by Anna Bennett
At least for now. And if they only had six days left together, she intended to make the most of them.
“I never told anyone about that night,” he said, “until now.”
“And the sky didn’t fall, did it?” she teased. “We’re still here, together. And I still want you.” More than ever.
Heat flared in his eyes. “What I want,” he drawled, “is to strip this gown off of you. Is that real enough for you?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “It’s a very good start.”
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Alex heaved a sigh of relief. He’d told Beth his darkest secret, and she hadn’t run away. Instead, she gazed up at him like he was some sort of god.
“You must tell me what to do,” she said softly.
He brushed his lips over the satin-smooth skin of her neck and loosened the laces of her gown. “Follow your instincts,” he instructed.
Slowly, he tugged her dress down, over her breasts, hips and legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he went. She removed the pins from her hair, and he ran his fingers through the long, silken tresses. He stripped off her corset and camisole and tossed them over his shoulder, not caring if they ever found them again.
At the sight of her lying naked beside him, his mouth went dry. “Beautiful.”
When he ran a hand over the curve of her hip and around her bottom, she moaned and nuzzled against his chest. “When we’re together like this,” she said, “I forget all my worries. I only think of you … and me … and us.”
He swallowed as he digested what she’d said. He felt that way too.
“Beth, there’s something else you should know.”
She blinked at him and propped herself on her elbow, her skin glowing in the moonlight. “I’m listening,” she said huskily. “But you’re not going to scare me off.”
“Let’s hope not.” He released the curl he’d been twining around his finger and put a little distance between them—just so he wouldn’t be distracted. “Earlier we were talking about how sometimes reputations are undeserved.”
“I remember.” She smiled seductively.
He covered her delectable curves with a blanket so he could follow the thread of the conversation. “I’m afraid that my reputation as a legendary lover … falls squarely in the undeserved category.”
She feigned surprise. “Do you mean to say there’s a man somewhere in London who is more skilled than you?” Playfully arching a brow, she said, “If so, I must insist you find him and bring him here at once.”
“There are many men more skilled than I,” he admitted. “But no one who will work harder to please you. I haven’t lain with a woman in quite some time.”
She tilted her head, puzzled. “Forgive me for saying so, but your exploits are widely known and … well documented.”
“They’re falsely documented—at least for the past few years.”
She nodded as though understanding had dawned. “Is this a sweet but misguided attempt to somehow convince me that I’m different or more special than the legions of other women you’ve bedded? Because, honestly, it’s not necessary. In fact, I’d rather not think of them at the mo—”
“There are no legions. I’m not entirely without experience, but accounts of my prowess … have been greatly exaggerated.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded, then sat up, holding the blanket to her chest. “Forgive me. It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s only that you seem so … Well, on the occasions that we’ve been together, you seemed so knowledgeable … that is, you knew exactly how to … Blast it all, you knew what you were doing.”
“I’m glad you thought so. I suppose I know something of the mechanics.” But his previous sexual experiences had been futile attempts to escape the pain of his past and fill the emptiness in his soul. Knowing how to pleasure a woman was not the same as knowing how to love. “You may have noticed that I have a habit of pushing people away. I never met a woman who I truly longed to make love to. Until you.”
“I must say”—she shook her head in disbelief—“I never dreamed that so many people could be wrong about you.”
“Why not?” he said. “Look at all the people who are wrong about you. As you know all too well, these rumors take on a life of their own.”
“Why didn’t you refute them?”
“No gentleman likes to call a lady a liar, and I’m not sure anyone would have believed me. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a hardship to be known as a legendary lover.” Not like being labeled a wallflower. He shot her an apologetic smile. “I never set out to deceive anyone. But I certainly didn’t go out of my way to set the record straight.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not certain you could have.”
“I suppose I could have placed an advertisement in the paper.”
Scrunching her nose adorably, she smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“I wanted to tell you before now, but it’s difficult to work into conversation.”
She looked up at him with clear blue eyes. “So many women have claimed to have been with you … and most of them lied. Why? Why would they do that?”
“I suspect some craved the notoriety, others wished to make their husbands jealous. Some just didn’t want to be the odd woman out.”
“So they were using you.” Her cheeks flushed as though she were outraged on his behalf. “And I am no better, because I accepted their false claims as truth. Even before I knew you personally, I took the rumors at face value … and now I feel awful.”
“Please, don’t.” He clasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it as he tried to read her face. Did she still want him? After all, she had assumed that this—her first sexual experience—would be with a man who knew a hundred different ways to pleasure a woman. Instead, she was getting a man who’d learned a few tricks behind hedges, in dark closets, and on remote corners of terraces.
He knew the basics—in other words, just enough to know what he didn’t know.
And he knew even less about love … but he was starting to understand a few things.
“I told you the truth because you said that you wanted everything between us to be real. I do too.”
“You know … I think I’m relieved. If I bumble something, the error won’t be as glaring.”
