Shana Galen

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by When Dashing Met Danger


  “I brought it with me to show you.” She held the reticule aloft, a flimsy shield.

  Alex pulled the shirt over his head then tossed it on the floor. Lucia inhaled sharply. She’d seen her brother without his shirt many times, but Alex had muscles in places she’d never even imagined. The hard planes of his chest gleamed in the candlelight. The flat expanse of his belly rippled as he moved. Her head spun, and she grasped the doorjamb for support.

  Alex gave her a cursory glance. “Leave whatever it is on my desk in the library on your way back out the window. I’ll look at it in the morning, if I have a moment.” He reached for his pants.

  “Wait!” she squeaked. “Don’t you want to see it now?”

  “No.” His hands were on the waistband of his trousers, and it seemed an eon before Lucia could force her feet into motion. Her legs felt heavy and leaden as she crossed the room. Reaching him, she grasped his wrists, holding them in her hands.

  “Alex, please, you have to listen to me.”

  He arched a brow, but made no move to pull away.

  “I know you’re angry, but I wouldn’t have come if this wasn’t important.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she felt him tense. “Your definition of importance, madam, and my own differ somewhat.”

  Lord, it was difficult to think with him so close to her—bare-chested and fairly pulsing with heat. He was like a raging furnace, but despite the danger, she was drawn closer. “This time I think you’ll agree.” With a will of iron, she released him and held up her reticule. “I have the paper here.” She reached inside and, with trembling fingers, withdrew the paper.

  He took it from her, read it, then turned away and read it again, swearing as he did so.

  Lucia smiled. “I told you.”

  “Hodges!” he called, going to the door. “Hodges!”

  Lucia shrunk back. Lord, all she needed right now was for one of his servants to see her.

  “Hodges, fetch Dewhurst. Try Brooks’s and White’s, then his town house. Failing that—” He glanced at Lucia, his body in the doorway blocking the servant’s view of her. “Where is everyone tonight?”

  “The Earl of Hertford is hosting a ball.”

  Alex turned back to the servant. “If Dewhurst isn’t at home, try the ball.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Lucia heard the servant walk away, and Alex shut the door and turned back to her. She stared at the closed door, but managed to squeak a few words from her tight throat. “Why did you send for Lord Dewhurst? Will he understand the note?”

  Alex glanced at the paper. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

  “What?” She stared at him.

  “There were a hundred other ways to get me this message.” He held up the paper. “None involve you coming here in the middle of the night. I can only assume you want me dead. You want Dandridge to kill me.”

  “No, I don’t. He doesn’t even know I’m here. How could he know?”

  “He knows something is going on between us.” He gave her a penetrating look.

  “There’s nothing going on,” she said mechanically. But it was a lie, and she knew it.

  Alex blinked. “It’s midnight, I’m half dressed, and you’re in my bedroom.”

  “I told you to stop undressing!”

  “And I told you to stay put.” He grasped her arms at the elbow; the feel of his warm hands on her sent shivers of pleasure careening through her body.

  “And I would have, but—”

  “No buts, Lucia. For once, can’t you do as you’re told?”

  She jerked away. “Do as I’m told? Do as I’m told!” she screamed, flinging her arms out. “All my life I’ve done as I was told. Wear this dress, Lucia. Eat this food, Lucia. Dance with these partners, Lucia. Marry this man, Lucia.”

  “You don’t have to marry him.” He leaned against the bedpost. “You made that choice.”

  “What choice? Should I call off the engagement and cause a scandal? Hurt my family?” She was pacing now, her slippered feet making shushing sounds on the Turkey carpet. “Oh, that’s a jolly good idea! Not to mention, if I cry off now Reginald will be so angry and jealous, he’ll no doubt drag your name into it.” She spun to face him. “My reputation will be in tatters. I’ll have to go into seclusion because I’ll never, ever be able to show my face in Town again. And my father—” She groaned at the thought and covered her eyes. “You don’t think I want to marry Reginald, do you?”

  “Then what do you want, Lucia?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came forth. Her eyes met his.

  Chapter 15

  Her mind went blank. No one had ever asked her that before. In fact, she’d rarely considered it herself. Good Lord! Why not?

  But she knew why. She was afraid. Afraid that if she thought too hard about her future, about marrying Reginald, she’d never be able to go through with it. She would have run away. Disgraced her family. And she couldn’t do that. For once she would play the dutiful daughter.

  Alex was watching her, his pewter eyes hard now, but she remembered them differently. She remembered them burning with desire. Desire for her. Could she make them burn for her again?

  She stared at him, heart hammering, head swimming. She needed to touch his wide, bare chest. Run her fingers over those muscles and feel them tense and pulse under her touch. She needed him to touch her back. To make her forget, just for a little while, who she was and what was expected of her.

  “I want—” She wanted to see his gray eyes smolder with desire for her, but the words lodged in her throat. “I want you to kiss me again.”

  She’d expected him to balk, to lecture her, reason with her. But in the next instant he’d gathered her in his arms and was crushing her to his chest. “God,” he whispered into her hair, voice as full of need as she. “You don’t know how much I wanted to hear you say that.”

