Beauty and the Earl

by Patricia Grasso

  Miles held his hand out as if asking her to dance. “Will you come upstairs with me?”

  Her gaze mirrored her confusion. “Upstairs?”

  “To bed.”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks in a ferocious blush. “You are certain?”

  Miles gave her a rueful smile. “I believe I am supposed to ask that question.”

  “Is afternoon proper?” she whispered, placing her hand in his. “Should we not wait for night?”

  “Any time is proper for lovemaking.” Miles guided her out of the drawing room.

  She is a virgin, he reminded himself as they climbed the stairs in silence. He must move slowly, lest he ruin her first experience and endanger their marriage before they had even spoken their vows.

  Good God, what an unlikely pair they made. He needed immediate release. She needed a slow seduction.

  Miles lifted her hand to his lips when they stood outside her bedchamber door. “Prepare yourself and I will join you shortly.”

  “How do I prepare myself,” Amber asked, her expression panicked.

  Miles struggled against a smile. “Change into your bedrobe.”

  After she disappeared into her chamber, Miles walked into his own chamber. He changed into his black silk bedrobe and poured himself a shot of whisky. It went down in one gulp, burning a path to his stomach.

  Judging enough time had passed, Miles touched his mask and knocked on the connecting door. He heard her call softly, walked into the bedchamber, and paused for a moment.

  The princess had closed the drapes, casting the chamber into semidarkness. A night candle burned on the bedside table, and the bed curtains were open.

  “I shut the drapes.” Her apprehension was apparent in the movement of her hands.

  “So I see.” Miles sauntered toward her.

  The princess’s frightened expression reminded him of a fledgling warrior in the midst of a first battle. And so it was her first battle. With love.

  “Is closing the drapes proper?” she asked, when he stood in front of her.

  “No rules exist for lovemaking.” Miles placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. “I promise there is nothing to fear.”

  Amber lifted her chin a notch, her gaze meeting his. “I feel no fear.”

  “It isn’t too late to change your mind,” Miles said, his face inching closer to hers. “You do not need to do this.”

  She made no reply. Her silence was his answer.

  His lips touched hers in a tentative kiss, allowing her a moment to refuse his advances. She inched her body closer, her hands creeping up his chest to wrap around his neck, bringing her body in contact with his.

  “So be it, Princess.”

  His kiss was long and slow and drugging. She sighed, savoring the sensation of his firm, warm lips on hers.

  Miles flicked his tongue out and caressed the crease between her lips, which parted for him, allowing him entrance to her mouth. His passion heating her, she touched his tongue tentatively at first and then grew bolder until their tongues swirled together in an ancient mating dance.

  Amber felt hot and cold all at the same time. She wanted him, needed him. His power and strength surrounded her, drew her irresistibly to him.

  “I want to see you.” Miles stepped back a pace and pulled one end of the sash holding her robe closed.

  With both hands, he reached up and pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her naked to his gaze. His breath caught raggedly at the sight of the exquisite beauty that would belong to him exclusively after today.

  Amber stood motionless in front of him, her silver-blond hair cascading like a shimmering bride’s veil to her waist. She watched his gaze drift from her face to linger on her breasts and then slip lower to her hips and legs.

  Miles lifted her into his arms and placed her on the bed. He joined her there, kissing her thoroughly, stealing her breath away. And then his lips left hers to sprinkle kisses on her temples, eyelids, throat.

  Acting on instinct, Amber entwined her arms around his neck and tried to draw him down on her. “I want to feel your flesh touching mine,” she whispered.

  “Soon, Princess.” Miles captured her lips in a long, slow kiss. He slid his hands down her arms and then up the sensitive inner sides. His fingers traced the circle of her nipples, and then his lips followed his fingers. He flicked his tongue back and forth across the sensitive tips of her nipples, making her squirm with arousal.

  Amber felt the stab of desire shoot from her nipples to the spot between her thighs. She had not known such pleasure existed, had never imagined the incredible feeling of a man’s lips and hands on her. The spark of desire in her lower regions fanned into a flame growing hotter with each flick of his tongue, each roll of his fingertips around the bead of her nipple.

  Arching her hips, Amber enticed him to take her. She wanted him inside her body. She wanted him to lose himself in her. She wanted him to mark her as his.

  Miles knelt beside her, but before he could reach to remove his robe, she pulled at the belt. His passion-dulled mind cleared, and he remembered his scarred left side.

  It was too late to stop.

  Fright caught in his throat as he shrugged the robe off his shoulders, exposing his flaws to her gaze. Even the chamber’s dimness could not hide the scars.

  Dazed with desire, Amber traced her silken fingers across his chest and savored the feeling of his warm, muscled flesh. She sat up and dropped light kisses across his chest.

  No flicker in her eyes. No revulsion quickly masked. As if my scars are invisible.

  Miles groaned in mingling desire, relief, and awe. He pressed her back on the bed, lay on top of her, and captured her lips. He poured all his long denied need into that single, stirring kiss.

  For the first time in her young life, Amber felt a man’s strength covering her, pressing her down. And she liked it. “Make me yours.”

