Tempt Me Twice

by Olivia Drake

  He couldn’t get enough of her...his Kate. She was a fire in his blood, a feast to his starving senses. He surrounded her with his body, his hands memorizing her supple curves. When he moved his lips to her cheek, she arched to him in wanton innocence, her desire toppling his strong defenses.

  “God help me,” he muttered, the words torn from him. “I want to make love to you, Kate. Here. Now. And damn the consequences.”

  The Guardian’s Demand

  Kate heard him as if through a dream. She loved his embrace, the pressure of his body against hers. This was Gabriel, the man who had fascinated her since girlhood, the man who made her body kindle with the fire of passion.

  Yet her mind whispered against him. Nothing but shame could ever come of surrendering to him. Gabriel was a libertine, a reckless adventurer who walked a wild path. He would use her and then go on his merry way.

  But would it be so wrong to steal a little pleasure for herself? To just once know the fullness of womanhood? She had been the rational, principled one for so long, and now she wanted to let go, to give in to her yearnings. Before her courage could falter, she murmured, “I want you, too, Gabriel.”

  He reared back, his eyes a fathomless blue in the dim light. “Enough to go to bed with me?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation.

  He studied her with that hard, burning gaze. “I won’t just caress you this time, Kate. I’ll take your innocence.”

  “I’ll give it to you of my own free will.” Reaching up, Kate removed his powdered wig and dropped it onto a nearby hassock. His hair was mussed as if he’d just rolled out of bed. A few dark, sun-kissed strands dipped onto his brow, giving him the appearance of a scoundrel after a long night of sin. Oh, how she wanted to sin with him. She pressed her lips to his jaw, the tip of her tongue flicking out to taste his warm, salty skin.

  Inhaling a breath through his teeth, Gabriel caught her face in his palms. “Once we start this, there’s no turning back. So for God’s sake, tell me to leave.”

  “I’ll die if you leave.” Bemused by her audacity, she loosened his cravat, then tugged off the starched linen strip and let it fall to the floor. She slid her fingers inside his collar, shaping her hands around the breadth of his muscled shoulders. Obeying instinct, she pressed her body to his. “Don’t refuse me, Gabriel. I’m no longer sixteen.”

  A wolfish appreciation entered his eyes, the force of his stare raising prickles over her skin. “So you aren’t.”

  With that, he peeled off her long white gloves and kissed the inner crook of her elbow, his mouth nipping at the tender skin he exposed. Infused with delight, Kate bit down on her lip to stifle a gasp.

  Turning her, he wrested open the buttons of her gown, then thrust his hands inside, letting the garment slither to the floor in a sea-green puddle. His palms rubbed possessively over her midriff before ascending to her bosom, kneading her through the chemise and corset. As his fingers brushed her flesh, she was helpless to stop a shiver.

  “Cold?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear.

  A fever burned in her secret depths. A heat born of passion for him. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Never with you.”

  It was true. Gabriel had always possessed the power to awaken her feminine yearnings. She had longed for him since the moment of their first meeting four years earlier, when he’d been an itinerant artist whom Papa had brought home for dinner. Back then, she’d been awestruck by Gabriel’s skill with a pen, and she’d dreamed of those clever fingers tracing over her body. As he did now.

  He removed her corset and chemise, rendering her naked except for garters and stockings. She gasped when his hungry mouth closed over her breast, his tongue laving her, causing a tension so sharp and sweet she felt on the verge of swooning. He shifted to her other breast, suckling, then blowing lightly on the dampness. The sensation seared like liquid fire down to her most private place, where a gathering moisture left her soft and ready.

  But he didn’t assuage that primal ache. He unpinned her hair so that it tumbled in an untidy mass down to her waist. Burying his face in the curls, he breathed deeply. “The day I came back to Larkspur Cottage, you had your hair down. I wanted to carry you straight to bed.”

  He had? Kate remembered how self-conscious she’d felt after Jabbar had stolen her comb, and Gabriel had seen her in unflattering disarray. “My hair is too wild.”

  He flashed her a roguish smirk. “Wildness becomes you, darling.”

