Duke of Scandal

by Adele Ashworth

  Even as her mind whirled with a million uncertainties, she decided that what they’d shared had been the most painful, and the most wonderful, exciting… glorious experience of her life.

  He was simply amazing. Amazing, giving, gentle, and he’d treated her as if he truly cherished her and her thoughts and feelings. Never had another man treated her like Sam did, especially Edmund.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked without moving, his tone lazy and utterly content.

  She supposed she had to speak to him even if she did feel overwhelmed with embarrassment. Shaking her head, she lowered her hand from her eyes to lay it on the side of the bed. “It’s not important.”

  He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating in his chest, which lay next to hers.

  “Olivia, do you know how many men ask that question while dreaming of that exact response from a woman?”

  That thoroughly confused her. “I don’t understand you.”

  He lifted his head a little so he could look at her, though she kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

  “Most women never stop talking,” he said through a grunt. “All they want to do is explain things.”

  She laughed in spite of wanting to. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No it’s not, and you’re quite aware of it, being an absolutely perfect specimen of the fairer sex.”

  She couldn’t stop grinning, closing her eyes as she decided he not only had a very keen understanding of females, he felt wonderful beside her.

  “So,” he asked again, leaning up on his elbow to gaze down to her face, “what were you thinking?”

  She sighed, lifting her lashes once more to look at him at last, her heart melting from his amused expression, from his tousled hair and gorgeous dark eyes. “What do you think?” she returned softly.

  He shook his head at her obstinance, a sly grin lifting one side of his mouth. “You were thinking what a marvelous lover I am.”

  She gaped at him, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising to her cheeks. “That’s absurd.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, his eyes sparkling with wicked humor. “No it’s not. It’s normal.”

  She stared at him with feigned annoyance. “If you must know, I thought you were perfectly… adequate.”

  He pulled back a little, brows furrowed, looking at her as if she were insane. “Adequate? Adequate?”

  She shrugged lightly. “You obviously think you’re marvelous, so what does my opinion matter?”

  She teased him, of course, and he knew it.

  He slowly shook his head, glancing down her nude form. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to be better the next time.”

  He couldn’t possibly be serious. “Sam,” she started very gravely, her voice taking on a somber note, “we can’t ever do this again. It’s—wrong.”

  To her complete shock, he chuckled, moving his free hand from beneath her breast to trace a trail across her belly, forcing a shiver from her as gooseflesh rose to his touch.

  “Oh, Olivia… I have so many things to teach you, the first of which is to never, ever, ever say that to a man.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “It only makes him desperate, and more determined.”

  She giggled despite her reluctance to appear anything but decisive.

  He grinned, then fell back against the bed, lying flat beside her, staring at the ceiling. “What I’d really like to know is what the hell you were doing outside alone with Edmund.”

  That caught her completely off guard. Sighing, she said, “If I tell you, do you promise never to force me into your bed again?”

  He laughed outright, irritating her a little because he didn’t seem to take their predicament at all seriously.

  He peeked at her sideways. “I swear I’ll never force you into my bed. Now I want details.”

  She sighed, knowing without doubt that he was being sneaky—he didn’t exactly force her today and yet he’d managed to get her unclothed and practically begging for him when it was the last thing on earth she’d intended to do.

  She turned on her side to view him better, resting her head in her palm but keeping her free hand decently between them, partially covering her breasts.

  “He wanted to meet me. He approached me at the party and more or less insisted I be there, at the arbor, at ten.”

  He watched her, his earlier amusement all but gone. “You should have told me.”

  Which really meant, she surmised at once, that he’d been hurt by her lie.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  He groaned in irritation, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think he’d ever hurt you physically, but meeting him alone like that, after just catching him by surprise the night before, was the wrong thing to do, Olivia.”

  That statement, and its implication of tenderness and worry, warmed her to her bones. With a vague smile on her lips, she reached out and ran a finger across his eyebrow. “Were you jealous?” she asked in a sly murmur.

  His eyes narrowed as a trace of amusement crossed his features. “Maybe.”

  She grinned. “Maybe?”

  “He was standing much too close to you.”

  “So you were jealous,” she purred.

  He let out a low growl. “I didn’t like it.”

  Beaming, she replied, “I didn’t either. He smelled like cheap cologne.”

  Sam laughed low in his throat. Then without warning he covered her breast with his palm. “Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say I felt strangely possessive, and very worried that I couldn’t run down and rescue you because that would mean taking my eyes off of you for several minutes. Minutes where anything could happen.”

  His thumb brushed her nipple, arousing it to a hardened nub, and heat flooded her again, rushing through her body. She moved her arm and laid her head on the pillow, facing him, aglow with the wonder of knowing he felt that way about her.

  “What were you feeling, Livi?” he asked quietly, his gaze taking on a quiet intensity.

  She inhaled deeply. “He made me angry, but then I think Edmund enjoys that. He’s never really taken me and what I say very seriously. But I think he was also frightened of the fact that I’m here.”

