Bianca melted into him again and even through her chemise and dress, he felt her nipple pucker under his palm. Satisfaction and desire rippled through him. He wanted more of her. If he were honest, he wanted all of her.
But he couldn’t have that without the promise of marriage. Was it just this morning he’d told his friends he wouldn’t marry? He had excellent reasons for that. A cruel father, a stutter that always made people withdraw from him, a history of being rejected by the very people who should love him. But those details seemed distant and meaningless in the warmth of her embrace.
“Bianca,” he murmured, his other hand at the top button of her dress. “I want…”
The carriage came to a stop. She bolted up, still in his lap but tipping back wildly from her sudden movement. Which caused her arms to flail. She caught his chin with the back of her hand, making Chris’s jaw snap closed. He steadied her in his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” she gushed, clasping his cheeks in both her hands. “Did I hurt you? I’m so clumsy.”
He held her tighter to his chest. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
She worried her lip looking down at him. “I just ruined the loveliest moment. Whenever I get nervous I can’t seem to control my own limbs. I’m such a—” But she didn’t finish as she heard a voice call from outside the carriage.
“Hello there,” a man called.
“Father,” Bianca hissed, clutching his neck tighter.
Rather than fear, something deeply satisfying settled in his limbs. Strange considering he held the man’s daughter in his lap. Why didn’t he care if they might be caught? Chris placed a soft kiss at the base of her neck. “Doesn’t he usually work long hours?”
Outside the carriage the driver called back. “Well hello, Mr. Moorish.”
“Yes,” she answered, frowning. “He must be concerned with all these new men about. Are we at Moorish Manor or on the road?”
“He should be,” he answered trailing his lips down her neck. Then he flicked open one curtain. “On the road.”
Bianca looked down at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted. “What are we going to do?”
“Continue kissing?” he asked hopefully.
“What if we’re caught? What if he asks who’s in the carriage?” She shrank into him, her forehead pressing to his. “What if we get back and he recognizes the carriage and realizes we’re alone. What if he asks me why we’re not chaperoned and—”
“Bianca.” He stopped her, now recognizing the pattern of her nervousness. “Just like today, if that happens, you won’t face it alone. I’ll be there with you.”
She looked into his eyes. “I believe you, but I also heard you this morning. You made it clear that you’d be leaving.”
Was that really the reason? She might be the first female in the history of the world not to attempt to trap a man in marriage. And to listen to him when he said he wasn’t marriage-minded. Was that why he suddenly wanted to get caught?
* * *
“You are darling. You know that, don’t you?”
His words made her breath catch as warmth filled her belly. “Really?” Her eyes fluttered closed. If he wasn’t careful, she might forget all her good intentions. Right now she intended to allow him to leave Seabridge Gate and consider him a wonderful learning experience. A time to gain confidence so that she might be able to face the rest of the world with a sense of self-worth. She’d use her newfound confidence to find a proper husband. “Don’t tease me.”
“Do I strike you as a man who teases?” He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Bianca, how do you not know how lovely you are?”
Her mouth opened and then closed again. “If you knew my sisters better, you’d see that I’m so much less—” She stopped, color filling her cheeks. “None of them would become the town jester.”
He drew in a deep breath. “That’s only because you’re so open, it makes it easy for other people to find your soft spots.” He kissed her again. It was slow and tender, the sort of touch that stole her breath.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, her long dark lashes brushing his cheeks. “Today with you has been so wonderful. I shall never forget you or what you’ve given me.” Then she straightened. “When you return to London will you remember me too?” He drew in a breath, about to answer when she covered his mouth with her fingertips. “Don’t answer that, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know.”
He kissed her gloved fingers. “I wish I could strip those things off.” He frowned against the fabric. “I want to taste your skin.”
She gasped in a breath as he gently moved her fingers from his lips. “Oh.” Her body responded to the words, imagining the feel of his lips on her hand. But her heart also twinged that he’d so quickly changed topics. Clearly he didn’t want to answer either.
Which is why his next words stole her breath. “Bianca Moorish, I will remember you forever,” he said, then captured her mouth again, giving her a long, leisurely kiss as the carriage once again began to move.
Was it always like this? She forgot all about her father, her worries, William, and even the future. Who cared if she married? Right now she was being deliciously…she searched for the right word. Ravaged? Not quite. Seduced? Not exactly. Educated. It had merit.
And when his hand came back to her breast, his very large hand, that covered every inch of the rounded flesh, she pressed into the touch, desperate for more. He kissed his way down her neck, peppering her chest with kisses until he reached the low cut of her neckline. With a small pull at the fabric, his tongue darted out and under, catching her nipple.
They both groaned and Bianca tightened her grip on his neck as tendrils of pleasure raced through her body. “Oh dear lord,” she gasped as he repeated the movement. “That feels so…”
“Wonderful,” he added in, tugging a bit at her sleeve to gain more access. “You taste like sun-kissed strawberries with a dollop of cream.”