  With charming subservience, he knelt before her and untied her garter, rolling the wisp of silk stocking down her thigh, over her knee, and off her calf and foot. He did the same to her other leg, kissing her bare skin along the way, finding sensitive spots that she hadn’t known existed.

  Boneless with desire, she braced her hands on his broad shoulders to keep from dissolving into a pool at his feet. She could scarcely believe that she stood naked before Gabriel, that he could stir such an eager tumult inside her. Crouched on his knees, he looked up at her in an appreciative survey.

  A belated flush of vulnerability swept over Kate. Without thinking, she covered herself with her hands.

  “You’re too lovely to hide.” He caught her wrists so that he could view the curves and valleys that no other man had ever seen. “My beautiful, perfect Kate.” Leaning forward, he planted a kiss...there.

  A moan of helpless surrender rose from her depths. Her knees buckled, but Gabriel was there to catch her. He stood up, taking her weight against him, his lips nuzzling hers.

  The fabric of his coat caused a delightful abrasion against her bare bosom. She felt as if she’d been born for this pleasure, as if she hadn’t been truly alive until Gabriel had probed the deep reservoir of passion hidden within her.

  He swung her up in his arms and strode to the bed, laying her down on the cool satin coverlet, bending over to kiss her before he drew away again. She opened slumberous eyes to see him stripping off his clothing, his movements feverish, the filmy bedcurtains lending him a dreamlike quality.

  Kate rolled onto her side, her breasts heavy beneath the scant protection of her unbound hair. Like a wanton woman, she felt free to fulfill her desires. And all she desired was Gabriel.

  She watched hungrily as he shed the footman’s disguise, pitching his coat and shirt to the floor. The lamp in the window cast a glow over the sculpted musculature of his shoulders. The sprinkling of dark hair on his chest narrowed to an enticing line that disappeared into the waistband of his breeches. When he placed the dueling pistol on the bedside table, she felt a fierce satisfaction at the success of their mission. Tonight they celebrated their triumph in finding the goddess.

  The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat down to kick off his shoes and stockings. Only then did she notice his lower back, where several livid scars marred his smooth skin. Newly healed wounds.

  Her insides coiled into a painful knot. In that moment she realized how severely he’d been injured on the night of her father’s death. And she hadn’t trusted his word on that.

  Crawling across the bed, she knelt beside him. With trembling fingers, she lightly traced one upraised mark.

  He flinched away.

  Stricken, Kate drew back her hand. “Did I hurt you?”

  His gaze, dark with secrets, flashed over her. “Of course not. You startled me.”

  Had she reminded him of the attack? Remorseful, she bent down to soothe his scars with her lips. With a little tremor in her voice, she murmured, “You could have died that night, Gabriel.”

  “Perhaps I should have.”

  His eyes revealed a stark self-loathing, the proof that he’d endured more than physical wounds. In a rush of understanding, Kate saw beyond the insouciant charmer to the tormented soul inside him. He felt responsible for the tragic events of that night. So acutely that he despised himself.

  “You mustn’t speak so.” Sliding her arms around his bare torso, she pressed her cheek to his warm back and let the words pour from her
heart. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”

  She didn’t dare try to untangle the powerful emotions that wrenched at her. She knew only that she craved his vitality, his strength. As much as she resisted it, a dangerous thought flitted through her mind. Was she falling in love with Gabriel?

  Then she could think no more as he reacted with stunning swiftness. Twisting around, he came down on her, covering her with his hard, virile form. Only his breeches kept him from utter nakedness.

  Kate reveled in the sensation of skin against skin, his expansive chest firm against her breasts. As his mouth trapped hers in another long and luscious kiss, she clung to him in trembling anticipation. Looping her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers into the density of his hair. Though his large body nearly crushed her, she couldn’t get close enough to him. She lifted her hips in mindless entreaty, wanting, aching, needing.

  “Gabriel, please,” she whispered. “Touch me.”

  “Patience,” he murmured against her mouth. “You’ll have all you desire...and more.”

