Passionately Yours

by Cara Elliott

  “Then sweeting, I am sure, too.” Come what may.

  No more thoughts. Just elemental emotion—raging, rolling, thundering with the force of a Scottish gale sweeping over the rugged lochs.

  But despite the turmoil inside him, he traced his hands ever so gently over the swell of her hips and down the curve of her thighs, the gloom heightening his awareness of her softness and her strength.

  “You are exquisite,” he whispered. “Exquisitely perfect.”

  Her arms tightened around him. “Oh, Alec, I’m not—perfection is impossible, but that does not matter. It is the chips and flaws that make us interesting.”

  “How perfectly true. You are far wiser than I am.” He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, savoring the softness of her skin, the tiny twitch of her lips.

  A smile, unfailingly brave and bold.

  He adored her smile, and suddenly wished to see it as well as taste it. With his foot, he felt for the small door and nudged it open a crack, allowing a wisp of light to penetrate the storage nook.

  It was only a weak flutter, but suddenly her face looked luminous in the faint dappling.

  “I’m not wise.” Caro slid her palms along his shoulderblades. “Merely stubborn.”

  He inhaled, filling his lungs with the scent of her, and let it out in a soft laugh. “Wisdom sometimes requires persistence, so perhaps the two are entangled.”

  “Entangled.” Caro’s breath tickled, soft as satin against his cheek. “Like us.”

  “Like us,” agreed Alec. And then suddenly words were no longer important. Only the feel of their bodies so intimately entwined. She seemed to mold to his shape, as if made out of moonlight mist by some magical Highland faerie.

  Gently spreading her legs, he eased himself closer, closer.

  Wanting, wanting.

  His fingers stroked lightly through her damp curls and delved within her feminine folds.

  A gasp. Then a whisper, rich with questioning surprise. “Alec?”

  “Yes, yes, sweeting.” He found her hidden pearl and began a slow, circling caress.

  Caro let out a gossamer-soft cry and pressed her mouth to his shoulder. Her breath pulsed hot and ragged against his skin.

  That her body responded to his touch sent a surge of satisfaction thrumming through him. Quickening his tempo, Alec felt the coil of tension within her core tighten.

  “Oh, oh, oh.” Her wordless wonder urged him on.

  This was madness—he knew it.

  Mad and reckless, when he had sworn that he would never give way to dangerous emotions again. But Caro had stripped away his defenses, had slipped through the cracks of his stony resolve.

  Dangerous, and yet, somehow nothing mattered but Her.

  Caro—fearless, exuberant, adventurous. She made him feel so elementally alive.

  She arched up against his hand, her own need growing as urgent as his. Alec shifted, and all at once he was inside her, enveloped in a honeyed warmth that nearly made him come undone.

  He kissed her—madly, hungrily, thinking of nothing but her, and how right they felt together.

  Us. Entwined.

  And then all thought gave way to passion.

  Caro clutched tighter at Alec’s broad shoulders, feeling the flex of his taut muscles and heat-pulsed skin. She drew in a ragged breath and held still for a moment, but the pinch of their joining gave way to sublime warmth.

  “Shall I withdraw?” he asked in a concerned whisper.

  “No, please—don’t stop,” she replied. “It’s wonderful.” You’re wonderful. “I want…” I want this to go on forever. “I want you to teach me about… about…”

  Was it too wicked to say pleasure and passion?

  He started moving inside her, an elemental ebb and flow that sent a lick of heat spiraling through her. And suddenly words like “wicked” and “wanton” dissolved in waves of liquid fire.

  All that mattered was Alec.

  Matching his rhythm, she rose and fell, her body somehow sensing how to move in perfect harmony with his.

  I was wrong—perfection is possible.

  He groaned—or perhaps it was she who had made the sound. Her insides were thrumming with such pleasure that surely its joyful echo was making the air rumble.

  Alec quickened his tempo and as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, to her lips, her senses were enveloped in his earthy scent and salty taste. The powerful, primal essence of aroused male.