He pushed her entire breast up out of her chemise and then sucked her nipple into his mouth. He stroked his other hand down her back, cupping her behind. Her head fell back and she arched into his mouth. She knew this wasn’t all there was to lovemaking but what she’d never understood was how good it would all feel. “What will you taste like?”
He pulled off her breast, his lips making a decided pop as the seal he’d created with suction let go. “I’ve no idea.”
“You smell like sandalwood,” she murmured, leaning back down to kiss his chin. His skin was rougher, marked with just a touch of stubble. “Warm and masculine with just a touch of sweetness.” Her lips caressed along his jaw. “You do look like a Greek statue with those shoulders and your narrow waist but you feel like—” She stopped, frightened by the single word that had come to mind.
“What?” he asked, turning his face so that her lips could kiss down his neck.
She’d been about to say home. She squeezed her eyes shut, wincing a bit as she started to sit up. Perhaps this lesson had gone too far. “Never mind,” she said as she started to push off his lap.
He held her hips, keeping her in place. “What do I feel like, beautiful? It’s all right. You can tell me.”
“Strong,” she whispered, swallowing down a lump. “But safe.” It was best she could do to describe her feelings without actually using the word that would very well frighten him away.
“Kiss me again, Bianca.” He leaned back against the seat, looking casual but an intensity glowed in his eyes.
She wanted to. Losing herself in his embrace was so tempting. “I should get home before anyone notices that I’ve…” Her words trailed off.
Her breast was still pushed out of the top of her dress and he palmed the flesh again, making her nipple stiffen against his palm. “In a minute.”
“Chris.” She attempted to concentrate as he massaged the sensitive flesh. “I’m trying to protect you. I know you don’t want to mar—”
“Beautiful Bianca,” he whispered as he drew her nipple in
to his mouth again. “I appreciate that so very much, but there is no need.”
Her brows drew together. No need? He’d spent the morning telling her he wouldn’t, under any circumstances, marry. And she most definitely did want to wed. What if this ruined her chances? They’d gone from what seemed like a bit of help and a lot of learning to a situation where she could easily be ruined. She pulled away again. “I’m not sure I’ve been clear.”
He raised a brow but he let her pull back this time. He frowned as she adjusted the neck of her dress. “I disagree. I think you have.”
“Well then,” She slowly pushed off his chest, backing up into her own seat. “I completely understand that you don’t wish to marry. I respect it and I am so happy that you’re helping me. But I do wish to marry. Very much. I want a family with lots of children and a nice home, I even want the cat.”
He pushed straighter, his frown turning very dark as his brows sunk lower over his eyes. “All right.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Being here with you like this…it risks my future.” Her hands came out in front of her. “I can’t do that, Chris. The whole point of stopping William’s gaggle of friends was for me to be able to find a husband.”
His hand flexed open and shut. “I see.”
“Your touch makes me feel so good but—” Her hands spread wider. “I have to remember what I want more than anything else.”
“Stop the carriage,” Chris called, rather louder than was necessary.
Her face paled. “Are you tossing me out?”
That made him smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. But I do think it best you walk from here. I’ll escort you to just before you’re home. That way no one sees us in the carriage alone.”
She gave a tentative nod as relief washed through her. But along with that relief was just a touch of disappointment. What had she hoped? He’d change his mind and offer marriage? She supposed she had wanted exactly that.
Chapter Nine
Chris walked back to the village, having sent the carriage on ahead. He couldn’t be still now. Not after what had just happened with Bianca.
Desire and irritation made his muscles twitchy and he quickened his pace. She wanted to marry. Of course, she did. She was a nice girl from a good family. But touching him was not part of her plan. Why did that feel like a rejection?
It wasn’t. She had every right to protect her reputation. But when he held her close, he forgot his stutter, didn’t remember how cruel his father had been, how mean the other children had acted. He forgot that he was dark and could never provide someone with a happily-ever-after. How could a man who had never been loved possibly make someone else happy?
He reached the edge of the square, his gaze fixing on the willow in its center. Perhaps he’d climb into its branches again and consider his feelings while he remembered rescuing Bianca.
How ridiculous that a grown man was about to go sit in a tree but he needed some clarity.
“Well look who it is,” a voice called from off to his right.
“Why, it’s Lord Craven.”
Chris looked over to see four men approaching. In the lead was a mussed-looking William, his clothing crumpled and dirty. An equally disheveled Fred just behind him along with two other men who were significantly cleaner.
“I see the two of you made up,” he said, straightening as they approached.
“Yeah, we made up.” Fred called. “And we realized the real problem that caused our fight.”
Chris stopped, his fists clenching. “You’re both assholes?”
“No,” William sneered. “You.”
Me?” Chris dropped his arms. “I made you treat a perfectly lovely girl like shit?”
William stopped. “We were just having a bit of fun.”
“She was the one who was silly enough to fall down at a dance.” Fred sneered.
Chris decided Fred would be the man he punched first. Right between the eyes.
William turned to Fred. “He’s right about that. She’s a Moorish and you’d best start leaving her alone.”
