by Never A Lady
Normally after the passions were spent, he took his leave, preferring to put some distance between himself and his partner. But the feel of Alexandra asleep in his arms had suffused his entire being with a sense of peace unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Not until the first mauve streaks of dawn threatened to break through the night sky did he leave her, and even then he’d had to force himself to do so. Only four hours had passed since he’d slipped from her bed, yet it felt more like four decades.
“Good morning, Colin.”
Nathan’s cheerful voice yanked him from his thoughts. He turned and watched his brother stride toward him. Nathan’s gaze dipped to the puppy, and his smile widened. “Ah! I see you finally discovered your gift. I left him with Ellis, who assured me he’d be well taken care of until he delivered him into your hands.”
“At a time when you were not around for me to hand the beast back to you.”
Nathan’s grin was unrepentant. “Precisely. Timing is an art, you know. As is matchmaking. I took one look at that puppy and knew he was destined to be yours.”
“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of the beast’s company. Therefore, I must return him.” But damn it, even as he said the words, somehow his arm remained cuddling the sleeping dog.
“Nonsense. A man who senses danger in his life needs a good watchdog.”
“Perhaps. But you cannot possibly believe that this is the dog for the job. As far as I can tell, he’d do nothing but lick an intruder. Indeed, all this beast is capable of doing is sleeping, eating, chewing on boots, piddling on floors, and yipping in a deafening fashion. Especially when one is trying to sleep.”
“That pretty well describes puppies in general. Which is why they are so incredibly adorable—to offset those other less endearing qualities.”
“It is precisely those other less endearing qualities that have prevented me from acquiring one.”
“From acquiring one, yes. But not from wanting one.”
“I don’t want—”
“Of course you do. You’re just too stubborn to admit it. Look at how perfectly little Daffodil fits in your arms.”
Colin blinked then looked toward the ceiling. “Daffodil? Good God. What sort of name is Daffodil for a boy dog?”
“You are, of course, welcome to save him from a life of shame and rename him. I can only guess that he’d greatly appreciate it.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t gnaw off your arm at saddling him with such a horrendous moniker. But you shall have to rename him, as I’m not keeping him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you. And I therefore know that creatures named Rosebud, Lilac, Hydrangea, Lily, and Chrysanthemum will soon follow, and my home will resemble a farmhouse.”
Nathan laid his hand over his heart. “You have my word that no farm beasts named Rosebud, Lilac, Hydrangea, Lily, or Chrysanthemum will follow.”
Colin narrowed his eyes, well acquainted with Nathan’s tricks. “Or Gardenia, or Larkspur or anything of that sort.”
“Agreed. Actually, I gave you Daffodil not only to protect you—”
“—Excellent, as I fear that is a hopeless case—”
“—But also because he will help you secure a bride.”
He stared, nonplussed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Bride,” Nathan repeated, drawing out the syllable slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “Take Daffodil for a long walk in Hyde Park. Believe me, there is nothing quite like a gamboling puppy to draw female attention. You can narrow your bride search by rejecting any lady who isn’t immediately smitten with your darling dog, as she is clearly coldhearted and not worthy of your admiration. And certainly not worthy of being your bride and bearing the title Viscountess Sutton.” He spread his hands and smiled. “See how helpful I am?”
“I’m not certain helpful is the word I would use to describe you right now,” he muttered.
Bride. Viscountess Sutton. The words lurched through him, reminding him he’d barely devoted a moment’s consideration to the very reason he’d come to London. All thoughts of finding a bride had dissolved like sugar in hot chocolate the moment he’d seen Alexandra.
As if the thought of her conjured her up, she appeared in the doorway, standing behind Lord Wexhall’s impeccable butler Peters, who cleared his throat, then announced, “Madame Larchmont.” The servant withdrew, leaving her framed in the doorway.
Dressed in a plain, unadorned brown day gown, her hair pulled back in a simple chignon at her nape, she stole his breath. Her gaze met his, and he wasn’t in the least bit surprised when his lungs ceased to function for several seconds. He swore something warm and intimate passed between them in that single look. The flood of sensual memories that hovered so close to the surface overflowed, filling him with heat and lust and need and the nearly overwhelming desire to stride across the room and drag her into his arms and spend the rest of the day showing her exactly how much he’d missed her.
Missed her. It was utterly ridiculous that he would do so after so short an absence, but there was no denying that he had. It was as if he’d sat beneath a cloud from the time he’d left her until now. But now that she’d appeared, the sun had emerged, warming him, filling him with energy. And a deep longing to touch her. Kiss her. To be close to her.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, stepping into the room.
“Good morning,” he murmured, knowing that his too-observant brother would note how his gaze devoured her and not caring.
“Good morning, Madame,” Nathan said. “I hope you slept well?”
She smiled. “I did, thank you. I just saw Lady Victoria in the breakfast room. She wondered if you planned to join her.”
“An invitation I’d never refuse,” Nathan said with a smile. “If you’ll both excuse me?”
He started across the room, but before he’d made it to the doorway, Alexandra’s gaze dipped to the bundle Colin held and her eyes widened. “Oh, my,” she said, a smile curving her lips—lips he noted that still looked kiss-swollen. “What an adorable puppy!”
