One Night with a Duke

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One Night with a Duke Page 26

by Sandra Masters


  “Aunt Min, what am I to do with you? You’re so much like Raven. You say one thing and then do the other. You give advice, and then you assume I don’t have the ability to make a decision. You tell me I have to marry. I don’t even get to select the prospect. And please don’t call me a child. I am a woman.” She snapped open her fan.

  “Of course, you get to select the man to whom you will be married to for the rest of your life. There is a crude remark that I hesitate to repeat to you, but it is: Never give away what you can sell.”

  “Aunt Min, you are impossible.”

  Her aunt answered with a laugh. “Yes, I am. The type of woman a man will not forget with ease, do you think?

  “Aunt Min, you blush. Your cheeks are crimson. Where is this gentleman you sneak away to corners to converse or was there an intimate reunion?”

  Minerva pointed to the side. “The tall gentleman with the silver gray hair in the dark silk coat. “I’d forgotten how good-looking he is.” She preened herself. “I have ignored your second question.”

  “Quite so, Aunt Min. Shall I give you a piece of advice, also?” She winked at her aunt. “Never give away what you can sell.” She sashayed off to dance the last waltz with Raven.

  The evening would soon come to an end. The men retired to the lounge for cigars and brandy while the women went to a small room for ratafia and lemonade. They rejoined each other to bid farewell and good night. Happy, tired and amused, she heard her name called, recognized Raven’s voice, and went to him.

  “I must say goodbye to my guests. Will you meet me in the boathouse? I will be there as soon as I can get away.”

  She hesitated.

  “Say yes, Samantha. It’s important.”

  “Yes,” she whispered at his implied command.

  “I’ll have one of my men escort you. The servant will wait at the base of the steps.”

  Samantha went to look for her aunt and knew she’d have to get out from under her watchful eye. Sighting her, she suggested they retire. Her aunt looked tired, and Samantha truly became concerned all these late nights would take a toll on her beloved lady.

  “Aunt Min, I will see you to bed,” They went up the long staircase. “We’ll leave right after we have breakfasted. I’ll wake you in the morning.” She opened her aunt’s bedroom door and motioned for the maid to attend to her. That would free her and allow time to escape to the boathouse.

  “Sweet dreams, Aunt Min.” Samantha closed the door, took a deep breath, exhaled. She hurried to the dressing room in her chamber, stepped out of her gown and removed her front-laced corset, burdensome undergarments and petticoats, except for her chemisette, stockings and slippers. Next she pulled up the gown by its sleeves. A quick glance in the mirror suited her image. Samantha descended the staircase that would take her to where one of Raven’s servants waited.

  In the dark, a man came out of the darkness. “Good evening, my lady.” Her pulse jumped at the momentary fright. He escorted her down the path without a word until they reached the boathouse, opened the door, and disappeared. She entered the room, closed the door and waited for Raven.

  The bright stars and the half-moon shone overhead. It contented her to wait in the dark for him, almost as if the blackness of the night became an old friend. Her heart brimmed with desire and want of him. What could be so important? Would it be goodbye forever? Sweet heaven, no.

  The sound of footsteps caught her attention, and for a moment she became frightened. It must be the darkness that bothered her. What if someone else came through the door? What if Prince Nicholas had followed her and then Raven came upon them. What would he think? She didn’t trust the Prince.

  The large oak door opened.

  “Samantha?”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Samantha heard her name. Her tension evaporated when she recognized Raven’s voice.

  “Why are you in the dark?” He closed the door and locked it.

  “It’s so peaceful here, it’s no wonder you love this place so much. I’ve been stargazing. There is a sense of serenity that assures you can hide from everyone with the half-moon overhead and the light of the fire so that candlelight is unnecessary. Oh, I don’t want this week to end, but I know it must. So I have a mixture of happiness and sadness now.”

  Raven sat next to her. The sounds of the lakeside night creatures filled the air with their serenade. He leaned to kiss her lips. At first his embrace was gentle, but soon his ardor demanded. She liked how his tongue slid into hers in the way he taught her allowing her to respond to his every advance.

  There was that marvelous thread of sensuality as his hands moved to her throat and found their way inside her gown to the swell of her breasts. Her body reacted at the gentleness of his hands that ignited passion and made her feel wantonly alive. She gasped at the enveloping response he evoked in her as his fingers feathered her nipples. The fire deep down below needed to be quenched. She trailed tickling fingers up and down his solid back.

  “You overpower,” she whispered, and leaned back to breathe in air that allowed some space between them.

  “Have I? You have beguiled me with full intent to do so.” Raven eased her back onto the seat. All the while he kissed and fondled her. “You arouse fervor within me that demands satisfaction.”

  “If we’re not careful you will once again compromise me.” Samantha didn’t stop him nor did she want to halt the tingling sensations that vibrated everything within. Her spoken words and her heart’s desire conflicted with one another. It became a battle she did not want to win. His hot kisses awakened such an urgent need to have all of him inside her.

