When Only a Rake Will Do

by Jennifer McNare

  “There’s another, smaller pool just ahead,” Brendon told her. “But this one is far more suited for bathing.”

  Promptly kicking off her shoes and stockings, Daphne stepped gingerly onto one of the flat stones that edged the pool and dipped her toes into the water. “Oh, it’s so warm,” she exclaimed gleefully, lifting her skirt and dipping her foot further into the pool.

  “And far more enjoyable than the baths one takes at home,” Brendon asserted, “for the pool is much larger than a bathing tub and since the water never cools you can linger for as long as you like,” he continued. “And you needn’t worry that someone will inadvertently stumble upon us, for I own this piece of land as well as all of the surrounding property.”

  Nevertheless, glancing about, Daphne was relieved to see that the pool was indeed quite secluded and reasonably secure from prying eyes should anyone be walking along the trail.

  “Shall we?” Brendon asked with an encouraging smile as he tossed the small leather satchel he carried onto the rocks and then reached to pull his shirt from his breeches.

  Nodding, Daphne pulled her foot from the water and reached for the laces on the front of her gown. Stripping down to her chemise, she hesitated for only a moment before pulling the garment over her head and dropping it to the ground. Tempted for a moment to use her hands to shield portions of her body, she resisted the urge, determinedly casting the last of her inhibitions aside as she embraced her nudity as well as her newfound confidence. It was an amazing feeling and wonderfully liberating.

  Quickly shedding his clothing, Brendon stepped down onto the natural ledge and into the warm water. The pool was deeper than one might imagine, covering him to his waist as he turned to assist Daphne. Momentarily spellbound by the sight of her standing proud and unashamed before him, every lush curve and delicate line of her body revealed to him in exquisite detail beneath the blazing sun, he was once again astonished by her remarkable beauty. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he said quietly, almost reverently as he gazed upon her.

  Daphne stood motionless for a moment, held captive by the sudden intensity reflected in Brendon’s eyes. When he looked at her like that he made her feel beautiful, in every sense of the word. “You make me feel beautiful,” she said quietly, voicing the thought aloud.

  Brendon smiled softly. “Come, take my hand,” he said, reaching for her.

  Grasping his outstretched hand, Daphne stepped down onto the ledge and into the pool, smiling in pure delight as the warm water surrounded her, reaching just above her midsection. “Oh, it feels heavenly,” she exclaimed as she bent her knees, sinking deeper into the water. She submerged herself then, allowing the water to close over the top of her head, wetting her face and hair before rising back up.

  Brendon grinned as he watched Daphne’s features light up with pure exultation as she rose from the water, smiling as if she’d been given the most priceless gift. Her artless reaction, so different from the sophisticated smiles and practiced behaviors he’d grown accustomed to from the women of his acquaintance, was utterly enchanting and unbelievably heartwarming to behold. “You look like a nymph rising from the sea,” he said, as her long blonde tresses fell wet against her back, the ends floating atop the water as wisps of steam wafted around her.

  She felt like a nymph, naked and unabashed as she stood in the pool of steamy water, surrounded by an ethereal haze that enveloped them within its midst. It made her bold. She moved toward him, smiling as she placed her wet hands against his chest, running them upward to twine around his neck. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, her breasts pressing against his heated chest as she leaned into him.

  “You’re most welcome,” he replied, dipping his head to place a kiss upon her sweet lips.

  Feeling his member grow long and hard against her pelvis, Daphne rotated her hips, moving against him in an unmistakable invitation as she curled her fingers into his hair. Suddenly she wanted him to make love to her again more than anything, here in this magical place.

  Brendon groaned, wanting nothing more at that moment than to accept her unspoken offer, but he hesitated nonetheless. “Daphne, I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, drawing back to study her face.

  She regarded him in confusion. “Hurt me?”

  “Are you not sore?” he asked gently.

  “Oh,” she said, as understanding dawned. She had been a little sore upon waking, but only a little and it had long-since subsided. Now she felt only hot-blooded desire coursing through her veins. Besides, their time together was woefully limited and she didn’t want to waste a single moment of it. She shook her head. “I’m fine, Brendon, truly.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She felt her heart melt, for he was so sweet, so genuinely kind and considerate that it made her want him all the more. “I’m sure.”

  With their eyes locked, Brendon grasped Daphne’s hips and settled her above him, and then ever so slowly he lowered her onto his pulsating shaft so that she could feel every inch of his long, hard length as it gently impaled her. She moaned softly, her eyes widening, reflecting her carnal gratification as her body opened to him, her inner walls stretching and expanding to accommodate him as she took the full length of him into her tight sheath.

  Tightening his grasp on her hips, Brendon braced his feet against the bottom of the pool as he lifted her up and then lowered her back down, up and then down, over and over as her breasts with their peaked nipples rubbed deliciously against his chest with each and every movement.

  Daphne’s head fell back, her legs tightening around Brendon’s flanks, the water rippling out around them in ever-widening circles as he guided them into a blissful rhythm. She clung to him, savoring each and every thrust of his hips as he set her body afire once again. She cried out when she found her release, her head falling onto Brendon’s shoulder, her face buried in the curve of his neck as she tightened and convulsed around him.