He chuckled softly and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “There is no way you could bumble anything. Believe me.”
“We shall see.” She let the blanket drop and leaned in for a kiss. Her soft hair tickled his shoulders, and the peaks of her breasts brushed against his bare chest, instantly reigniting his desire.
“I’ll try to make it good for you, Beth,” he murmured. God help him, he would. And he’d take care not to spill his seed inside her.
“I already know it will be heavenly,” she said. “You seem to have a strange power over me.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Growling, he stood, stripped off his trousers, and rejoined her on the bed. He explored every inch of her satin skin with his mouth, lingering on the places she liked—the hollow at the base of her throat, the soft underside of her breasts, and the flat planes of her belly.
“Do you ever wish,” she breathed, “that you could bottle up a feeling and save it?”
He wedged a leg between her thighs and rocked against her. “You don’t need to bottle it up. There’s plenty more.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes. “Perhaps. But I shall savor the moment nonetheless.”
For his part, he savored everything about her. Her candor, her fearlessness, her kindness … and the seductive way she arched her body toward his. The scent of her skin drove him wild, even as the earnestness of her expression touched something deep inside him.
His pulse galloped out of control. He wanted her—now. But he knew the act would be more pleasurable for her if she was ready. So he kissed a path around her navel and lower … and lower.
“Alex?” Her fingers were splayed through his hair, and her leg mu
scles tensed.
Damn. He wished he knew what the hell he was doing. “I’ve never done this before … but I think it will make you feel very good.”
She frowned slightly. “What about you?”
He shot her a wicked grin. “I think I’ll like it too.”
With her tangled hair and flushed cheeks, she had never looked more vulnerable—or more desirable. “Well … then … I’m willing to try.”
More determined than ever to please her, he took his cues from her soft moans and sighs. God, he loved the taste of her and the way she quivered with need.
“Oh.” She opened her thighs wider, and he knew he’d found the right spot. The right amount of pressure. The right rhythm.
Her head fell back and she whimpered softly. As though she were on the brink.
Her arousal mirrored his own. He needed to bring her bliss. To make her his. To make this a night she’d remember always.
He could feel the crescendo starting inside her. It was in the arch of her back and the flush of her skin; the tremor of her muscles and the pitch of her cries. As release took her, he stayed with her, seeing it through.
And when it was over, he laid beside her and hauled her into his arms, feeling stunned.
Like he’d just been a part of a small miracle.
Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
Beth’s legs felt like jelly—but in the best possible way. “For a novice,” she said to Alex, “you’re very good.”
He snorted and playfully nibbled her neck. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
She sighed, loving the way the stubble on his jaw lightly abraded her skin. “No secrets,” she chided. “You once promised that you’d always be truthful with me.”
His eyes clouded momentarily. “To the extent that I can.”
“I am not entirely certain what that means,” she said. “But at the moment I am not sure I care. Our time together is limited—I would not waste it parsing words.”
“How would you like to spend it?” He caressed her breast and bent his head to take the tip in his mouth.
“More of that would be nice,” she managed to say as desire pooled in her belly once more.
He slipped a hand between her legs. “And how about this?”
“Mmm. More of that too,” she breathed. “But mostly I want you. All of you.”
At last, he moved over her, his arms braced on either side of her head. With his dark hair hanging across one eye and his biceps flexed, he exuded power. The hunger in his eyes made her shiver deliciously.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
In answer, she wound her hands around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss.
He pressed his hips to hers, and the hard length of his arousal nudged at her entrance.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said, swallowing—and she could see what his restraint cost him.
“You’re not,” she assured him, “and you won’t.” On the contrary, the delicious pulsing had started again, making her long to rub against him.
He positioned himself and slowly eased in, filling her. It was an odd sensation … but when Alex started moving again, she moaned and wrapped her legs around his.
A sheen of perspiration shone on his forehead, and concern lined his face. “You’re all right?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes,” she said, touched. She swept his hair off his forehead.
“I don’t want this to end.”
She warmed at his admission. “This is only our first time. It’s already better than I’d dared to hope.”
“You should … raise your expectations,” he said breathlessly, as he began to move inside her. As though struggling to maintain control, he closed his eyes tightly and rocked against her in the rhythm that made her blood pump faster.
This was not the ethereal stuff of poems—but better. Much better. Hot, sticky, and raw. Slick skin, fevered panting, pure desire. Real.
The pulsing in her core began to build, and she grasped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh. She arched closer, taking him deeper, urging him on.
Cursing, he opened his eyes and looked into hers. He thrust harder and faster, and when she could tell he was about to lose control, he pleaded, “Come with me, Beth.”
Those four whispered words pushed her over the edge. Alex went still.
She cried out as the first wave crashed through her body, starting at her center and rolling through her limbs.
But before the ripples had subsided, he suddenly left her. He pulled out, turned on his side, and caught his seed in his hand.