  “Why did you ask me here? What is so important?” Samantha pressed her body to his and became aware of his anxious arousal. His expression was feral with erotic hunger glowing like coals in his eyes. Oh, yes, she waged war. A knowing smile curled the edge of her lips.

  Samantha sensed his restraint waned and her desire waxed.

  Her hands held his head on each side, keeping his long hair out of his eyes so he could ravage her with unfettered passion. She brought his lips to hers, and the kiss was volcanic. Her hands moved to his broad shoulders, pressing her breasts against his manly chest, his desperation fueling her passion. She slid to her knees, and the touch of his hot hands on her breasts titillated when his lips brushed across her nipples. Breathless, she moaned and purred to urge him.

  She embraced and pressed against him even further. Her hands splayed across his back, pulled him to her. His hands slid down her waist, caressed her hips, and he fell to his knees to worship her navel. When he nestled his face in her curls and smelled the utter essence of her feminine sensuality, she wanted to yield to the soft burning core of her body that vibrated with liquid passion.

  He made Samantha feel so desirable. Sweet heaven.

  Raven whispered, “You make me feel like a man, Samantha.” She now became the sole object of his desire. This unique creature fascinated him and made him want to live and love again. His fingers glided down her bare arm, and her shiver jolted him.

  “Are you cold?” His fingers continued their possessive journey.

  “No, Raven. I’m warm, perhaps even molten.”

  His eyes never left hers. “I tremble with eagerness for you and seek your forbidden places.” He gazed in awe as she rose from the seat, slipped out of her sleeves, eased off her bodice and allowed the gown to fall to the carpet.

  Damnation.

  She wore no corset or undergarments. The naked sight of her spiraled his desire to take her then and there amidst the silken dress and flokati rug. Raven tore at her chemise the moment she stepped out of the layered dress on the floor.

  Damnation, what had he done? Was he a beast aroused by the tremor in his loins? He rose to gaze further upon her, took a deep breath, started to walk away, and stopped when she called his name.

  “Raven,” she asked in a soft voice. “Is something wrong? Do I disappoint you?”

  “No, my dear, the problem is
that you please me…too much.”

  He spun to face her and soon found himself incapable of denying her siren call. What a sight to behold. More than intoxication, it was pure magic by a sorceress. The moonlight danced on her red hair like miniature fireflies and outlined the silver shadow of her voluptuous body against the window. The reflection of the moon gave her a halo effect. Were those stars surrounding her? It took his breath away. Her invitation was hard to resist and one that he didn’t want to curtail. Indeed, he found himself in want and in great need with hunger only she could quench.

  How could she be so beautiful? This mystical angelic form came from the darkness to claim him. The illusionary effect, a vision men fantasized about in their wet dreams, evoked ferocious passion. His flight of the imagination came to life in front of him right now.

  It couldn’t be wrong just to look at her and wish she could be his. His mind and body fought the torrents of control and wants. Desire tormented him. Need demanded. His cock ached.

  Raven had made a promise to her aunt not to compromise her again, and he would keep his word, but a little suckle of her beautiful globed breasts couldn’t be injurious to his pledge, he reasoned. Damn her aunt. Damn his honor.

  The suckling of her breasts, at first slow, increased to hard and fast with a sense of desperation. When he moved to her collarbone, his lips were gentle again. His mouth nibbled her earlobe and teased.

  “I have this voracious need to be near you, and to feel you beneath me. It’s been such a long time.” His statement had Samantha tilt her head in question.

  “Raven, it was only twenty-four hours ago,” she whispered in his ear. Excitement raced through her and tingled as his hand traced its way between her breasts where he shared the warmth with her emerald.

  Raven tore his lips from her and rasped, “Marry me, my love. Honor me and say you will.” He whispered in her ear. “Say, yes, Liana.”

  In the height of her passion, she almost didn’t hear his words, but they soon penetrated her senses.

  ****

  Samantha arose and pushed him away. Her heart sank. “You called me Liana?” Wide, startled eyes looked at him in disbelief. “How could you do this to me now and at this moment?”

  She wanted to hide her nakedness in shame. Anger substituted for desire. Both strong emotions now tortured her.

  The silence thickened and the magic of the moment shattered, all because of a slip of his tongue. She had lost the war before she fought a battle.

  “I need you to gaze at me, Raven. I am flesh and blood, much alive. Your duchess is dead. I cannot abide your arms around me passionately when you think of another woman in place of me. I can fight the living, but I can’t fight the dead. I am here, and I am now. Was I so easy to fool, Your Grace?” She used her formal tone. “Did you think I would not care because you would consider me a suitable substitute, Your Grace? You need an heir, and I could have given you one, your Damn Grace.”

  Every time she said, Your Grace, she intended it as an unending slap in the face. “Your precious Liana can’t do anything for you now.”

  “Damnation. That is enough, Samantha.” His tone was an imperial octave lower. “You should not be offended if I have compared you to the great love of my life. You should be flattered. I loved her, but now I love you.”

  In a fury, she said, “What gall you have. What unmitigated gall.” She stomped up to him in all her naked glory. “You and I, in the throes of lust, passion or whatever, and you call me by her name, and I am to be flattered? Your arrogance knows no bounds. I know nothing about men and bed sport experiences, but you know nothing about women, and for certain, nothing about me.”

