kisses which he dropped on creamy flesh as each item of clothing was removed, he somehow managed to remove his own attire in the process. Lydia heard his sharp intake of breath as her body was slowly revealed to him, his eyes fastening hungrily on her naked beauty. She was gloriously lovely, and he was bewitched, helpless to resist such temptation.
Lydia was enthralled by what was happening to her—by her own nakedness and his, after he had removed his clothes unselfconsciously to reveal the muscled, well-honed body of an athlete, brown and hard and eager—and she took a moment to admire his shoulders and deep chest, matted with crisp black hair. She flushed and tried to avoid looking at his manhood, and Alex chuckled softly, charmed. Passion flared and he pulled her down onto the bed, soft and ready for them.
In the glow of the single candlelight that burnished their bodies gold, he took a moment to study her thoughtfully. Lydia felt the heat at each spot that his eyes rested on her body. He took his time, with his mouth moving lingeringly over her, and when his lips took possession of her breast she was unable to stifle a gasp. Never would she have suspected that the feel of a man’s lips on such a secret part of her body could create such incredible pleasure. He continued kissing her, enfolding, caressing, gently at first and then with increasing urgency, sliding his hand down to the curve of her waist, kissing her eyes, her throat, the rosy nipples of her breasts, his fingers burning wherever they touched. No part of her escaped and her sighs and moans fed Alex’s ardour, fuelling his passion.
There was a moment when, at such an intimate invasion of her body, she almost objected, to thrust him away, but he fi
lled her with such exquisite promise as he continued to arouse her that she moved her hips instinctively against him, pressing, arching herself closer. All rational thought had flown from her head. Deep within her a spark flickered and flared. She shivered, feeling the hard strength of his body pressed to hers, his strong, knowledgeable hands moving everywhere, arousing the hunger she could not deny and a wild elation that went surging through her and singing through her blood. With an abandon that shocked her, she melted against him, responding to the need he was so skilfully building in her.
As he began to surrender to a primitive and powerful, desperate need that became a torment inside, the restraint Alex had shown so far vanished in his desire to possess the woman writhing beneath him, her hands generating sparks as they moved over his shoulders and back and down to his taut hips. The perfection of her body intoxicated him. The perfumed mass of her hair tumbled about them. He knew instinctively that, unlike all the other women he had bedded, she was sexually untutored. He gloried in her and the soft yielding body was redolent of his passion.
Tears sprang to Lydia’s eyes at the fierce stab of pain when he entered her, filling her, but the few seconds of discomfort were lost in what came after. The flame he had ignited with his touch, his kisses and caresses, was too well lit. After that there was no holding back, no thought of past or future. No thought of Henry or anything else, only now, this moment, as they gave and received pleasure, moving surely towards the ecstasy that consumed them both. It was wild and primitive and growing, something so wonderful that Lydia’s conscience receded completely as she unwittingly drove Alex to unparalleled agonies of desire.
Wave after wave of exquisite pleasure washed over her and she felt herself being ruled by him, possessed by him, igniting her female flesh with new life. Wrapped in the pure rapture of their union, yielding and merging with each other, their need for each other overwhelmed them and Lydia’s body, released at last from its long-held virginity, became insatiable for whatever he had to offer.
Breathing heavily as they waited for the slow and powerful beating of their hearts to return to normal, when they lay spent, their bodies entwined together, the hot climactic world that had held them in its thrall began to subside. The golden glow of the single candle washed over their skin. It seemed a long time before either of them stirred. Alex shifted to his side, taking Lydia with him and drawing the quilt over them both.
Propping himself up on his elbow, Alex gazed at the incredibly beautiful young woman nestling in the crook of his arm, her hair a dark blur against the white pillows. He noticed that her eyes had taken on a peculiar deep lustre and that her skin, like his own, was damp and glowed with an inner fire. She was goodness and gentleness personified, an enchanting temptress who had yielded without reservation.
‘Are you all right? Did I hurt you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her cheeks a rosy hue. ‘At first. It didn’t last long.’
‘Forgive me. I’m not in the habit of deflowering virgins.’
She stretched languidly, her eyes soft and alluring beneath half-lowered lids. ‘I found it wonderful, but quite exhausting. I’m sleepy.’
‘The night is not yet over,’ Alex breathed, nuzzling her ear. ‘Sleep is the last thing on my mind.’
Her skin gleaming with a silken sheen, Lydia’s lips broke into a smile. Feeling neither shame nor guilt, raising her hand, she slid it about his neck and brought his head down to hers, placing her mouth on his. Again they made love, slowly now and with a tenderness which was beyond anything Lydia had ever known. Amazed by her own sensuality, naive and unskilled in the arts of making love, she allowed Alex to introduce her to new fields of pleasure, teaching her how to please him, watching as he awakened her into a tantalising creature who breathed sensuality, whose body pulsated with fire.