They laid there for several moments, catching their breath and gazing at the ceiling.
Making love to Alex had been beyond exhilarating, but now that their passion had been spent, she felt suddenly nervous and awkward.
He looked at her guiltily. “I didn’t want to risk…”
“Of course not,” she answered quickly. She was grateful that he’d thought to avoid getting her with child. “Shall I fetch a towel?”
“No, stay.” He rolled off the bed, padded across the room to the washstand, and cleaned himself with a damp towel. When he was done, he brought her a fresh cloth. “Would you like me to…”
She shook her head and plucked the cloth from his fingers. “Thank you, but I can manage.”
As though he sensed her self-consciousness, he turned to look out the French doors. Naked as the day he was born, he seemed to have no qualms parading before her. As she washed away the evidence of their lovemaking, she admired his broad shoulders, lean hips, and muscled thighs.
The burns were in plain sight too, and now that she knew the full story behind them, they seemed even more terrible.
She slipped out of bed, hung her cloth on the edge of the washbasin, and went to his side. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she gazed through the glass panes at the night sky. “Is the dragon out tonight?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “It’s too cloudy to see him, but he’s there.”
She wanted to ask him what this night that they’d spent together meant to him and whether it changed anything. She wanted to know if she had pleased him and whether his mind was spinning as fast as hers. But there was every chance that she wouldn’t like his answers. And she didn’t want to risk putting a damper on the cozy, intimate mood.
So, like a coward, she avoided questions. For now. “Let’s go back to bed and rest a while before dawn breaks,” she suggested.
“You sleep.” He nudged her toward the bed. “I think I’ll remain awake for a while.”
Returning to bed was less appealing if he wasn’t going to join her. Pouting, she said, “There’s no need to stand guard, you know. The doors and windows are locked. No harm will come to us tonight.”
“I wouldn’t have thought any harm would come to us on the balcony either, but it almost did. I don’t know who the enemy is, and I can’t anticipate his next move, but I swear I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”
“Couldn’t you protect me while we’re in bed?” she ventured.
“No,” he growled. “I’d be tempted to do other things.”
Frustrated by his stubbornness, she crossed her arms. “Fine. If you aren’t going to lay with me for a while, I may as well return to my own bedchamber.” She made a halfhearted attempt to find her chemise and corset, but he clasped her wrist in his hand.
“Go, if that is what you truly wish,” he said. “But I would prefer it if you stayed here. With me.”
If he hadn’t asked so earnestly, and if there hadn’t been a slight catch in his voice, she would have been strong enough to resist him, but as it was …
“Very well. But you must promise not to laugh at any odd faces I make in my sleep. And do not mention it if I snore.”
Chuckling, he gave her one, last knee-melting kiss and squeezed her bottom. Then she slipped between the cool sheets, feeling deliciously scandalous without her nightgown.
“I’ll wake you when it’s
time to return to your room,” he assured her.
“You could always wake me earlier if you wanted to…” she said suggestively.
“Sleep well.”
Blast. But she drifted off quickly, and her dreams were full of all sorts of lovely, naughty things.
* * *
At breakfast the next morning, Beth attempted to make polite conversation with the dowager.
Which was difficult to do while the duke sat across from her, looking impossibly handsome in a perfectly tailored, dark blue jacket.
And it was particularly difficult to do while remembering him naked and moving above her.
“I declare,” the dowager said. “I’ve never seen Elizabeth eat half as much in one sitting. You must be famished, dear. Have another helping of ham.”
Alex shot her a wicked look. “How odd. Coincidentally, I find that my appetite is also larger than usual this morning.”
“There’s plenty of ham for you too.” The duchess clucked, shaking her head. “And while I’m thinking of it, do not forget that the painters will arrive this afternoon.”
Alex blinked over the rim of his coffee cup. “Painters? You never mentioned them.”
Oh dear. Beth was supposed to have informed him the day before but forgot due to any number of things, including jealousy over his nonexistent mistress, concern about his knife wound, and the bliss of her first sexual experience. She gave the duke a pointed look. “They can work around you. We’ll just have them cover all the furniture.”
“Not my desk,” he muttered. Turning to his grandmother, he said, “I thought you’d settled on wallpaper.”
“Of course I did,” she exclaimed slowly, as though speaking to a very young child, “but there is trim work, including the fireplace, mantel, and shelves. All of it needs a fresh coat of paint. I’ve chosen soft ivory.”
“Shelves?” he grumbled. “I have to move all my books?”
“Unless you’d like the painters to paint around them,” she quipped.
“Fine with me,” he bluffed. Or did he?
Exasperated, Beth huffed. “I’ll go in and pack them up—temporarily—after breakfast.”
“Why, thank you, Miss Lacey.” Alex smiled at her suggestively, crinkling his eyes at the corners, and she knew the direction of his thoughts mirrored hers: they had an excuse to steal a few moments together in his study.