  More? How could there be more than the marvelous sensations he’d aroused in her the last time they’d lain in this bed? She wanted him to stroke her again, craved it with an indelicate greed. But he seemed determined to savor the seduction, kissing her breasts and throat and belly, his head bent over her, the lamplight picking out the dark gold strands in his brown hair. Like an adventurer in uncharted territory, he explored every inch of her skin until she squirmed beneath him, her passion mounting to a fever pitch. She explored him, too, seeking out the solid contours of him, so beautifully different from her own softness.

  His weight lifting, Gabriel peeled off his breeches and flung them aside. Then he reached for a pillow, yanked off the linen case, and tucked it beneath her.

  Half-dazed, she blinked at him. “What—?”

  He brushed a tender kiss to her brow. “A woman can bleed a little her first time, love.”

  Her heart melted at an astonishing revelation. Did he love her? Or did he speak such platitudes to all his women? Then he caressed her between the legs, and any doubts or fears she might have felt vanished in a torrent of intense pleasure. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to his masterful touch. His slow, torturous stroking made her desire coil tighter and tighter, so that she strained upward, her breath coming in panting whimpers. She became a creature of pure sensuality, striving for release from the exquisite tension.

  Even as the glorious spasms exploded inside her, his hands grasped her hips to hold her still, and through the extremity of rapture, she felt a heated pressure filling her. With one smooth thrust, he broached the barrier of her virginity. She cried out, the sting of his entry somehow sharpening the fading ripples of pleasure.

  Though his chest heaved and his breath came swift and harsh, he held her gently, anointing her face with soft kisses. “I was too rough. Are you in pain?”

  “No,” Kate sighed, barely able to articulate. “You feel...wonderful.”

  Instinctively, she tilted her hips to take him deeper inside herself. Her hands skimmed up the corded muscles of his back to touch his face, her fingertips absorbing his chiseled features, the stubble of whiskers. The fervor in his gaze reached past the bitterness and pain to a place hidden deep inside her, a place she hadn’t known existed until tonight. She felt one with Gabriel in a bond that went beyond the physical act of joining. It was as if their souls had merged as well as their bodies.

  He began to move in her, slow and easy. A sheen of sweat dampened his skin, and she sensed the effort it took to hold himself back. In the semi-darkness, his face bore a look of relentless masculinity.

  “I’ve wanted you...dreamed of you...ever since I found you in my bed four years ago.” His lips nuzzled her cheek; then he lifted his hand to brush back her hair and kiss her ear. “You’re mine now, Kate. Mine alone.”

  A wild elation leapt in her. Right or wrong, she rejoiced in his possessiveness. “You’re mine, too, Gabriel.”

  He groaned, his movements surging harder, faster, elevating her to unbearable heights. Clutching at him, she turned her head on the pillow, desperate for release from the surfeit of sensation. At last, when she could bear no more, he reached between them and with one stroke of his hand, she shattered with bliss. She was dimly aware of Gabriel stiffening in the throes of exultation, hoarsely growling her name.

  Gabe lay in a hedonistic sprawl over Kate. The vast contentment he felt left no room for regrets. He’d lost control, he’d done the unforgivable, he’d taken her virginity. He’d doomed them both with this act. Yet a foolish part of him wanted to crow in triumph.

  Shifting slightly, he smoothed his hand over her hip and waist, her skin like warm silk. “Well, Miss Katie. We’re quite a match, you and I.”

  Her long lashes shaded soft green eyes. “Isn’t it always...like that?”

  “It’s life’s greatest pleasure. But I never thought—” He’d never thought the act could be so earth-shattering with Kate. He’d never imagined he could feel this dangerous need that went beyond the physical. But he couldn’t admit that aloud. “I never thought I’d find myself in bed with my ward.”

  “You’re not my guardian,” she said rather lazily.

  Gabe curved his palm around her breast, a perfect mound of creamy flesh. “Yes I am,” he said, his thumb flicking across the pink tip. He watched it tighten, enjoyed her sigh. “And it puts me in a peculiar dilemma.”

  Contented as a purring cat, she murmured, “Mm?”

