My Fair Lover

by Nicole Jordan

  “So I did. But I want to kiss you, badly. I want to taste you and savor you and arouse you….”

  Again he moved his thigh against her mound, sending a shock of fire rippling through her. Her eyes still shut, Kate tightened her fingers on his shoulders, her breath stuck somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

  “But I don’t need to even touch you,” Deverill continued in a softer voice, “to know what I would find. I can imagine parting your thighs, finding your mound with my fingers, stroking your slick cleft….”

  The vivid picture he painted contributed to the sweet eroticism of his voice, while the friction he created incited a burning desire to press harder against his sinewed thigh. With an involuntary whimper, Kate began to move her hips, riding his flesh, relishing the play of musculature against the very center of her.

  As if understanding her need, he reached down to grasp her buttocks, aiding her in finding a rhythm. Excitement melded with yearning inside Kate. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she hid her face in his neck, panting at the incredible sensations coursing through her body.

  Deverill’s husky voice came to her through a fevered haze. “I can imagine how wet you are for me, how hot.”

  She thrust herself more urgently against his thigh, her pelvis undulating, her breath rasping.

  “Easy, love. Go slowly….The better to draw out our pleasure.”

  Slowly? What he asked was impossible. Her body was moving of its own urgent volition while he continued whispering against her ear.

  “Just let yourself enjoy, Kate. Let me free you of all that rigid control.”

  But her resistance was instinctive. “I don’t want…I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. Use your imagination. Picture me thrusting between your thighs…moving with you, loving your incredible body….”

  She could easily imagine her most potent fantasy come to life: Deverill making love to her, loving her…joining with her in perfect union.

  Her eyes shut, Kate arched against him as the spiraling pleasure built relentlessly. “What…is happening to me? The heat…”

  “I know, angel. Don’t fight it. Just surrender.”

  She didn’t want to fight it. She had no power over her body any longer, no power over the coiling tension.

  Sensation swelled inside her, unbearably sweet. She rocked back and forth, her muscles clenching, her limbs tightening. This is how a lightning storm feels was her last coherent thought before heat and need exploded through her, so intense her lungs seized. Her keening cry muffled against his coat, she collapsed against Deverill weakly and buried her face in his shoulder as rippling shivers racked her.

  For a long while, he said nothing, nor did she. She couldn’t speak. Her breath was gone, her throat dry. She felt dazed, shaken, while her body thrummed with sensual pleasure.

  Secure in his embrace, Kate was grateful for the time to cool her overheated senses and reclaim her wits. She didn’t want to move. In truth, she didn’t want anything to disturb the wonder of this moment.

  At length, though, Deverill reached up to stroke a wayward tress from her forehead. “That was your first climax, wasn’t it,” he murmured, a statement, not a question. “You are still a virgin.”

  Kate kept her face hidden as embarrassment flooded her. Somehow he knew she had been fibbing. “How did you know?”

  “Your startlement, for one thing. And you taste like innocence when you kiss. I thought you said you had known lovers before.”

  “I might have exaggerated a tiny bit.”

  His soft chuckle of disbelief made Kate lift her head to glare at him.

  He traced a fingertip over her cheekbone, studying her with intent dark eyes. “Why did you claim otherwise?”

  She ducked her head again, her cheeks flaming. “You are so experienced, I didn’t want you thinking me a complete novice at passion. I do have my pride.”

  “Ah, darling Kate,” she heard him say with a murmur of laughter. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “I knew you would tease me mercilessly,” she muttered.

  “No, no, this is not teasing. I am exceedingly glad you are inexperienced.” His tone was tender and amused. “Indeed, I am honored you chose me to educate you. It makes a man feel more manly to think he can give his woman pleasure.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “I have no doubt you can succeed on that score. But I am not your woman and never will be.”

  Not answering, he lifted her up to resettle her on his lap and gathered her in his arms. Kate couldn’t summon the will to resist. Instead, she laid her cheek against the fine wool of his coat, the pleasure lingering despite his amusement at her expense.