* * *
Later, when Lydia at last succumbed to exhaustion and slept, with her hair tumbling onto the pillows, her cheeks flushed with her exertions, Alex studied her face, feeling that even if he lived to be a hundred without another sight of her, his memory would still retain every curve, every line of it. Getting out of bed, he began to dress to go back to his own room, trying not to make a noise so as not to disturb her, but she must have sensed his absence.
Opening her eyes for a moment, Lydia was confused. Reaching out her hand to the empty space he had occupied, she half opened her eyes. Still trapped in the throes of passion, she sighed, feeling sexually awakened and free of ignorance and anxiety.
‘Please come back to bed,’ she murmured, her voice husky with sleep. ‘I never dreamed that loving someone could be like this—so wonderful.’
Hearing her remark, Alex felt his face freeze and a warning voice sounded in his mind. ‘No, you don’t,’ he said, his tone sharper than he intended.
‘Don’t? Don’t what?’
‘Love has nothing to do with what has happened between us, so don’t imagine it has.’
Bewildered by his words and the tone of his voice, Lydia opened her eyes wide. Too inexperienced to hide her feelings, her face was like an open book. She had discovered in being with him, what it was like to be violently attracted to a man without loving him. On seeing him pulling on his clothes, she sat up, disappointment clouding her eyes. ‘You’re leaving?’ He nodded, picking up his jacket and thrusting his arms into the sleeves. ‘But—but I thought...’
In a blinding flash it dawned on Alex that she might expect more from him than he was prepared to give and, if so, he must put a crushing end to it right now before she even had time to nurture the idea. ‘What? What did you think, Lydia? That after one night in your bed I might be so besotted that I would offer what Henry could not give you?’
With those words, he broke the slender, fragile thread that had held them together a moment before—fragile yet invisibly binding, for Lydia would never be able to forget. Deeply hurt and bewildered by his attitude, she shook her head. ‘No—no, of course I didn’t.’
She tried to sound unconcerned when she spoke, but somehow it didn’t sound like that to Alex. When he heard the telltale catch in her voice, it was so touching that he was moved in spite of himself and when he next spoke he gentled his tone.
‘Because of who I am, I have become accustomed to being pursued by all manner of young ladies and it would not be the first time a woman has insinuated herself into my bed with marriage as her object—’
‘But it wasn’t like that,’ Lydia was quick to point out, her chin lifting with indignation. ‘I did not insinuate myself into your bed—which you know perfectly well.’
‘No—you didn’t, and I apologise. But if you think I feel flattered that you gave me that which you have denied Henry, then you are mistaken.’
His face had hardened into an expressionless mask, his words flicking over Lydia like a whiplash. ‘You make me sound mercenary—like a schemer—when I am not,’ she said, her voice trembling with emotion, for she was unable to understand why her simple words on waking should have created so much wrath in him. ‘If you will recall it was you who suggested we—we...’
‘I did. I admit that and you knew what you were doing, what would happen between us when you let me into your room. In time you will learn that sharing a bed with a man does not bring commitment—so do not tempt fate beyond this one night, for it would grieve me sorely to see the intimacy we have shared turn to bitterness. On meeting you I may have lost my head, but I am not going to make any undying declarations of love.’
Lydia actually flinched at the bite in his voice. She felt all the unease of her position. There had been no vows between them and, because she was a nobody and quite penniless, there never would be. Despite the tender words he had spoken to her as they made love, she wasn’t going to fool herself into believing it meant any more than that. She was unhappily aware that he had made love to countless other women and that he had simply needed her tonight as he would
any other.
‘I did not expect you to.’
‘I am glad to hear it. I despise the romantic ideal of love. I’ve seen enough of it in the past to know its destructive effects. Desire I understand. It’s a more honest emotion. Passion and desire are easily appeased—fleeting—and easily doused.’
‘Then it’s a good thing not every man is as cynical as you are. Not every woman is as ambitious and devious as you seem to think they are.’
‘As to that, I have yet to meet one who isn’t. You knew the score when you let me into your bed. I don’t need anyone in my life—and I particularly don’t need the added guilt and responsibility of a naive young woman. You are to go back to London tomorrow where you belong and forget about me. That is what I want you to do.’
His cutting tone and the injustice of his words were so insulting that Lydia felt as though she had been slapped. An icy numbness crept over her body, shattering all her tender feelings for him. But it was the way he retained his arrogant superiority that was hard for her to accept. Deeply regretting the impulse to invite him into her bed, she now realised she should have stayed away from him. She felt insulted, but her wounded pride forced her head up.
‘How dare you mock my feelings. What a callous, self-opinionated blackguard you are, Alex Golding. You are right,’ she said with all the dignity she could muster. ‘It is time to return to reality and the sooner the better.’
He arched an eyebrow, his tone one of irony when he spoke. ‘Yes, I am all those things. What did you expect—some infallible being?’
‘No, not that. How excruciatingly ignorant you must find me. Just to set the record straight, I do not expect a proposal or anything else from you. It never entered my head.’
Carrying the Gentleman's Secret Page 6