by Wendy Vella
“Mr. Dillinger, I’m sorry, I was not expecting company and I’m afraid Luke and Bella have gone to visit friends briefly.”
She hurried to slip her feet back into her slippers, giving him only a glance at the pale, slender toes, before she then stood. There was no book on the table beside her or letters; in fact she appeared simply to be staring into the fire. Ace studied her face, saw the vulnerability that he had never seen before and then the darkening bruise on her jaw.
“Dear God.” He was at her side in seconds, his fingers on her chin. “This must hurt like the devil.”
“I-I, it is better now,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his wrist, but doing nothing to push his hand aside.
“No, it’s not,” he rasped. “From experience, I know it hurts like the devil.
Her lashes fluttered closed briefly. “Yes, it does, and in truth I’m quite tired of saying it doesn’t.” Her words were whispered and the smile that trembled on her lips was small. “I have no idea how you endured this during your time fighting, Mr. Dillinger. Yet another reason why I was deluding myself into believing I could ever climb into the ring with anyone.”
“You, my lady, are the strongest woman I know, and battles do not need to all be fought using strength.”
“I-I have always thought of myself as brave, Mr. Dillinger,” she said quietly. “However, today I was not. The fear that he would kill me and I would die there alone in that park has made me weak.” Her fingers tightened around his wrist. “I have never been so scared before.”
He closed his eyes briefly at the pain and fear he saw in her gray eyes.
“Not weak, my lady, only human like the rest of us. I felt some of your fear when my father told me what had happened. I made my driver race through the narrow streets to reach you so I could assure myself you were all right, that they were not lying to me.” He shouldn’t be speaking this way to her; he had no right to do so.
“Oh,” she sighed as he leaned closer.
“Tell me to leave you, my lady. Tell me to walk out the door and never return, as I fear what I am about to do is wrong.”
“I-I cannot.”
She was breathing fast now, and her eyes were wide as they held his. Ace rose and moved to close the door; he then returned to where she stood and took her hands in his.
“Why have you closed the door, Mr. Dillinger?” Her tone didn’t suggest she was concerned, it was merely a question.
“Ace or Oliver.”
“Pardon?” A line appeared down her forehead as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying.
“My name is Ace or Oliver. I would have you use one of them, but not Mr. Dillinger.”
“And my name is Thea,” she whispered. “Will you use that also?”
“Yes, but only when no one else can hear me.” The fingers inside his were shaking. This wasn’t some kind of miss-ish display. She felt what he did, the need to be close to each other.
“I saw you this morning, Thea, and you were laughing at my ineptitude whilst cantering. In fact, I believe you compared my skills to those of a six-year-old child.” Ace gave her a soft smile. “Yet here you sit, pale and hurting and many miles from that woman, and seeing you like this makes me ache. How I wish I could take your pain away.”
“I have rarely had reason to question the confidence that I walk through life with, Oliver.” She turned her hands over in his and he gripped them tighter. “I have been protected my entire life. Oh, I believed I had taken risks.” Her laugh held no humor. “Yet today I realized that was in fact not true, and in a matter of minutes, the life I believed I was in control of could have ended and there was little anyone could do about it.”
“You will have to trust me when I say that your reaction to what you believed a life-threatening situation is normal, and add that in a few days those anxieties will ease,” Oliver said.
She looked at him, her soft, gray eyes vulnerable.
“You sound as if you are talking from experience.”
“Perhaps,” Oliver said as he pulled her into his arms. This strong, beautiful woman was hurting, and he wanted to comfort her. He felt her fingers clench around his lapels as she pushed her face into his chest and heaved a shuddering sigh. Ace kissed the top of her head as he held her. She felt good in his arms, her head brushing his chin, her body pressed against his. Of course with that came the rush of lust he felt having her so close. Inhaling the orange blossom, he tried to control his body. This woman needed his comfort and nothing more.
“I’m sorry to be so pathetic.”
“I think a blow to the head and jaw would reduce most people to a pathetic state, therefore you have done nothing that you need apologize for. Although,” Ace added, “there was that moment yesterday when you called me hard-headed, and followed it up with several unflattering descriptions of my intelligence.”
She gave a little snort. “I believe those words were spoken with regards to your equestrian skills, Oliver, not to your actual character.”
“Lord, you frightened me.” The words were dragged from him as he thought again about what could have happened to her today. Cupping her cheeks, Ace turned her face toward his. “And I do not frighten easily.”
Instead of answering him she wrapped one hand around the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss.
Sweet Christ, it was good to taste her again. He was gentle, ensuring he caused her no pain as he kissed her soft lips. Tilting her head, he took what she gave. Running a hand down her spine, Ace had never wanted to feel a woman’s skin more than he did hers. The fire inside him to have her was raging.
“Thea.” He pulled his mouth away, but she tugged it back until their lips joined again. He kissed her for long, heated seconds and then moved to her cheeks, which she lifted to allow him access to her neck.
“You taste so sweet,” he rasped, placing his lips at the base of her throat where her pulse fluttered.