  “You’re incredibly responsive,” Deverill added in a thoughtful tone. “I expected nothing less. That is a high compliment, by the way. I am taking your tutoring to heart.”

  He intended to use her own advice against her? Kate was about to protest when Deverill spoke again in a low voice. “You had no need to pretend experience with me.”

  Yes, she had. Her prevarication had seemed justified at the time. How did a woman explain her insecurities to a man, especially one as virile and masculine as Deverill? If she’d thought he hadn’t wanted her six years ago, how could he want her now that she was older and practically on the shelf?

  While she debated her reply, Deverill nodded to himself. “It makes sense now. Frankly I was amazed to think your brother would allow you to take a lover.”

  “Allow?” Kate repeated. “Ash has no say in the matter. I am no longer a child and his responsibility.”

  “Good. Then you can make your own decisions.”

  Pulling away, she raised her gaze to his. “What do you mean, ‘good’?”

  “I want to be your first lover.”

  The bold statement sent a thrill through Kate. She wanted that, too, so very badly.

  “If you are so independent, you can choose for yourself.”

  Staring back at him, Kate felt a confusing mix of regret and desire. His offer was incredibly tempting. She wanted Deverill intensely…and yet not at the price she would have to pay. He might be interested in seducing her with his body, but his heart wasn’t engaged and never would be.

  “I won’t be taking you or anyone else for my lover. I intend to save myself for my husband.”

  “Six years ago you were prepared to give yourself to me.”

  “I was mistaken.”

  With a faint smile, Deverill drew her head back down to his shoulder. “Perhaps it was best that I didn’t make love to you then. Your brother would have shot me out of hand for taking advantage of you. At least now I won’t have to deal with him coming after me with murder in his heart.”

  “He will have no reason to come after you. We won’t become lovers.”

  She felt Deverill’s lips press tenderly against her hair. “Why shouldn’t you enjoy pleasure like a man can?”

  At the absurd question, Kate’s mouth curled. It was a long-held complaint of hers also, but there was an obvious answer. “You well know that an unmarried young lady cannot take lovers.”

  “Who says?”

  “Society’s rules.”

  “Rules can be circumvented. You weren’t meant for spinsterhood. You are far too passionate to languish on the shelf. Too full of life. You need a man who can satisfy that craving in you. Admit it, you’ve lost your sense of wonder and adventure.”

  When she was silent, he bent closer to kiss her temple, then shifted across her face…her eyelids, her nose, her cheekbone, her throat. The feather touch of his lips on her throat held a tantalizing sensuality.

  “I can teach you to be a woman, Kate, not just a society princess. Think of it. I could set you free.”

  She did think of it. The freedom to do as she pleased. The chance to enjoy pleasure as a man could, unshackled by the chains that society placed on women. Deverill could indeed set her free.

  He had always treated her as an equal, not as an heiress, not as a weakling or s
ome lesser creature, either. He made her feel like a person rather than a delicate object to be set on a pedestal and adored. He even appreciated her high spirits and never censured her sometimes tart tongue and rash temper. But there were so many things she wasn’t allowed to do because of her gender and breeding.

  “All that fire, all that bottled-up passion,” he whispered, his mouth moving back to her face.

  At his seductive accolade, Kate felt the spellbinding daze overcome her again. His lips were so arousing. The scalding heat of his touch made her forget how to breathe. She couldn’t bear for him to stop.

  Hang the man. This was precisely what he intended.

  Her breath shamefully uneven, Kate extricated herself from Deverill’s embrace and slid off his lap. Drawing the lapels of her cloak together, she glanced out the folly door at the garden. “The rain has stopped. We should return to the house. And before you accuse me of running away, I am not. I have considered your offer and choose to decline.”

  “A pity,” Deverill said with an exaggerated sigh. Rising from the bench, he followed her to the doorway. “I trust I can eventually change your mind. Fortunately, I can be patient. As difficult as it will be, I will wait until you invite me to make love to you.”