  “As you wish, my princess.” After pulling a pillow beneath her bottom, Miles spread her thighs with his legs and poised himself to pierce. Slowly, he pushed the head of his manhood inside her moist entrance.

  “Look at me, Princess.”

  Amber opened her eyes.

  “Say no now,” Miles warned, his voice husky with barely controlled need. “Or you will belong to me forever.”

  Amber arched her hips toward him, drawing him deeper inside her.

  “Say the words, princess.”

  “I want you.”

  “Forever?”

  “Forever.”

  “I am sorry, Princess.” With one powerful thrust, Miles broke through her maidenhead and embedded his full length inside her, making her gasp.

  After giving her a moment to accustom herself to him, Miles moved slowly and enticed her to move with him. Acting on instinct, Amber wrapped her legs around his waist and caught his rhythm. She met him thrust for thrust. He ground himself into her moist heat and, leaning down, sucked upon a nipple.

  Amber cried out as throbbing waves of pleasure surged through her. Miles thrust deep and hard, shuddering as he poured his seed inside her.

  For long moments, the only sound in the bedchamber was their labored breathing. Recovering himself, Miles rolled to the side and pulled her into his arms.

  “The first time is difficult,” he told her, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. “The lovemaking will get better after today.”

  “Better than this?” She sounded surprised.

  Miles tightened his embrace. “Much better.”

  “How many times will it take to get pregnant?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “Only God knows the answer to that.”

  “Will we do this after I become pregnant?”

  Miles gave her an indulgent smile. “We will do this whenever you want.”

  Good God, he had forgotten how inexperienced she actually was. “Close your eyes and sleep now.” He stroked her back and, when her breathing evened, knew she slept.

  I could love her. Miles knew he could not
endure losing another woman. How best to protect himself?

  And then a plan formed in his mind. He would distance himself emotionally. He had loved Brenna too much not to be devastated by her loss and would not make the same mistake again.

  Chapter 7

  Amber awakened to the sound of rain hitting her window. The rhythmic pounding soothed her, filling her with security. She adored stormy days almost as much as she loved sunshine.

  “Miles?” Amber rolled over. She was alone, the earl having slipped away while she slept. She wished she could have awakened in his arms. Like lovers do. Or so she supposed.

  Trying to recapture the moments shared with him, Amber yanked the coverlet over her head and closed her eyes. She could almost see his face inching closer, taste his lips, inhale his fresh scent, feel his strength pressing her down, hear his whispered words.

  Amber emerged from beneath the coverlet. Magical moments slipped away too quickly. Recapturing them would always prove impossible. She needed to make new moments in order to recapture the feeling.

  Amber rose from the bed and looked down at her nudity, a reminder of the afternoon. She slipped into her robe and opened the window a crack to let the wind move her wishing bell.

  Taking special care with her appearance, Amber chose a silk gown with scooped neckline. Then she brushed her light blond hair and wove it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. On impulse, she searched one of the highboy’s drawers. She withdrew a man’s ring, a diamond-encrusted gold band with an enormous aquamarine stone. The royal insignia appeared on both sides of the ring that had once belonged to Czar Alexander.

  The earl and she had come a long way in a very short time. Her gift of this ring, a cherished present from her father, would symbolize her hopes for their future.

  Amber could hardly wait to see him. What would he say after the intimacies they had shared? She felt as naked emotionally as she had been physically a few hours earlier.

  Humming a sprightly tune to buoy her courage, Amber walked downstairs to the dining room. Unfortunately, the earl wasn’t there.

  “Your Highness, let me escort you to the table,” Pebbles said, rushing forward. “I will serve you myself tonight.”

  “Thank you. Where is His Lordship?”

  “My lord sends his regrets.” Pebbles set a bowl of spring soup in front of her. “He is working in his study.”

  “I see.” Amber did not see at all. She had given the earl her virginity, and now he chose to ignore her.

  Though she ached with disappointment, Amber kept her expression placid. She had displeased the earl. What other reason could there be for his making love and then ignoring her presence? Was he comparing her to his late wife? Perhaps she was only imagining the worst, and the earl’s behavior was normal. She wished she could consult an older, more experienced woman.

  Refusing to show her humiliation, Amber forced herself to sit alone at the dinner table for more than an hour, almost the same amount of time she would have sat if her host had been present. “Just-Pebbles, please convey my gratitude to Cook.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Amber climbed the main staircase to the second floor. Instead of continuing to the third floor, she walked in the direction of the library. If the earl was displeased, she would prefer to know now rather than worry all night.

  She had always been like that. When her cousins had teased her about monsters living beneath her bed, she refused to worry all night. Instead, she lifted the coverlet and knelt down to confront whatever might be hiding. Not the closet, though. Never the closet.

  Fingering the gold ring, Amber paused outside the library and debated whether to enter. She needed to face the earl as if she had not a worry in the world.

  Pasting a sunny smile on her face, she stepped inside the library before she could retreat and, on shaking legs, crossed the enormous chamber to his study. She saw the earl look up at her entrance, and then he rose from his chair.