  “Did he mention your inheritance?”

  She brushed loose strands of hair from her cheek. “He says he’s in love with Brigitte, which I find appalling.”

  His brows rose. “You do?”

  Her features grew somber as she watched him. “Because I don’t think he’s capable of love, Sam. He told me he’s bedded her, which I find… unbelievable.”

  Smirking, he replied, “Why? Maybe she desires him, loves him enough to give herself to him before marriage.”

  The mention of such a complication made her uncomfortable because it hit very close to home. “That just isn’t something properly bred ladies do, Samson,” she remarked, feeling the heat of shame spread across her face.

  He unexpectedly lifted her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her wrist once, then the back of her fingers. “I think it happens more often than you think,” he informed her, his tone low and serious.

  She couldn’t contemplate that now, what his taking her virginity might mean for her future, for their future together, if in fact they were to have one.

  Deciding it best to return to the more immediate subject, she revealed, “He told me he’d give me back the money he stole from me, all of it, if I don’t mention a word of what he did to me, or what I know, to anyone, especially Brigitte.”

  Sam closed his hand around hers and held it against his chest. “That makes sense, especially if he cares about her, or if he wants to swindle her of her inheritance, too.”

  She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “But the thing I don’t understand is how he could get her money, regardless of whether the marriage is real. Her grand-père is the one who controls the wealth, and he’s as strong as an ox.” She turned to him sharply. “Unless…”

  He firmly shook his head. “I
don’t think he’d go so far as to kill someone, Livi. And if we are to assume he could never resort to murder, he’d need to marry her legally then wait for the old man’s death of natural causes. In the meantime, he’d certainly be living comfortably.” He snorted. “That sounds more like Edmund’s style.”

  She ran her fingertips across the coverlet, brows furrowed in thought. “But he knows I can say anything I want, and I’m obviously in Grasse to confront him.”

  “Not if he pays you off,” Sam reminded her. “It seems the money he stole from you is now going to work well with his plans to keep you silent. You need it, and he knows it.”

  That made her just plain mad. “The snake in smelly cologne is using my money to blackmail me. I truly cannot wait to see his face tonight. I might just kill him. Or kick him as hard as I can in the shin.”

  Abruptly, Sam turned his head to look at her, then grasped her around the waist and easily hoisted her on top of his bare, firm… perfect body.

  “What are you doing?” she blurted, attempting to wipe flying hair from her eyes and face.

  “I’m feeling you,” he replied with a wide, pompous grin.

  “Feeling me? Are you insane?”

  “Do you know that the most enchanting thing about you, Livi, is your innocence?”

  That flustered her and she squirmed, struggling to free herself from the positively enticing feel of his hard, masculine form beneath her, though it proved to be an entirely worthless attempt as he held her securely with strong arms. Eventually she gave up trying.

  “I’ve never considered myself innocent, Sam,” she declared sternly. “I take care of myself, I take care of Nivan, I live a respectable life in a modern city—”

  He laughed, and she felt it to her toes.

  “Let me clarify some things for you, sweet,” he said rather mundanely, though clearly still amused. “You married a man you hardly knew, who then easily absconded with your inheritance without your knowledge. You came to me believing I was him without checking your facts. You manage your boutique while someone who works for you tells your aunt your every move—”

  She gasped in disbelief, but he ignored that.

  “You agreed to travel alone with me, a man, again, whom you hardly knew, apparently trusting that my intentions were honorable. You’re shocked to learn Claudette and Edmund are lovers and likely were lovers the entire time you were together. You lie to me about meeting him alone, then actually do so in a secluded garden where you can’t possibly be seen by anyone should a problem arise. And finally, you’re the most stubbornly beautiful, innocent woman, whose lovemaking ability defies description.” He paused, staring into her perfectly stunned eyes. “You didn’t even know it was possible to kiss the bottom of your feet. Shall I go on?”

  Olivia was speechless, never having considered these simple facts about herself and what she’d done while in his company, and it staggered her a little that he’d been so observant, had thought about her in such a light. But when she finally found her voice, the only thing she could think of to say had everything to do with her vanity.

  Coyly, she asked, “You really think I’m beautiful?”

  She expected him to laugh again and tease her, but he surprised her by turning remarkably serious, his gaze probing hers.

  Finally, huskily, he maintained, “I think you’re exquisite—from your body, to your mind, to your little toes, to your laugh, to the perfect way you make love to me. And I will never, ever let you go.”

  His words and meaning, the intensity in his voice, struck her profoundly. She started trembling faintly, her throat too tight to speak, fearful she might break down into tears in front of him. In an instant she leaned over and kissed him with all the passion inside of her, exposing every deep feeling he evoked in her, loving him with every breath and touch.

  It took him only seconds to respond, and when he did, he came alive beneath her, stroking her up and down her spine with his fingertips, returning each kiss with a need unmatched.

  She ran her fingers through his silky hair, felt the flexing muscles of his chest beneath her breasts, the growing hardness of his rekindled desire, which she no longer feared but yearned to feel inside of her again.