Colin heard Nathan’s chuckle from the doorway and when he looked at his brother, Nathan silently mouthed I told you so. Then, with a cheery wave, he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Alexandra stopped in front of him, her gaze riveted on the sleeping and unfortunately named Daffodil.
“Who is this?” she asked, running a fingertip over the puppy’s midnight fur.
It took him several seconds to answer as his thought processes were disrupted by her nearness. And the fact that she wasn’t wearing her usual lacy gloves. The sight of her bare hand warmed him far more than it should have. The scent of fresh soap and oranges rose from her skin, and he stared at her fingers, recalling the feel of them stroking his skin. Tunneling through his hair. Wrapped around his erection.
Instead of answering her question, he said softly, “You’re not wearing your gloves.”
She lifted her gaze from the puppy, and he was stilled by the impact of her eyes and the delicate blush coloring her cheeks. “You said you liked my hands.”
Surely he shouldn’t have been so inordinately glad at her obvious wish to please him. “I do,” he said, sliding his free arm around her waist and drawing her close. “I also like your lips.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, intending to keep the contact light and brief. But the instant his mouth touched hers, she parted her lips, and with a growl of want, he hauled her against him and gave in to his hunger for the deep, intimate kiss he’d craved for hours.
At that moment the unfortunately named Daffodil squirmed, then let out a series of barks. Alexandra leaned back and Colin groaned, and they both looked down at the puppy, whose button eyes were alert and whose pink tongue was searching for something to kiss.
“He’s letting us know that he doesn’t like being ignored,” she said with a laugh, as the puppy set to work kissing her fingers.
“How delightful,” Colin muttered. He tr
ied to glower at the wriggling kiss-interrupting bundle of fur, but it was difficult to remain stern when the woman and the dog were so delighted with each other. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, holding out her hands.
Colin transferred the bundle, then watched Alexandra hold the squirming, ecstatic puppy at arm’s length and laugh. “You are so sweet,” she crooned, drawing in her arms to cuddle the small dog to her chest. When she buried her face in the soft black fur and gently kissed its head, the pup quieted and let out what sounded like a sigh of contentment.
Damn smart dog, Colin decided.
And damned lucky, too.
“He’s absolutely wonderful,” Alexandra said, looking up to smile into his eyes. “Is he yours?”
“Yes, he is,” he said without hesitation. “He’s the gift my brother mentioned. As Nathan’s offerings always require feeding and care, I wasn’t surprised. Indeed, I was relieved that he didn’t see fit to bestow upon me a gaggle of geese or a herd of cows.”
“Does he have a name?”
He looked at the small dog, curled in her arms, his little head nestled against the generous curve of her breast, and said, “Lucky. His name is Lucky.”
“A very fine name.”
“And very apt, as he is close to you.” He stepped forward and, unable to keep from touching her, trailed his fingers over her smooth cheek. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“A bit…tender, but in a very delightful way.”
“Delightful…” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against the side of her neck. “That describes last night perfectly.”
“I’m also surprisingly well rested. I do not normally sleep so late. You make a very comfortable pillow.”
His fingers glided lower, tracing over her collarbone, biting back the urge to tell her that the simple act of holding her while she’d slept had brought him as much joy and contentment as making love to her had. “Did you find your surprise?”
“Yes, thank you. It was delicious. Had you brought it from home?”
“No. I pilfered it before coming to your room—from the secret supply of sweets I knew Nathan would have. I know all his hiding places.”
“You managed to pilfer it during the short time it took me to get back to my bedchamber?”
“I did.”
“Heavens, you are talented. In, um, more ways than one.”
“Thank you.” His fingers glided lower to cup her breast, and she gasped softly. “Would you be interested in another demonstration of my talents?” he asked, brushing his thumb over her nipple, feeling it pebble beneath the material of her gown.
“Wh…what did you have in mind?”
For an answer, he reached out and gently plucked the sleepy puppy from her arms. After settling Lucky on the hearth rug, where he promptly yawned and curled into a drowsy ball, Colin crossed the room and locked the door, the quiet click reverberating in the suddenly tense silence.
Turning, he walked slowly toward her, enjoying the way her eyes widened. When he reached her, he didn’t stop, just wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off her feet, and continued moving.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, entwining her arms around his neck.
“Showing you what I have in mind.”
“Here? Now?”
He reached the wall and pressed her against the mahogany paneling. “Right here,” he whispered against her neck, breathing in her luscious fragrance while his hands lifted her skirts. “Right now.”
“But what about Lord Wexhall?”
“He’s out for the day.”
“Your brother and Lady Victoria?”
“They’re notoriously slow eaters.”
“And if they aren’t today?”
“That’s why I locked the door.”
“But they’ll know what we’re doing!” Yet even as she protested, her hands fisted in his hair and dragged his mouth toward hers.
“Only if we’re not quick. Exactly how tender are you feeling?” he asked, dropping quick kisses to her lips between each word.
“Not nearly as tender as desperate.”