  Looking up, Kate met his gaze. “You will have a long wait.”

  “We shall see.”

  The promise in his declaration unnerved her, as did the unabashed desire in his eyes.

  That settled it, Kate decided as she plunged into the garden where the damp air felt cool on her flushed face. No more meetings alone with Deverill. Never, ever. Her pitifully weak willpower simply couldn’t withstand it.

  Kate woke the next morning feeling hot and achy and frustrated. Why the devil did she keep having such erotic dreams of Deverill?

  A foolish question, obviously, considering the intimacies between them yesterday, the brazen liberties he had taken with her. She finally understood why carnal passion had such a powerful effect on lovers throughout the ages. There really was nothing quite like it—the spiraling heat, the starbursts exploding inside her body—and that was only a fraction of the pleasure Deverill promised. She had a great deal to learn about lovemaking and wished he could be the one to teach her.

  Another singularly witless sentiment to add to the many others that have plagued you of late.

  Giving a disgusted sigh, Kate tried to suppress both memory and fantasy as she rose from her bed and dressed. With a burst of fresh resolve, she went to work arranging for Deverill to meet Daphne Farnwell at the earliest opportunity, which, she learned to her disappointment, would not be for two more days since Daphne had prior obligations.

  Meanwhile, Kate renewed her vow to avoid any private moments with him. She didn’t trust herself to be alone with the man, nor did she trust him not to take advantage of her profound weakness for him.

  Her plan, however, got off to an inauspicious start that evening when the Beaufort carriage collected Deverill for a musical performance at the King’s Theatre. Upon entering the barouche, he took the seat beside her, close enough that his thigh brushed hers, reminding her how effectively he had used his thigh in the folly. Kate felt a flush of heat rise inside her. After returning his greeting, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and hoped the relative dimness of the interior hid her blush.

  There were other moments in the course of the evening when she also felt a heightened awareness of Deverill: Upon arriving, when he removed her cloak and his fingers grazed her bare shoulders. When his gaze lingered on her during the splendid violin concerto, and again as a famous opera singer entertained the company with her remarkable soprano. At the first intermission when Deverill took her hand to help her rise from her seat.

  Yet she single-mindedly kept her focus on her task.

  During the intermission, she introduced him to one more candidate on her list, Miss Eliza Rowe. Kate was especially glad that conversing with the young lady kept him occupied and away from Lady Dalton, who, unhappily for Kate, was in attendance. When she spied the beautiful widow across the room, her jaw firmed with fresh determination.

  As soon as she could politely extract Deverill from the discussion, she deliberately steered him in the opposite direction, which made his eyebrow lift in question. “Why such haste to return to our seats?”

  “Lady X, if you must know. She is eyeing you like the cat after the canary. I don’t want her sinking her claws into you. You can do much better.”

  To change the subject, Kate added, “That reminds me….Our next engagement will be tomorrow afternoon at a garden party in Richmond. And the following evening, some family friends, Lord and Lady Perry, are holding a ball at their home. I particularly wish you to meet a newer friend of mine there.”

  For the remainder of the musical evening, Kate was rather proud of her composure whenever she was near Deverill, yet she was eager to have him woo Daphne and take the responsibility for his courtship out of her hands.

  As luck would have it, though, another unpleasant encounter with Julia Dalton threatened her hard-won equanimity. During the second intermission, they happened to meet in the ladies’ retiring room. When the widow voiced a snide remark under her breath about keeping Valmere on a short leash, Kate had had enough.

  Grasping her rival’s wrist, she led a startled Lady Dalton from the room and down the corridor, past milling theater patrons to a dim corner where they could be somewhat private.

  Kate kept her voice hushed while throwing down the gauntlet. “I regret depressing your aspirations, Lady X, but Valmere will never fall for your wiles. I will make certain of it.”

  The look the widow returned was both amused and smug. “If I chose to pursue him, you could not stop me.”

  “Would you care to test your theory?”

  “Indeed I would—and I shall do so at my first opportunity. I hear Valmere will be attending the Radcliffe garden party in Richmond tomorrow.”