“Don’t stop, Oliver.”
Her words drove him on, urging him to kiss the pale skin of her chest to the tops of her breasts. Her scent entrapped him, the need inside him now begging for release. His hand followed his mouth, stroking the soft, full flesh until his fingers touched her breasts through the bodice of her dress. He wanted more, needed to feel her skin in his palms. Easing the bodice lower, he kissed the soft swells he’d exposed, licking each with his tongue while her fingers gripped his head.
“Oh, my.” Her whisper was hoarse as she arched toward him. Lifting his head, he once again kissed her as his hands took over what his mouth had begun.
She was responsive, meeting his touch and kisses with eagerness, and Oliver moved his hands to her skirts, desperate to lift them and sink into her welcoming heat, and it was this thought that made him stop. He was under her spell, but not so deeply that the small, rational part left in his mind had stopped shouting at him to release her.
Softening the kiss, he slowly eased away, until he simply held her.
“I cannot apologize for that, Thea, not when we both wanted it, but I should.”
“You will not!” she demanded, pulling from his arms and to his regret, tugging up her bodice. She had the most beautiful breasts.
“I have said I will not.” He gently he stroked her cheek. “But we cannot let that happen again…ever.”
Her fingers stilled as he spoke.
“And yet we both like each other, and want to—”
Ace placed a hand over her mouth. “There can be nothing between us, Thea. You know that as well as I.”
“Why?” she demanded, pushing his hand aside. “You just kissed my breasts, and I may be an innocent, yet that is not the normal process of courtship.”
He took a step away from her, and it was one of the hardest he had ever taken.
“No, it is not, and I was wrong to have done so. But because of my birth, we could never be together as you would be giving up so much to do so, and your family would never allow it.”
“And I have no say in t
he matter? What if I want a life with you?”
He shook his head. “You would lose your title and position in society. Doors would be shut.”
“Actually, I would still be Lady Althea, but my last name would change. But that matters not,” she said quickly. “What matters is what I want…we want,” she added.
“No, I am not good enough for you, Thea.” She started so speak, so he shut her up by kissing her again, one last time simply because he could not resist her, and the thought of never holding her, never feeling her pressed against him made his chest hurt. Wrenching free, Ace took another step away. He could not control himself around her.
“Marry the man your brother wishes you to, Thea.” His words were harsh. “Marry him and be happy, because you deserve that.”
“But what if I want that with you? What if I can care for no other man but you, Oliver? Will you make me wed another?”
Her lips looked swollen from his kisses, her eyes filled with sensual heat that he was sure matched his own. Fisting his hands, he sucked in a deep breath before he touched her again.
“You say that now, but what happens when society closes its doors to you and your children, because your husband earned his living with his fists.”
He saw her hesitation, and it was enough for Ace to realize that he was doing the right thing. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to rein in his need. He was on fire, his body a furnace. He never lost control like that, hadn’t done so in many years—in fact, not since this woman had entered his life. It had to stop. He had to walk away from her now or he would not be able to, and that would be no good for either of them.
“Were I a gentleman, I would not have behaved as I just did,” Ace said.
“You are more a gentleman than many I know, Oliver.”
“We can no longer ride together, Thea, surely you see that?” Ace ran a hand through his hair again. “Nor will we spend any time together un-chaperoned.”
“Because you are not worthy of me, and have decided for both of us that we cannot have a future together?” She was angry now, her words cold and clipped.
“Yes.” Ace didn’t look at her because if he did, he’d want to hold her again. “Exactly that,” he added. “I bid you good evening, my lady.”
Stepping outside the front door seconds later, he inhaled a frigid blast of cold air and vowed this was the last time he would lose all reason over that woman. He would fight this feeling inside him, this constant need to see her smile and hear her voice. He had survived worse, and he would deal with this…whatever this was.
What if I can care for no other man but you, Oliver? Will you make me wed another?”
The thought of another man touching Thea made him want to roar; instead, he started walking up the street. He’d taken a hackney here, but he’d make his way home on foot. The exercise would hopefully clear his head and ease the lust still burning inside him. He had done the right thing, he reminded himself. She was a Duke’s daughter, and deserved more than a coal miner’s son.
He stalked through the dark London streets with lust, rage and frustration nipping at his heels, and his mind replaying what had just happened. The feel of her in his arms, her lips pressed to his. Why was it her, Lady Althea Ryder, who had made him feel such passion, such need? He wanted her—it was that simple. He wanted her body, her mind and her sharp tongue, but he could not have her.
What if I can care for no other man but you, Oliver? Will you make me wed another?”
Shaking his head, he tried to dislodge her words and the image of someone other than he touching the soft, pale skin of Thea’s breasts.
“Stop!”
The three men before him all held pistols. Looking around, Ace realized he was about ten minutes from his house, and the lane he had walked down was empty of carriages and people. His thoughts had been so filled with Thea that he’d walked without awareness, and Ace rarely did that. He was a man with a past and with that came enemies. He had an uneasy feeling one of those was behind this, especially after Alex and Ben Hetherington had told him that they believed someone had deliberately spooked his horse the day it had bolted in the park.