“Thank God.” He ruched up her skirts to her waist, then hooked her thigh over his hip, opening her for his exploring fingers.
She sucked in a sharp breath when his hand slipped inside the slit in her drawers, a sound that coincided with his groan as he caressed her slick folds.
“You’re already wet,” he growled against her mouth.
Her hand stroked over his erection. “You’re already hard.”
“Constantly.” He slowly slid a finger deep inside her tight heat. “Entirely your fault. I’m afraid it’s going to become an embarrassing problem.”
“Consider me more than willing to help.”
“An offer I’ve no intention of refusing.” Slipping his hand from her body, he reached between them and freed himself from his breeches as quickly as his unsteady fingers allowed. A small inner voice interjected that he was showing a decided lack of finesse, but dark, fiery urgency shoved the voice aside. He wanted her, needed her, needed to be inside her. Now.
The instant he was free, he grasped her beneath the buttocks and lifted. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said in a voice he barely recognized. “And hold on.”
Seconds later he slid into her hot, wet heat. And lost all semblance of control. He stroked her with long, hard, deep thrusts, gritting his teeth against the swelling need to climax, watching every nuance of her flushed face, her parted lips. Her eyes slid closed and her fingers bit into his shoulders and she cried out, arching her back, her inner walls convulsing around him. The instant he felt her relax, he withdrew from her body and pressed his erection tight against her abdomen. He pressed his face to the warm, fragrant curve of her neck as his release thundered through him.
When his tremors subsided, he raised his head. Her eyes blinked open, and, for several long seconds, they simply stared at each other. He wanted to say something, something light and witty, but light and witty was beyond him. This woman not only robbed him of his control, but apparently of his wits as well. So he said the only word he felt capable of uttering.
“Alexandra.”
Then he leaned forward and kissed her, sliding slowly into the velvety warmth of her mouth, savoring the taste of her, the erotic friction of her tongue rubbing against his, the scent of her warmed skin and their shared passion rising between them. His heart thudded against his ribs, and he ended their kiss as slowly as it had begun.
“You are indeed a talented man,” she whispered, her head lolling against the wall.
“And you are a delicious woman. I didn’t hurt you?”
“Heavens, no. While last night was slow and gentle and lovely, I cannot deny that there is something wickedly delicious about the hard-and-fast approach.”
“Duly noted.”
One corner of her mouth lifted in a saucy grin. “I can’t wait to see what you plan to demonstrate next.”
“Based on the way you affect me, you’ll find out very soon.”
He lowered her gently, and, when she stood on her own, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “You should visit your bedchamber to better freshen up before we leave,” he said, gently wiping at the evidence of their spent passion.
“Leave?”
“Yes. I’m here to accompany you on any errands you may have.”
“Oh?” She raised a clearly skeptical brow. “And here I thought you were here to have your wicked way with me.”
He chuckled. “And now that I have, we can commence with your errands. And mine as well.”
“What errands do you have?”
“Well, first, it would appear I have a dog to walk.”
Seventeen
Alex walked in Hyde Park, and as she had at dinner the previous evening, she surreptitiously pinched her leg. Hard. Again the pain made her realize this wasn’t a dream.
Yet how could it be real that she—Alexandra Larchmont, bac
k-alley rat and former thief of St. Giles—would be strolling through Hyde Park, escorted by a viscount—a man who was not only handsome and intelligent and wealthy, but her lover?
She flexed her fingers against the crook of Colin’s arm. The hard muscle beneath his very proper midnight blue cutaway coat was definitely real. Turning her head, she looked up at him, and a sigh of pleasure escaped her.
Ribbons of bright sunshine filtered through the leaves of the soaring elms lining the pathway, gilding his thick dark hair and casting his features in dappled shades of gold. Perhaps there existed, somewhere in the world, a more beautiful man, but she couldn’t imagine what that man might look like.
Yet it wasn’t simply his handsome features that attracted her so fiercely. He possessed every quality she’d fantasized he would when she’d first laid eyes on him at Vauxhall. He was intelligent and amusing. Kind and patient. Sensual and exciting. And when he’d given her his trust, he’d bestowed upon her a gift more valuable to her than jewels or money.
His trust. Guilt pricked her, knowing he wouldn’t have given her such a precious prize if he knew her past, if he’d recalled their Vauxhall meeting. But it was a gift she cherished and selfishly refused to give up. He trusted her, and she’d give him no reason to regret that choice.
He must have felt the weight of her regard as he turned his head. The heated, speculative glimmer in his eyes shot fire to her toes, and she was tempted to pinch herself again to prove that she was actually here. With him. And that he was looking at her in that smoldering, intimate way.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked in an undertone, leaning toward her, his shoulder bumping hers.
“I don’t know.” She debated whether or not to admit the truth, then said, “I was trying to convince myself that this afternoon stroll with my handsome viscount lover wasn’t merely a figment of my imagination.”
“Hmmm. Definitely not what I was thinking.”
“Oh? In what direction were your thoughts wandering?”
“I was wondering how long before we could leave this bloody park so I could strip my exquisite fortune-teller lover naked and make love to her again.”