  Kate could barely stop her lip from curling in disgust. “You are keeping a close eye on his social engagements, I see.”

  Lady Dalton smiled wickedly. “It is only shrewd. I will have my chance then, unless you are prepared to stand guard over him the entire time.”

  They eyed each other sharply before Kate realized she was getting nowhere. Would she do better to offer a truce of sorts?

  She held up a hand. “Rather than quarrel with you, I would be shrewd to appeal to your sense of decency. Your current protector deserves your loyalty,” Kate pointed out, referring to Mr. Edmund Lisle, who had supported Julia for the better part of two years. “From what I hear, Lisle adores you.”

  “Of course he does.”

  “Then instead of chasing after Valmere, perhaps you should be content with a bird in hand.”

  Lady Dalton’s haughty look of disdain returned. “My affairs are none of your concern.”

  Kate’s spine stiffened. “You made it my concern when you threatened the happiness of my family and friends. You well know that your treatment of my cousin Quinn was appalling, and now you want to add Valmere to your callous list of conquests. Moreover, you owe Lisle. You have spent years trading your beauty and sensual talents for his patronage.”

  “At least I have sensual talents, which is more than you can boast.”

  The cutting accusation stung, but Kate returned a cold smile. “I have no idea why Lisle fancies you so ardently, given your character. I should think that even among Cyprians there is a code of honor. Apparently you know nothing about honor, however—deceiving the gentleman who is keeping you in funds and providing for your luxurious lifestyle. Indiscretions are one thing, but a liaison with Valmere would be an outright betrayal.”

  Kate could tell she had struck a nerve when Lady Dalton winced and drew herself up to her full height. “I do not require lectures from you, Lady Katharine. Now, pray, excuse me….”

  It was the widow’s turn to stalk off, leaving Kate marginally satisfied. She disliked lowering herself to Julia Dalton’s level, but it fe
lt good to act instead of calmly accepting the insults that witch dished out.

  Their little scene had attracted an avid audience, Kate realized, glancing around to see a dozen curious stares. The gossipmongers, too, would view their spat with glee—a Wilde causing yet another public spectacle. Yet she refused to tolerate Julia Dalton’s scheming. On the contrary, she intended to shut down the beautiful widow’s pursuit of Deverill before it bore any fruit whatsoever.

  —

  To that end, Kate used her powerful connections to arrange an invitation to the garden party in Richmond for Edmund Lisle—and hoped he would be intrigued enough to attend an exclusive social event at an elegant country estate on the River Thames. It was not underhanded to use Lady Dalton’s protector to keep her in check, Kate believed. Merely a necessary step to save Deverill.

  The next afternoon at the party, there were no more new bridal candidates for him to meet, but the grasping Miss Armitage was there and was clearly intent on pursuing him, a circumstance Deverill did not appear to relish.

  Lady Dalton was present as well—and very quickly attempted to sink her claws into him.

  Regrettably, Kate was waylaid indoors by an acquaintance while the scheming widow followed Deverill out onto the rear terrace, which overlooked the beautiful gardens and river. By the time Kate broke free, Julia was hanging on his arm, fluttering her eyelashes, flashing him beguiling looks interspersed with little trills of laughter.

  Much to Kate’s relief, however, Lisle stepped through the terrace doors just then.

  Edmund Lisle boasted a rather stocky figure but had handsome features, despite his thinning brown hair. Additionally, he was fairly wealthy, a prosperity he’d successfully augmented as an amateur gamester. To Kate’s mind, he didn’t deserve the various humiliations his mistress had dealt him, even if he and Quinn had once been enemies.

  Lisle came to a dead stop upon spying Lady X. Clearly he was experienced enough to comprehend her aim in a single glance. But when she suddenly caught sight of him, Julia abruptly abandoned Deverill, as if scalded, and hurried over to Lisle. After an inaudible exchange of words, some clearly harsh and angry, Lisle turned away, making for the terrace doors.