“You’ll come with us without a fight, or I’ve instructions to put a bullet in your leg and drag you there, Mr. Dillinger,” one of the men said, confirming his thoughts by using his name.
“Who has instructed you?” Ace said calmly. He was sorry they had pistols, because he felt like a fight, a mean, dirty one that would have gone some way to taming the raging beast inside of him.
“Don’t talk, just do what we say and we won’t hurt you.”
“What if I don’t want to come with you?”
“We’ll shoot you.” The man who spoke stood in the middle of the three. It was dark and the distance between them meant he couldn’t make out any of their features. Ace was sure they were relying on him being intimidated enough to simply yield, because accuracy with a pistol, at such a distance, was not a certainty.
“Is your aim good?” Ace bent his knees slightly as he spoke. To his left, he knew there was a narrow opening that led through to another lane. He’d used it before when he was in a hurry and it would prove a good escape route now.
“Shall we find out?” The man lifted his pistol to take aim, and Ace made his move. Diving sideways, he heard the bullet hit the wall beside him. On his feet seconds later, he started running.
“After him!”
They were quick, but Ace was quicker. His long legs soon had him ahead of them. He ran down lanes, ducked behind buildings and when he was certain he’d lost them, he made his way home.
He’d done the right thing distancing himself from Thea, because now someone wanted him dead he did not want her within five feet of him. Rubbing his chest, he tried to ease the burning sensation thoughts of not seeing her had created. He may have done the right thing; however, he now just had to live with that choice.
After Oliver had left, Thea rested her head back on the chair, and closed her eyes. Sometime later, she was still in that position. She realized that had Oliver Dillinger decided to take matters further, she would have lost her innocence without a murmur of protest. Such was the effect the man had upon her. She’d never felt like that about anyone before, and she was almost certain she would not again for some time, if ever, which left her with the dilemma of Oliver Dillinger.
He had made it clear that he wanted no part of her future, and Joseph would more than likely concur with his sentiments, but Will…well, he may think differently. Not that anything would ever come of her feelings. Bloody man. How dared he walk away from her, like she was a simple-headed miss who did not know her own mind?
Thea was not sure exactly what she felt for him, as her feelings were too new; however, she knew they would strengthen given time, not wane, yet he was not willing to allow that to happen.
He was right in stating that if she were to wed a man like him, then she would no longer be part of the society. Bella had known this was to happen to her when she wed Luke, but had said she did not mind, as she could not live without him. Luke, however, had been a man with no title who had once worked in the Rossetter stables, not a man who made his living with his fists.
If she was honest with herself, there were some things in society she would miss, but also many she would not. Thea found the guidelines restrictive, and some of the people petty and small-minded.
Sighing, she remembered the feel of Oliver’s hands on her body, his lips kissing her breasts. The feelings he had created inside her were magnificent, and she was not foolish enough to believe that just any man would make her feel that way. The thought of not seeing him again, not spending those snatched moments riding side by side, sometimes so close their legs brushed, was almost a physical pain.
“It matters not, goose. The man you care for wants nothing further to do with you,” she reminded herself.
“Who are you talking to?” Bella walked into the room with her husband, and a surprise guest.
“
Hannah, how wonderful to see you!” Thea jumped to her feet and hugged the newcomer, pleased to have a distraction from her troubled thoughts.
“And you, Thea. I had to come by after seeing Luke and Bella this evening and they told me what had happened to you today. I am to leave London tomorrow. Therefore, I decided to follow them home now to see you.” Hannah held Thea away from her as she studied the bruise on her face. “Are you really all right, my dear?”
Hannah Wooller was slender and graceful and looked as every proper young lady should with her black hair elegantly wound onto her head and still in place, even after removing her bonnet. However, in her case, appearances were deceptive. Hannah was strong, determined and vocal when required, and was also, like her father, in trade. She was the co-owner of the boutique Phoebe, Bella’s sister, and Alex also owned.
“I am well, thank you, Hannah, and so pleased to have you call,” Thea said, taking her hand and leading her to a seat while Bella and Luke took the sofa.
“Yes, and if I had it my way I would be able to visit with you more, but my father has summoned me home early due to a relative arriving there. Therefore I must leave as I have already tested his tolerance enough.”
“But I thought you loved your home in the country,” Thea said, remembering Phoebe, telling her that.
“I do, and am looking forward to the break. However, as Phoebe is not due to arrive for four days to oversee the seamstresses who have dozens of orders for gowns, then I fear they will not get finished.” Hannah frowned.
“Can Alex not do it?” Luke said entering the conversation.
“He is laid low with an illness that I’m sure he is faking,” Hannah growled, “and also due to leave town in three days.”
“Surely not,” Thea laughed. It was well known that Hannah and Alex tended to argue frequently, and did not give each other any quarter.
“No, you are right. He is genuinely sick,” Hannah sighed. “I visited him, and he did look horrid. His nose is red, and his skin pale and sweaty. Of course he is also a man and therefore unable to function with an illness.”