Fred’s lip curled further up. “She hit me right between the eyes.”
“You deserved it,” Chris answered. He knew the men were going to jump him at any moment. They had that cagey look, shifting, pacing. But he wasn’t afraid. He needed a good fight and taking on four men evened the odds. “You deserve worse and I…” He drove his fist into his palm. “Am just the man to give it to you.”
He didn’t need to say anything else, his words unleashed all four men. He didn’t care how many hits he had to take, he went for Fred first, popping the man right between the eyes. A cricket ball was heavy, but thrown by Bianca, it wasn’t likely to have done much damage. His fist, however, sent the man straight to the ground.
Chris exercised daily, including running and boxing. He was a head taller than all of them. One of the others got him with a good punch in the gut but he swung about, taking the fellow out with a strong uppercut.
A fist popped him in the eye and he knew it would bruise but he only bared his teeth, taking the other fellow down with a single right jab to the jaw.
Soon, only William stood in front of him. He had the decency to hold his fists up in front of him even if he did tremble with a bit of fear. “I liked her, you know.”
Chris dropped his fists down a bit as he scrunched his brow. “Liked her? Bianca?”
William nodded. “I only laughed when she fell because it was so cute. And then my friends started teasing her, so I thought I’d better join in or everyone would know how I felt.” The man’s hands dropped to his sides and his face fell too, his chin hanging down by his chest.
Chris’s gut did a flop and of all the hits he’d taken that might have been the worst. “You liked her?”
William scrubbed his scalp. “But you’re going to take her from me, aren’t you?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the young gent that next time he should treat Bianca with respect. Protect her rather than tease if he really wanted to win a girl over. William was young still and he’d learn in time.
Right now, William wasn’t worthy of her and, in Chris’s mind, never would be. Bianca deserved someone far better.
With that in mind, Chris pulled up straighter, looked the other man in the eye and said, “I am.”
* * *
Bianca picked at her skirts as she sat next to her sister, Adrianna, but her thoughts were far away. Well, not terribly far. Actually, they were in the village, resting on a certain lord as she wondered what he might be doing right this very moment. Was he at the cottage? Drinking at the tavern? Were there women there to take his mind off of her?
She shook her head. Of course there were females at Swan’s Neck Inn. And she wasn’t supposed to care. He’d been very clear and she’d been completely willing to allow him to kiss her and touch her, knowing full well he offered no marriage contract. The problem she hadn’t understood, until she’d allowed him liberties, was that not only did all that touching make her feel very good, but it also made her feel… rather bonded to him. Like he might be the one man in all the world to make her feel like this. And that frightened her, because while she knew what it meant to touch him, she also understood that he wasn’t hers to have.
“Are you all right?” Adrianna whispered as Juliet sang for the family.
She gave a stiff nod. About an hour prior, her father had sent out invitations for Chris and his friends to attend dinner with the Moorish family tomorrow night. Part of her was desperate to see him again while the saner part knew continued contact was a terrible idea.
She’d just touch him again and forget about the future she’d always wanted. This was why she’d spent time with him in the first place. To help secure her own future—with someone else, not him. “Nothing’s wrong,” she answered. Yet, now everything was wrong. She wanted him to be that man and couldn’t have him.
Adrianna turned toward her. “Really? You’ve been unusually quiet.”
�
��Quiet?” Her fists clenched in her lap. “Because normally I’m always talking? Babbling Bianca?”
Ophelia sat across from her with her new fiancé, the Duke of Rathmore. Both stared at her as she stood up, ready to flee the room.
“I didn’t say that.” Adrianna reached for her hand. “I don’t like you quiet like this. It’s disconcerting.”
Ophelia didn’t stand but she did lean closer. “What happened today?”
Bianca sat back down, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “I went to a cricket match with Juliet.”
“And Lord Craven,” Adrianna answered. “I should have gone with you. Was William teasing you again?”
“William? Teasing her?” Ophelia frowned. “Why on Earth would he do that?”
Bianca’s fingers slid up to her temples where she began to lightly massage them. “Because I am a silly girl who bumbles everything.” She opened her eyes, looking at Rathmore. “Be honest. Was that your first impression of me?”
The room seemed to stop and everyone looked at Rathmore as he stared back at her, his mouth slightly ajar.
She shook her head. “Forgive me, Your Grace. That was unfair.” She stood again. “Papa. I think I shall retire. I’m not…” She wanted to say feeling well but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “Myself.”
“Bianca.” Rathmore stood too, his classically handsome features creased in concern. “I think that you are kind, warm, and giving. I hesitated because I am wondering what has brought about your mood this evening?”
Juliet had given up singing and she crossed over to the settees. “Well for starters she beaned a cricket ball off Fred Goodfellow’s head.”
“What?” her father asked and then he stood too.
Her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not sorry. He’s mean to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” her father asked, his hands spreading out to his sides.
Where to Woo a Bawdy Baron: Romancing the Rake Book 3 Page 6