  Finally, he turned her over, very slowly, his lips never leaving hers as she once again lay on her back, the soft pillows cushioning her head. He kissed her until the fire lit anew, until her hunger flamed for him, until her breath quickened and her body ached with urgency. She moved her legs involuntarily up and down the length of his, unable to control the tiny whimpers that escaped her when his hand found her breasts and began teasing her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and thumb. And then he broke away from her mouth to kiss a line of fire down her throat, her chest, and the side of each breast before taking one into his mouth to gently suck and kiss and caress.

  Olivia thought she might die of pure pleasure, wanting him more with each gentle touch, each stroke of his hand.

  At long last he released her and moved up again so he faced her. “I want to make love to you again, Olivia.”

  She actually grinned, slowly opening her eyes to the starkness of his gaze. “I give you permission, you silly man,” she purred in a breathless whisper. “You don’t even have to force me.”

  He smiled in return as she traced the lines and planes of his handsome face with her fingers, ran the pad of her thumb across his lips until he kissed it lightly.

  Gruffly he added, “But you’ll be sore from the first time, so we’re going to do it another way.”

  Aching for him madly, her body afire, skin burning from his touch, she couldn’t be certain if she heard him correctly. “There’s—” She gasped as he placed his hand between her legs. “There’s another way?”

  He groaned, taking her mouth again, his tongue flicking across her lips before he whispered against them, “My sweet, innocent Olivia…”

  Then without warning he released her lips and moved swiftly toward the foot of the bed, quickly placing his head where only a moment ago his hand had been.

  Olivia kept her eyes locked with his, then jumped, startled, when he lifted her knees and began to run his tongue up and down the soft, moist folds hidden inside her intimate curls.

  Her shock was short-lived, for in seconds he had her reeling from the sumptuous, forbidden touch, stroking her up and down until he found her hidden nub of pleasure. Then he quickened his pace and changed it, concentrating on the center of her desire, rotating his tongue, stroking her back and forth, faster and harder until she relaxed and closed her eyes, giving in to the moment.

  She could feel herself nearing her crest almost at once as she began to move her hips up and down to match his steady, focused rhythm. She moaned softly, her hands on his head, fingers in his hair, visualizing his mouth on her, his tongue inside of her, his erection long and hard and ready to claim her.

  “Sam…” she breathed, searching for the moment of release, meeting each flick of his tongue with a lift of her lips as the tension within her coiled ever tighter.

  “Sam—oh God, Sam…”

  He reached up and grasped her hands, interlocking their fingers the moment she reached her peak.

  She cried out, squeezing his hands, rocking her hips into him as she gave herself over to the intense pleasure, moaning his name, her eyes tightly shut as wave after wave passed through her.

  As soon as he felt her movements start to slow, he quickly raised his body and angled it above her, supporting himself with one hand beside her head, gazing down to her face, into her eyes, as he positioned his erection beneath her moist folds. But he didn’t enter her. Instead, he began to rock his own hips, very slightly, allowing just the tip of him to brush against her sensitive nub.

  Olivia gasped from the sharpness of the sensation, opening her eyes to look at him, to watch him, to discover the joy in seeing him climax.

  He held his body up above hers on one palm, his arm flexed tightly from the weight, his chest and shoulders tense with effor
t. With the other hand he held the base of his erection to guide him as he stroked her up and down, at first very slowly, then increasing his pace as he neared his release.

  Olivia had never imagined anything so erotic in her life. She stared, mesmerized, wishing desperately for him to enter her, filling her within as he had earlier, but finding this ever more intoxicating, stimulating.

  He groaned low in his chest, the muscles in his face flexed as he tightened his jaw, his breathing coming in rasps as he closed his eyes to the sensations.

  And then, unexpectedly, something wound up inside of her and she felt the sudden building of pleasure once more, quickly this time, taking her to the edge of satisfaction within seconds.

  She moaned, and he raised his lids to look at her again, a trace of surprise crossing his features as he watched her.

  “Oh God, Livi, come for me again. Come for me, sweetheart.”

  His voice sounded pained, intense, as he moved himself faster and harder against her.

  She reached up and touched his face. And then with a low moan she called out his name in a whisper as he pushed her over the edge for a second time. She whimpered, basking in the delicious brilliance of each pulsing wave of pleasure, made perfect by knowing she was taking him with her.

  “Oh God,” he breathed. “Oh God. Olivia…”

  And then he grunted as his powerful body jerked against her from the sudden rush of intense pleasure, as he rubbed himself against her cleft, his eyes shut, jaw clenched, his head arched back while he moaned and accepted everything she gave.

  At last he gradually slowed his movements, then lowered his body beside hers, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

  Olivia felt her breathing slow as she relaxed, relishing the feel of him beside her, listening to the steady beating of his heart beneath her cheek.

  What she’d experienced with him, because of him, this day, would be etched in her memory forever. This marvelous man made the world more colorful, her life worth living for every wonderful reason.