  “You did? But—” She couldn’t speak. His lips grazed her neck, just under her chin, tracing a feather-light path to her earlobe. His warm hands slid along her arms and pulled her into his heat. She could feel the hard, smooth muscles of his chest pressing against her breasts. “You’re not angry with me?”

  He kissed her again, and she sighed against his temple, savoring the clean scent of his skin and hair.

  He pulled back. “Oh, I’m angry with you.” He gave her a piercing look. “In fact, anger doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings.”

  She bit her lip, moved to step out of his arms, but then he grinned. “But I’m willing to overlook it. For the moment.”

  She laughed, a relieved sound that came from deep inside. His eyes smoldered in response, and her pulse quickened.

  “Oh, kiss me again, Alex. Kiss me again.” Her hands were in his hair, tugging his head down, drawing his lips to hers. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Don’t ever stop.”

  His lips tasted of brandy, warm and sweet and intoxicating as his mouth moved over hers. And then the flavor was even stronger. He parted her lips, kissing her deeply, gently, insistently.

  Lucia gripped his shoulders, then followed his example. She ran her tongue along his, wondering at the erotic feel of his intimate flesh tangling with hers. He growled with pleasure, and his hands grasped her face, taking control and positioning her for the next assault.

  She loved it. At that moment she was his. Unconditional surrender. He buried his strong hands in the waves of her hair, using it to pull her closer. She moaned as his hands slid from her hair to caress her shoulders and trace a fiery path from her spine to the small of her back. He gripped her backside and pulled her hard against his straining erection. And when she gasped at the surge of desire that slashed through her, she wanted him to feel it, too. She wanted him to desire her as much as—no, more than—she desired him at that moment.

  Following his lead, she ran her hands down his back, pausing for only a second before venturing lower. The muscles of his back tensed at her touch.

  “You’re bol
der than I’d imagined.”

  “Am I?” Her hand skated over his buttocks. He inhaled sharply.

  “I don’t like demanding women, Lucia,” he murmured against her cheek.

  “I shall endeavor to be less demanding,” she purred, dancing her fingertips up and around to the taut muscles of his abdomen. With a shudder, he pulled away, running a hand through his already tousled hair.

  She swayed when the contact was broken. She couldn’t have formed a coherent thought if her life depended on it. Her mind chanted, Alex. Alex. She smiled. She’d never seen him so dazed. So adorably flustered and…aroused.

  He frowned at her. “I meant I don’t like women sneaking in my windows and making wild accusations.”

  “Do women often sneak into your windows?” She grinned at him and stepped closer.

  “Just you, sweetheart.” His molten gaze seared her. “Just you.” Though his eyes were hot with desire, he made no move to touch her again. “Dewhurst is on his way.”

  She knew what he was doing. He was reaching for some last vestige of control, a final remnant of strength. He was stalling, fighting for time she didn’t want to give and didn’t have. It was already too late. She’d gone too far now. Too far to go back.

  She slid easily into his arms again, kissing his neck lightly. He didn’t kiss her back but made no attempt to stop her. Beneath her lips, his pulse beat wildly, and she traced his flesh with her tongue. He groaned.

  “It will be hours before your servant finds Lord Dewhurst. Do you know what I think?” she murmured in his ear.

  “If it’s even remotely close to what I’m thinking, you should be arrested,” he said, voice ragged with want.

  “I think you do like demanding women. I think you’ve been hoping I’d crawl through your window.” She pushed her belly against his hard member.

  Alex jumped back as though he’d been burned. He held a hand up and backed away from her. “I’m going to take you home now, Lucia.” But he didn’t sound as if he meant it.

  “Are you telling me or convincing yourself?” She stepped closer, and he put his hand between them again.

  “We leave now or you’ll regret it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to leave.” Taking his outstretched hand, she held it against her cheek.

  “Do you know what you’re saying?” His voice was frayed, his expression a mixture of hope and incredulity. “You cannot stay.”

  He was absolutely right. She couldn’t stay. It would mean ruining herself. Dewhurst was on his way, and if even a hint or suggestion of her presence here were ever made, she’d be a fallen woman. Irrevocably compromised.

  But it wasn’t just her own reputation at stake. Her parents, Ethan and Francesca, and their children. Lord, her father would never forgive her if she sullied the family name.

  She felt the warmth of Alex’s hand on her cheek and met his steady gaze. For as long as she could remember, she’d been told she was too impulsive, too quick to act. Was Alex one more crazy impulse she’d neglected to think through?

  Looking at Alex now, she didn’t think so. She might never have another chance with him. Tonight was proof enough that he was perfectly capable of controlling himself around her, even when he was half dressed and she was standing in his bedroom. And after this he’d probably bar the doors and windows against her.

  A minute passed, then another. Both of them stood motionless, the only sounds the crackling fire, their rapid breathing, and the pounding of her heart. Lucia wanted it to last forever. She stared at him, taking sustenance from his touch, his presence. The candlelight reflected in his gray eyes, warmed them to light blue. She knew the depths of his desire for her as clearly as if he’d spoken the words aloud.

  And she felt it, too. She’d always felt it. Always known he was the only man for her.