  Brendon surged upward one last time before pulling out of her quivering depths, careful to spill his seed outside of her body as he reached his own powerful climax.

  Once they’d recovered themselves and their ragged breathing had finally returned to normal, Brendon fetched the small cake of soap from the leather satchel he’d brought along and for the next quarter hour they busied themselves with the pleasant task of soaping and washing one another from head to toe. Then, as their skin began to wrinkle and prune, they finally left the water, drying off and donning their clothing once again before leaving their private haven and heading back to the cottage.

  After a late luncheon, Brendon and Daphne spent the better part of the afternoon lazing about, playing cards and backgammon and for much of the time simply talking, content to save their remaining energy for the night ahead.

  *****

  When Daphne awoke the following morning, the room was awash in sunlight, allowing her an unhindered view of the man lying next to her. He was sprawled out upon his stomach, one arm bent above his head and the other resting at his side while the sheets, wrapped in a tangled coil around his legs, left his muscled back and taut buttocks exposed to her appreciative gaze.

  Turning onto her side, her eyes swept unabashedly along the lines of his body, her fingers itching to reach out and trace the contours of his spine and the tantalizing curve of his derrière. But hesitant to wake him, for dawn had only just broken, she contented herself with simply admiring the beauty of his splendid masculine form.

  Lying there, her thoughts drifted to the evening before, causing a small satisfied smile to tilt the corners of her lips. Like he had the night before, Brendon had led her into the rear garden shortly after darkness had fallen to watch the stars. But this time he’d surprised her, for spread atop the soft grass had been a thick pile of blankets and resting beside them a bottle of champagne, two crystal flutes and a bowl of freshly cut strawberries. They’d drunk the champagne and fed each other strawberries, talking and laughing as they watched for shooting stars, mak
ing wishes upon each and every one. Then, once they’d had their fill, they had made love beneath the star-filled sky, slowly, tenderly and ever so sweetly.

  After a time he’d wrapped her up in the blankets and carried her back inside the cottage, returning to the bedchamber where, conscious of their limited time together, they had made love long into the night until they had finally collapsed upon the sheets, exhausted and thoroughly satiated.

  Even so, just looking at the man lying next to her stirred the now familiar throbbing between her thighs and awakened once again that desperate ache that longed to be assuaged. Oh how foolish she was to have imagined that an entire weekend with Brendon was such an extraordinary amount of time, for she realized now that it was only the briefest of intervals. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. She wanted more, so much more. She wanted an eternity.

  With tears welling up in her eyes, Daphne studied Brendon’s face, committing each and every detail to memory so that she would never forget how he looked at that exact moment in time, for all too soon her memories would be all that she had. It was a painful realization, and far more devastating than she could have ever imagined.

  When Brendon stirred a short while later he opened his eyes to find Daphne lying on her side next to him, watching him, a gentle smile playing upon her lips.

  “How long have you been awake?” he murmured sleepily, already reaching for her as he struggled to awaken fully.

  “Not long,” Daphne lied, snuggling into him and inhaling his clean masculine scent as he pulled her close. Resting her check against his chest, she listened to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear, committing the steady cadence to memory.

  “Are you hungry?” Brendon asked as his fingers moved to trail lightly up and down her back.

  “Not for food,” Daphne replied boldly, her voice a husky whisper, her meaning unmistakable.

  Those three simple words were all it took to clear the last of the sleep-induced fog from Brendon’s head. Fully awake now, he emitted a low contented growl from deep within his throat as he rolled Daphne onto her back and settled between her thighs.

  Their final bout of love-making was both fiercely passionate and achingly tender at the same time, for each of them was abundantly aware that their time together was coming to an end, growing ever more fleeting with each and every tick of the clock. They were saying their goodbyes, not with words, but with their bodies.

  Chapter 10

  In the days following her return to London, Daphne did her best to accept the fate that awaited her but it wasn’t easy, for her days at Rose Cottage had shown her exactly what she would be missing, not just what her body would be missing but what her heart would be missing too. She should have known better, she should have known that she wouldn’t be able to walk away unscathed, with nothing more than pleasant memories. What a fool she was, for in that brief span of time she had fallen in love with Brendon Leighton, madly, deeply, passionately and irrevocably in love. And now, now she had to live with the crushing pain of a loss so intense and so utterly heart-wrenching that it was nearly impossible to bear. But she would have to bear it; she would have to bear it for the rest of her life. And sadly she had no one to blame but herself.

  She tried to move on, to stay busy, to divert her thoughts of Brendon and their time together anyway that she could, accepting invitations to the opera and to the theater from her would be suitors, in addition to the customary balls, routes, dinner parties and the like. But even so she could only avert the pain for so long, sometimes minutes, sometimes mere seconds and then the desperate longing would reappear, devastating in its intensity. And so was the ache in her heart, at times so profoundly gut wrenching that it nearly sent her to her knees.