  Caro shuddered with the pleasure.

  Heat was cresting within her, a wild force that seemed to twist and spiral as it sought release. She must have given voice to her need, for Alec kissed her again, murmuring hoarsely, “Yes, yes, sweeting. I know what you want, and I want it too.”

  Faster, faster.

  The heat was unbearable. Surely in another instant they were both going to burst into flames.

  With a cry, Caro arched into his thrust and cried out. For what, she wasn’t sure. But then, a blaze of light seemed to fill the tiny space and then shatter apart in a crackling of diamond-bright shards.

  Her crystalline cry was echoed by his low growl as Alec thrust deep and then withdrew from her in a rush, rolling to one side, just as his sweat-slickened body convulsed.

  The sensation lasted an instant… or was it an eternity?

  Time seemed to hang suspended, as she floated on a cloud of golden sparks, mesmerized by the dying glitter of their fire. When at last her heartbeat came back down to earth, Caro shifted her spent body and found herself enfolded in Alec’s arms.

  He turned her and pulled her close, tucking the curve of her spine up against his chest.

  She nestled closer, feeling their bodies come together as if made for each other. The searing heat had mellowed to a softly pulsing warmth, like honey drizzling over her flesh.

  With a wordless sigh, Alec stirred and settled his palms just beneath her breasts.

  Her heartbeat thudded gently against his skin. Through half-closed eyes, she was vaguely aware that the door to the little storage space had shifted again, shading the space with an inky gloom. But the darkness no longer seemed so frightening.

  She felt safe within his steadying hold, taking strength she didn’t know she had from his closeness.

  Two as one.

  We fit together, like pieces of a puzzle, thought Caro, before sinking into a hazy sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alec drifted out from a silverspun fog, and slowly opened his eyes.

  Only to see a muddled darkness.

  How strange. Surely the gossamer sensations of spun-sugar warmth suffusing his body could only have come from the firebright sun. Momentarily disoriented, he blinked and shifted ever so slightly.

  And suddenly realized that the languor in his limbs was not because of a sweet, sweet dream.

  Remorse squeezed the smile from his lips. Not that he regretted his feelings, but his actions had been unforgivable.

  Caro shifted in his arms, snuggling, closer.

  Ye gods—I am a beast—worse than a beast, for I should possess some sense of right and wrong.

  He had taken ruthless advantage of Caro’s trust, her vulnerability, her innermost fears.

  And now he had ruined any chance she had of finding the happiness she so richly deserved.

  She was trapped…

  Caro stirred again and slid her arm around his waist. “It’s nice to feel you close when I wake up,” she said, her voice still muzzy with sleep. “Mmmm, I could lie here for hours…” Her fingertips crept down the curve of his bum. “And memorize every little dip and curve of your body.”

  The mention of time speared away his other dark musings. They didn’t have hours to linger here. They must be leaving, and quickly.

  But first…

  “Caro, we can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Mmmm, I suppose you are right.” She brushed her lips to the tip of his chin—a fleeting touch that made his heart thump against his ribs—before starting to sit up.
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  “A moment,” he responded, catching hold of her wrist. “There’s something I have to say first.”

  She went very still.

  Alec drew a breath, trying to loosen the terrible tightness in his chest. He felt like the worst sort of bounder, forcing her hand. But there was no time for wrapping the stark truth in silk ribbons.

  “This should be done with flowery words and sparkling champagne,” he went on awkwardly. “But I’m afraid you will have to settle for my plain, rough-cut words at this moment.”

  “What are you trying to say?” she asked, her tone turning wary.

  For an instant, his voice seemed stuck in his throat. “However unpolished, a proposal of marriage.”

  He heard her inhale a long, measured breath. “You are asking me to marry you?”

  Alec wished he could see her face. Her voice, normally so expressive, was toneless and impossible to read.

  “Actually, it’s not really a request,” he said softly. An unseen fist seemed to squeeze all the warmth from the air. “We both know we have no choice, considering what has just occurred between us.”