  And now she had him, and she couldn’t walk away this time. If these feelings were mere impulse, then for once her whims were leading her in the right direction. Being with Alex was right.

  She parted her lips to speak and had to wet them to make the words come. His eyes darkened to silver.

  “I want you, Alex.”

  “Bloody hell,” he groaned and pulled away. Lucia had to stop herself from reaching out to him. Please. Please don’t let him reject me now.

  “Lucia.” His voice caught when he said her name, and hope surged within her, only to be slapped down again. “You’re engaged. Dandridge—”

  “Don’t!” she cried. She had a wild urge to cover his mouth with her hand. It seemed somehow vulgar, profane to say his name here. “Don’t,” she repeated, softer this time. “I know who you are and what you are, and I know my own obligations. Alex, please. I—I don’t want my first time to be with…him.”

  Alex’s head snapped up and his blue-gray gaze locked on her face for five long heartbeats.

  She didn’t know what test he was giving her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to pass it. She just knew that she needed him. She wanted him. She always had. She always would.

  “Come here.” His voice was dark, heavy velvet running over every inch of her body.

  She didn’t move.

  He raised a brow. “Are you staying?”

  She nodded, unable to do otherwise, but alarmed at the sudden realization that she was going to get her wish.

  “Then come here.” He extended his hand in invitation, and when she still hesitated he crooked his finger at her, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. She smiled back and managed to take a few unsteady steps, and then she was in his arms—safe and warm. And trembling.

  To her surprise, he kissed her forehead tenderly. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

  “I’m afraid of this. I’m afraid of this feeling I have for you.”

  “So am I.”

  Lucia knew he probably said that to every woman he bedded, but it warmed her anyway. Then he lifted her chin and began to kiss her.

  The kiss was different from before. He wasn’t going to stop this time, and that changed everything, heightened each sensation, gave every touch new meaning.

  He moved slowly, seducing her with his lingering, deliberate caresses. There was none of the fervency of their earlier kisses in his lips now. Lucia almost felt that she could better handle those frenzied assaults compared to this calculated seduction. Alex’s unhurried exploration made her feel so much more. Made her sigh and moan and ache.

  His lips traced her mouth lightly, and heat, swift and stark, coursed through her. She pressed closer, and his mouth locked firmly to hers, spiraling the warmth lower until she was throbbing between her thighs. She pushed harder against him, needing to feel his body against hers, and still he kissed her slowly, lips so consummate in their task that she feared she couldn’t bear the torture. She needed something more.

  Then his tongue probed her mouth gently and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She felt his hands tighten on her and knew he was beginning to lose control. He traced the contours of her mouth with his tongue while his hands ran over her body, like a blind man intent on memorizing every hill and valley. Lord, she was dizzy and exhilarated and terrified.

  He unfastened her gown and pushed it off her shoulders. The material slid away effortlessly, and the contrast between the cool air of the room and the scorching heat of Alex’s body was scintillating. Dressed only in her chemise and stockings, for the briefest moment she felt embarrassment creep in. No one but her maid Jane had seen her unclothed since she’d been a child.

  And then Alex was kissing her again—long and deep and thorough—and all thought fled. His skillful mouth made her forget her self-consciousness.

  Alex scooped her up, cradling her in his arms, then carrying her to the bed. He laid her on the coverlet as though she were fragile bone china, then he came down next to her. His hard thigh was warm against her soft one, and she gazed at him. He propped his head on one elbow and watched her, fingers stroking her hair.

  She loved it when he looked at
her. His eyes all but devoured her, and Lucia, who’d detested that look in the eyes of many men in the past, needed to see it in Alex’s gaze. Reveled in seeing it. The feathery-soft stroking of his fingers infused her with heat and vitality. His fingers lingered, his touch becoming more persistent.

  She reached up, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, and Alex’s eyes went from gray to silver blue again. “Do you like it when I kiss you?” His husky breath whispered over the bare skin of her shoulders.

  “Yes.” Her cheeks flamed.

  His fingers slipped beneath the straps of her chemise, and she held her breath.

  “Do you want me to kiss you here?” He traced the line of her shoulder, and a delicious tingle radiated from each stroke.

  “Yes.” She breathed the word.

  Alex pushed the straps of the chemise down, leaned over, and tenderly kissed her bare shoulder. His lips were tinder, his hands small sparks, inflaming her desire as he moved lower.

  She gasped.

  Alex cupped first one breast, then the other, rubbing his palms over her nipples. She bucked and moaned as the flesh hardened in his hands.

  His eyes flicked to hers. “Do you want me to kiss you here?”

  She blinked. “Alex, I—”

  “Say yes.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He lowered the chemise further. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said huskily.

  She’d heard the accolade many times, but this was the first time it meant anything. Then his mouth skimmed across her breast, and she knew true pleasure.

  Her hands fisted in his hair, and as he continued to plunder her, she shifted restlessly under him. He was relentless, kissing one breast, tongue tracing the underside, then the other, rolling each nipple over his tongue, taking each into his sultry mouth.

  Lucia whimpered. He stripped the chemise from her, then parted her thighs. “Wait!” She tried to sit up, tried to stop him.

 

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