  He forced himself to concentrate, to say what must be said. “I’m the adventurer who deflowered you. As well as the man whose sworn duty it is to protect your honor.”

  “I absolve you of all responsibil—” Kate gasped as he slid his hand downward over her belly to the place where they were still joined. “Gabriel, stop. You’re making it impossible for me to think.”

  He obeyed, though he let his hand cover her mound in an unsubtle statement of ownership. “Forgive me,” he said, not meaning it in the least. “The adventurer wants to make love to you again.”

  She smiled at that, the coquettish smile of a woman who knows how to entice a man. Her fingertips glided down the sweat-dampened muscles of his chest. “Why doesn’t he?”

  His chest expanded in a deep breath. Her willingness didn’t make it any easier to act honorably. To take the leap he’d sworn to avoid. With a wry grimace, he leaned down and kissed the tip of her pert nose. “Because the guardian insists upon a betrothal first.”

  The Lost Button

  Touring the castle with Sir Charles, Meg fancied herself a grown-up lady escorted by her suitor. The baron hadn’t paid such solicitous attention to her since they’d sat together and watched the tightrope dancers at the fair in Oxford. But here, she thought with a delicious thrill, they were alone.

  As they strolled along a ground-floor passageway toward the rear of the castle, he related tales of ghosts and eerie sounds witnessed by the servants. “You’re jesting,” Meg said flirtatiously, clinging to his strong arm. “I do believe you enjoy alarming me.”

  His white teeth flashed in an enigmatic smile. “If you’ve any doubts, ask my housekeeper. She swears she saw an apparition floating in the darkness of the dungeons.”

  “Perhaps she has poor eyesight.”

  “There’s one way to find out.” Sir Charles stopped, his celestial blue gaze gleaming in the meager light of the candlestick he held in his gloved hand. He indicated a doorway that loomed to their right. “That staircase descends to the dungeons. Shall we go explore for ourselves?”

  Meg turned her gaze to the narrow flight of steps that vanished into pitch-dark obscurity, and a lovely shiver tiptoed down her spine. While they’d viewed the library and the other formal chambers, Sir Charles had behaved like the perfect gentleman. Now, from his smoldering regard, she sensed he had other plans for her, perhaps an embrace in the darkness...or even a stolen kiss. With every scrap of her romantic heart, she yearned to experience those secrets of
womanhood.

  But Kate’s voice sounded in her mind. Sir Charles might appear to be a fine gentleman, but he is responsible for Papa’s death.

  Meg didn’t believe her, of course. Kate was always overly cautious, a fussbudget who cast a suspicious eye at all men. Yet a twinge of apprehension caught at Meg. “But I promised my sister that I wouldn’t trust you—” She swallowed the impulsive words.

  “Not trust me?” Sir Charles asked, a certain alertness on his patrician features. “Why would she say that?”

  “I—I’m sorry for how that sounded,” Meg faltered. “She said I wasn’t to go off with any man. Perhaps we should return to the ballroom.”

  Sir Charles sighed as if she’d disappointed him. “My dear Margaret. I thought you were different from the other ladies. I admired you for being the brave, adventuresome sort.”

  “I am! It’s just that...we’ll be all alone down there in the dungeons.”

  A tender warmth entered his gaze. Reaching out, he stroked his gloved fingers over her cheek. “Are you afraid, my dear?” he asked. “I’ll protect you from harm. You have my word as a gentleman.”

  His kind manner made her misgivings melt away. She leaned into him, drawn by his aura of affection. “I’m never afraid when I’m with you—”

  A missile exploded out of the gloom of the stairway. Something small and dark launched straight at Meg. Staggering back, Sir Charles cried out in surprise.

  Meg screamed. The creature leapt for her neck, throttling her with furry arms. In a panic, she reached up to free herself—and recognized the sturdy form of Jabbar.

  The chimpanzee babbled nonsense in a high-pitched, frantic tone. Aware that he was shivering, Meg stroked the back of his little shirt. “Why, darling! You nearly frightened me out of my wits. What’s the matter?”