  A sliver of ice skated down her spine, and all at once Caro felt cold all over. “Of course we have a choice,” she replied.

  “There are consequences for giving way to passion, and we must accept them.” Alec shifted on the rumpled blanket. “But think on it. We have much in common.”

  Was he trying to convince her or himself?

  “We can be comfortable in a marriage,” Alec went on. “We share mutual interests, mutual sensibilities.” A pause. “I believe that we can learn to rub along without setting off sparks.”

  Fire—oh, but she wanted the fire!

  She wanted the flames that had burned within him as he had joined his body with hers.

  “You speak of comfort and common interests,” replied Caro slowly. “But what about love?”

  His hold on her wrist twisted and then tightened. For several long moments there was silence. To Caro they seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

  “I—I made a grave mistake before,” he said haltingly.

  “And you fear you are making another one?”

  He didn’t answer right away, which told her all she needed to know. “Well, I want to be more than someone’s mistake.” I want to be loved. “I want sparks in my marriage,” she added hotly. “I want poetry, I want passion.”

  He flinched.

  “I know I am asking too much of you, sir,” said Caro in a near whisper. It hurt to admit it. “But I don’t want to settle for less. So I shall not accept your proposal.”

  “Honor—” began Alec.

  “Honor be damned,” she exclaimed. “Among the many eccentric ideas my father taught me was that each individual must form his—or her—own sense of honor, no matter what Society dictates.” Pain lanced through her chest. “I shall follow my own heart, not some silly strictures that will only make us both miserable.”

  She felt Alec look away, even though she couldn’t see his face. “You deserve to be happy,” was all he said.

  But I won’t be—not without you.

  “Then we have an understanding?” she asked.

  “I will, of course, defer to your wishes for now.” An oblique answer if ever there was one. “But if on further reflection, you change your mind…”

  “I won’t,” Caro assured him.

  “You must think on it very carefully,” pressed Alec. “It’s never wise to make serious decisions in the heat of the moment.”

  “I told you, I’m not wise,” she shot back. “I’m impetuous, and willful, and stubborn… and all the other annoying things that drive you to distraction. You are right—marriage would be a horrible mistake.”

  “Caro…”

  She edged away and began to scrabble around in the dark to find her clothing. “As you said, we really need to be dressed and gone from here before your aunt and Isobel return.”

  A stocking, a chemise, a garter—how had her cursed corset strings become so entangled? Huffing a low oath, Caro wriggled out of the low opening with what she had gathered. She took cover behind a stack of bandboxes and, turning toward the wall, hurriedly set to pulling on her garments. A moment later she heard Alec emerge, and the sounds of rustling fabric indicated that he, too, was rushing to make himself ready to leave.

  Blinking back tears, she managed to unravel the knotted laces and do up her fastenings. No doubt she looked like something the cat dragged in, but she would think of some excuse—a sudden squall, a carriage mishap… a herd of wild unicorns running roughshod over her.

  After all, legend had it that unicorns could only be calmed by the touch of a virgin.

  Shaking off such cynicism, Caro tried to just concentrate on the practical task of getting home without setting off a public scandal. With her emotions in such turmoil, there was no point in trying to sort through them. That could wait until the midnight hours, when darkness would once again wrap around her and remind her of fire and ice and—

  “The antiquity.” Caro spun around. “Good heavens, we can’t leave it here in your quarters.”

  “It’s safe in the storage nook.” Alec stuffed his shirttails into his trousers. “I don’t think the magistrate is keen on returning.”

  “His superiors may order a more thorough search, especially if Thayer plants another poisonous seed in their minds,” she insisted. “I’ll take it. No one will ever suspect me of having it.”

  “No!” he said flatly. “I’ll not put you in danger.”

  “You aren’t,” Caro protested. “But Thayer has proved he’s diabolically clever, and determined to wreak evil on you. As long as it’s here, it’s you who is in danger. And that may also threaten Isobel.”