  Amber felt the blush rising on her cheeks. Gesturing for him to sit, she wondered if the earl was remembering their afternoon of passion. “I apologize for interrupting.”

  “Why are you blushing?” Amusement lit his dark eyes. “Lovemaking should never embarrass you.”

  “I wish we had dined together,” Amber said, his words embarrassing her more. “I never did like dining alone.”

  “I apologize for deserting you,” Miles said, his tone coolly polite. “I lost precious hours today.”

  “I do not want to keep you from your work.” Amber felt uncertain but set the ring on the desk in front of him. “I want to give you this.”

  Miles gave her a puzzled smile and dropped his gaze to the ring. He lifted it off the desk to inspect it.

  “The stone is aquamarine, and the scrolled gold is encrusted with diamonds,” Amber told him.

  “This is a fine piece.” Miles set it down on the desk instead of slipping it on his finger. “I thank you for thinking of me. Was there something else?”

  He sounded like a stranger, not the man to whom she had given her virginity. “The ring belonged to my father,” Amber said, hurt by his lack of enthusiasm. “You will see the royal insignia on both sides of the aquamarine.”

  Miles directed his gaze to hers. “Your father?”

  “Czar Alexander.”

  “The czar sired you,” Miles corrected her. “He chose not to father you. Good God, you never even met him.”

  His words crushed her heart. “If my father had been killed in a war before I was born,” she argued, “he would still be my father.”

  “The czar was not killed in a war before you were born, but lived within miles of you for part of the year,” Miles said. “He chose never to invite you to meet him, publicly or not. Czar Alexander tossed you a crumb of affection, which you gobbled like a starving woman.”

  “My father holds me in special regard,” Amber cried. “I am the daughter he produced with the love of his life.”

  “Czar Alexander cared little for you or your mother,” Miles said, hating himself for his cruelty. Protect your heart. Protect your heart. Protect your heart.

  “Your Highness,” she corrected him.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Call me Your Highness. I revoke my permission to use my given name.”

  Miles snapped his brows together. “I do not say these things to hurt you.”

  “Czar Alexander loved my mother. What other reason could there be for his affair with her?”

  “The czar desired your mother in his bed,” he answered. “Unfortunately for them, their affair produced you.”

  “My father loves me,” Amber insisted, her complexion stark white. “He never met me because of the scandal.”

  “That is precisely my point. If the czar truly loved you, he would have ignored the scandal and sent for you.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “You know nothing about the czar or my mother.”

  Miles opened his mouth to speak

  “I will not listen to your lies.” She whirled away and ran out of the library.

  Reaching the refuge of her chamber, Amber burst into tears. She had given her virginity to the earl, and now he had turned on her with his filthy lies. He had hurt her. Purposely. Why had he asked her to remain at Arden Hall if he felt that way about her origins? She had been packing to leave. He need not have kept her there.

  All appeared lost.

  No virginity. No husband. No prospects.

  Amber sat on the chaise in front of the hearth. She held the czar’s miniature in her hand and stared at it. A sinking feeling settled around her heart. The earl had spoken truthfully. The czar had desired her mother and sired her but did not choose to father her. A loving father would have sent for her and arranged a marriage when she became eighteen.

  Amber recalled the evening at the opera, the only time she had ever seen the czar in person. On her sixteenth birthday she had attended the opera with Uncle Fedor, Sergei, and Sergei’s mother. They had be
en standing in the theater’s lobby when the czar and czarina entered with their entourage. The crowd parted for the czar’s party, but he paused to stare at her for an excruciatingly long moment.

  “Child, you have inherited your mother’s beauty,” Czar Alexander had said. “Felicitations on your birthday.” Then he had moved on without another word. She never saw him again.

  Wearied by her emotional outburst, Amber lay down on the chaise but kept the miniature clutched in her hand. She recalled the gossip the day after the opera. Sergei had told her that all of society was whispering about the czar speaking publicly to his by-blow. Perhaps the czar never acknowledged her in an effort to protect her from cruel tongues. She would like to think so.

  * * *

  One floor down in his study, Miles leaned over his desk and held his head in his hands. Self-loathing filled him. Guilt consumed him. He stared at the ring on the desk. He felt worse than if he had loved her and lost her.

  He had hurt her. Purposely.

  In order to survive, he needed to distance himself from her. Which was becoming increasingly difficult. How could he bear to love and lose another woman? He almost wished the princess had never come to Arden Hall. Almost.

  Miles lifted the ring off the desk. He wanted desperately to slip the ring on his finger but felt that action would bring him too close to the princess. Becoming emotionally involved with another woman would only lead to heartache. He pocketed the ring and rose from his chair.

  Now he had the unenviable task of setting things right. He needed to apologize to the princess. He needed to hold her. He needed to possess her body, heart, soul.

  He had been hurting these past four years. The princess had been hurting her whole life.

  He had known happiness. She had known none.

  Miles walked upstairs to his chamber. Setting the czar’s ring on his dresser, he changed into his bedrobe and paced back and forth while he summoned the courage to face her.

  Finally, he opened the connecting door and stepped inside her chamber. As usual, the night candle burned on the bedside table. The bed curtains remained open, but she was not in the bed.