  The nights were by far the hardest, however. Lying in her bed, alone in the darkness of her bedchamber, it was impossible to escape the memories. They flooded her thoughts, replaying themselves over and over in her head, both wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time, until eventually she would fall into a restless sleep, her body succumbing to sheer exhaustion.

  Following Brendon’s return to the city, he made a conscious effort to resume the life he’d led before Daphne Hewitt had entered into it, but it proved far more difficult than he could have ever imagined. Though he hadn’t seen her since returning to London, he thought about her each and every day, far more often than he cared to admit. Even so, the nighttime hours were the worst, for she invaded his dreams night after night, his damnable subconscious replaying their days at Rose Cottage time and again within his mind and then leaving him with an intangible sense of loss upon waking each morning. No woman had ever made him feel like that before and it was both utterly confounding and exceedingly vexing.

  It was to have been a weekend, that’s all, he thought to himself on more than one occasion. He’d given her what she’d asked for; he’d introduced her to desire and to passion. In turn, he should have finally been able to quench, or at the very least temper, the intense, hot-blooded desire he’d felt for the ravishing beauty since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. So why hadn’t he then? Why did she still consume his thoughts? Why did he still want her with that same burning intensity?

  No, it wasn’t the same, it was even more powerful than before he acknowledged ruefully. But in truth, it was more than just physical desire. He missed her smile, her laughter, the pleasing sound of her voice, the way her eyes reflected her emotions and even the way she moved. He missed their talks, their discussions about history, art, literature and so many other things. He missed her fascination with the stars, her infectious love of nature and the unaffected enjoyment she derived from the simplest of pleasures. He missed her, dammit! It was entirely unexpected, maddening as hell and a great deal more than he’d bargained for.

  As a result, his days and nights quickly fell into a lamentable pattern as he tried to drive her from his thoughts. Frequenting the clubs became a nightly ritual as he strictly avoided any event where Daphne might be in attendance. Instead, he drank and played cards well into the wee hours of the morning, often stumbling from his carriage at the break of dawn to fall wearily into his bed, praying that he’d consumed enough alcohol throughout the night to keep the dreams at bay. Then, rousing himself from his bed hours later, he promptly set about repeating the events of the night before.

  He’d considered seeking out the company of a woman, of course, and on more than one occasion, thinking that might be what he needed to ultimately push the enchanting Lady Daphne from his mind. But much to his chagrin, he never seemed quite able to summon the necessary motivation. And so he contented himself with drink, cards and the companionship of his male peers, all of which left him feeling decidedly discontented and woefully unsatisfied.

  It wasn’t until another week had passed that Brendon finally broke from the desolate routine he’d established. In an effort to curb his perpetual slide into utter dissoluteness, he forced himself from his bed at a decent hour, ate a fortifying breakfast, had his curricle made ready and then proceeded directly to his brother’s home. He needed to clear his head, if even for a short while, and he knew exactly how to accomplish the task.

  Less than thirty minutes later he stood in Nicholas and Ashleigh’s front parlor, waiting patiently as his sister-in-law went upstairs to fetch her young son. Fortunately he didn’t have to wait long.

  “Uncle Brendon!”

  He turned, grinning as his three-year-old nephew, Justin, burst through the doorway and hurtled toward him.

  “Whoa, slow down there scamp,” Brendon cautioned playfully as he bent down and scooped the boy up into his arms, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

  Justin immediately burst into giggles as he hung suspended over his uncle’s shoulder.

  Entering the room a few steps behind her son, Ashleigh smiled at the sight before her.

  “Mama, look at me,” Justin squealed gleefully from his upside down position.

  “I see you,” she replied, her expressio
n full of mirth as her son swung his arms wildly about, grinning like an imp.

  “Alright, down you go, young man,” Brendon said a moment later as he grasped Justin around the waist and then set him back onto his feet.

  “Mama said that you are taking me to the zoo,” Justin proclaimed, his expression animated as his mother reached forward to smooth his raven-colored curls.

  “Would you like that?”

  “Oh yes,” he replied, bouncing up and down on his heels.

  “Then to the zoo it is.”

  Justin beamed. “Will there be lions?”

  “Most assuredly.”

  “And tigers?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “Elephants too?”

  “I imagine so.”

  “Yippee,” Justin exclaimed, his smile radiant as he clapped his hands excitedly.

  “Dearest, will you run and fetch your hat from Miss Hastings before you go, I think we must have left it upstairs,” Ashleigh said.

  Justin scrunched up his nose. “Must I?”

  “Yes, you must,” his mother replied in a gentle, but firm tone. “Now off you go,” she continued, steering him toward the doorway.

  Justin cast one quick look at Brendon over his shoulder and then dashed from the room.

  “I haven’t seen him this excited since…well… since I don’t know when,” Ashleigh said with a laugh, smiling warmly as she turned back to Brendon. “Thank you for offering to take him.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Brendon replied with a grin. “You know I love spending time with my nephew, though you and Nicholas are certainly welcome to accompany us if you’d like.”