  Seeing that her argument had given him pause for thought, Caro hastened to add, “I’ll just keep it for tonight. Tomorrow we can decide on a neutral place to stash it until it can be safely returned to its rightful owners.”

  Alec darted a look out into the bedchamber. “Damnation, the light is fast fading.”

  “You know I’m right—on this at least,” she urged.

  “Just for tonight,” he growled.

  “Agreed,” she said quickly.

  He pulled a cloak from its peg and tossed it her way. “Put this on. There’s a route through the back alleyways that leads to the bottom of Milsom Street. If we are careful—and lucky—we should be able to make our way there without attracting any notice. From there, we’ll have just a short walk to your townhouse.”

  “The alleyways make sense,” she agreed as he quickly retrieved the antiquity. “But we can’t take a chance on you being seen with me.”

  “I—”

  “Oh, stop being so noble,” she said. “And be your usual practical, pragmatic self, Alec.”

  He looked up from refolding the wrapping around the ancient Roman eagle. The muted light accentuated the chiseled planes and angles of his face, making him seem very forbidding and far away.

  Caro ached to bridge the distance that had suddenly come between them but she wasn’t sure how.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed for having let the intimacy of his name slip out. It was a mistake she mustn’t make again. “What I meant was, it’s best that I walk home from the alleyway alone.”

  Alec said nothing in answer. Threading a hand through his tangled hair, he brushed it off his brow, setting off tiny glints of gold.

  Fool’s gold, she told herself.

  And yet the silky softness of the strands still felt imprinted on her fingers. Fisting her hands, she shoved them in the pockets of the cloak.

  “Ready?” he asked, after selecting a wide-brimmed hat and pulling it low on his head.

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s be off. Stay close.”

  Intent on following his lead, Caro gave little heed to the crumpled paper brushing against her knuckles. It wasn’t until it gave off a soft crunch, crunch as she darted into the back stairwell that she quickly pull
ed it out and stuffed it down her bodice to silence the sound.

  God forbid that she be the cause of tripping up their plan of escape. She had caused enough trouble for one afternoon.

  Thankfully, they made it safely out of the house and into the shadowed alleyway without being spotted. From there, it proved a quick journey to the Milsom Street egress, their only encounter being with a tiger-striped tomcat who had just caught a mouse.

  “Here we are,” whispered Alec. He ventured a look up and down the street as she shrugged off the concealing cloak and handed it over. “There’s no one around.”

  “Then I had best be going.”

  “Be careful.” He turned, and after a tiny hesitation reached out to catch an errant curl and tuck it behind her ear. “You are sure that the eagle is well hidden—”

  “Yes, yes.” His touch sent a shiver skating across her skin. “It’s safely stowed at the bottom of my reticule, under my books and pastries.” They had retrieved her things from their hiding place, and she was grateful for the brim of her bonnet, which afforded some shelter from his probing gaze. “And I’ve a good hiding place within my armoire. Rest easy—no one will find it.”

  “As I said, it mustn’t remain in your room after tonight,” he growled. “Tomorrow, we must contrive to hide it elsewhere.”

  “As to that, I thought of an idea while we were walking.” Caro edged closer to the opening. “First thing in the morning, I shall send a note to Andy suggesting that he drive Isobel and me to the Abbey ruins outside of town for a picnic. You could ride by, as if by chance, and we can take a walk and find some suitable place to stash it.”

  “Abbey ruins, purloined treasures, hidden secrets.” He, too, was shadowed by his hat, but Caro thought she detected a quirk of a smile. “You are stealing a page from your sister’s novels.”

  “Actually, I’m writing my own adventure,” she murmured. “Anna’s heroines are far more clever and…”

  And capable.

  They never made egregiously awful mistakes, they never turned into watering pots, they never felt like bumbleheaded fools.

  “Suffice it to say, they always triumph in the end. The ending of this story remains to be seen.” Caro squeezed back a tear. “I had better be going, before we are spotted.”