  She stomped back and demanded of him, “Gaze at me again, Your Grace. Look at what you’ve wrought.” Much like an angry Botticelli Venus, she became quite a sight in her stockings and silk slippers and nothing else but rosy taut nipples and a hand covering her triangle sacred spot.

  “You will not anger me, Samantha. I never wanted you more than I want you right now. You’re on fire. Let’s quench the flames together. Come. Forgive me. We are good together. Let me make it up to you.”

  With full breasts, her head high, she held the glow from the fireplace light which crackled loudly in response to the sight of Raven falling to his knees, embracing her, his head on her feminine mound. “I am sorry, Samantha. You don’t need more pain in your life. I wanted to fill our world with joy.”

  “Well, that is progress. You have my name right this time,” she spat. “You touch me, and I behave like a common strumpet. You took an innocent virgin and made me into a wanton woman. All the time, you longed for someone else. You never wanted me for who I am.” One hand rested on her hip, and she swayed for one tiny second. An uncontrolled tear escaped. “Oh, you are a wretch.”

  For a short moment, she placed her hand on his head and thought of the possibility to forgive him. Should she settle for a pyrrhic victory? That would be yet another compromise on her part, and a little bit more of her would die inside, but she’d never be sure of his love for her alone. He wanted to recreate his past with his duchess. She was just the instrument, a token for his needs. Better to find out now. No more compromises.

  “I once thought that if you could love me one tenth as much as you did your duchess, I would be content. One tenth is not good enough anymore. I deserve to be loved more than that.”

  She reached back to remove his arms, and pulled away from him, disgust apparent on her face. “Take a long look at me, Your Grace. For you shall never see this again as long as I live.” Samantha turned to look at him, on his knees, and there was an incredulous look of shock apparent in his eyes.

  “Begging does not suit you, Your Grace. Get up.” She took her clothes and proceeded to dress as best she could and didn’t care how she looked. Samantha needed to hide her nakedness from him.

  “Stand up, damn you.”

  She went to the side table and poured herself a portion of brandy. She wanted to throw it in his face, but that would be too easy, and a waste of good cognac. “This manor of yours is a shrine to your late wife. Every place I turn, there is a reminder of who I am not. I used to adore red roses, and now I hate them because they remind you of her. You are a perverse creature, and you presume too much.”

  Her eyes scanned the room for something to throw at him—anything to hurt him.

  Words spewed from her mouth like a serpent’s fang, and she did not weigh them. “I leave tomorrow, and I never want to see you again.” Her scorn evident in her volcanic fury, she drank the liquor in one gulp, wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

  “If I had a knife, I’d cut your memory from my mind and scrape the parts of my body that you touched. Although I would have to incinerate because there is not a part of me you have not explored with your lethal tongue and with your burning lips and hands—not to mention my heart.”

  She demanded, “Unlock that door, or I will scream and wake up everyone.”

  He leaped out of her way. “Do that and we’d have to marry,” he said. A strange smile crossed his face. He stood and reached to stop her. “Forgive me my carelessness, Samantha. Am I not entitled to one mistake? You know I love you.”

  “I know nothing of the sort. That is a strong word at this point, Your Grace. The person you love is yourself. You could never love anyone again. You have no room in your heart anymore for you should have buried yourself in the grave with her. Now kindly open the door. Quite frankly, I no longer care.” Liar that she was. Her words were cruel. She would care forever.

  What was she to do now when all she wanted was lost to a dead woman’s memory?

  “Please don’t leave me like this. I swear upon my honor. However, I have apologized and I will do so only once.”

  He walked toward her, and she put up her hand. “Stop right there. What will you do, Your Grace? Buy me a new jeweled necklace, or name a flower after me? You are a despicable man. And I’ve been a foolish woman hurt by a man—once again.”

/>   With all sincerity, Raven regretted he’d hurt her. He would try just once more to placate her. “I need you to listen to me. True, I had a great love. True, you reminded me of her. True, you are angry now. However, I need you to remember who I am…a proud man who has asked you, Samantha, to marry me. I will honor that request to you. If you decide to refuse, so be it. I do not beg with ease as you have pointed out to me with complete disdain. To be quite frank, Samantha, you behave like a shrew.” He stood tall with pride.

  “You…you…insufferable person. You introduced me to lust and passion, and you sullied everything we did with each other the moment you compared me to your late wife. It was too much. I will never forget Liana’s name on your lips when you proposed.”

  “Your demeanor is unconscionable, Samantha. If I did equate you to Liana, I am incorrect,” he said in a now sardonic tone. “Liana displayed elegance and refinement as a lady. She’d never speak to me as you’ve done and as you continue to do. Her propriety as my wife knew no bounds.” His words stung the air about them.

  “You took my maidenhead,” she shouted.

  “You gifted it to me,” he reminded her. “You are fire and ice. I remind you of your neglect to inform me of your virginity. I would call that a deception. I will speak no further of this. If you wish to go, we shall go.”

  At this point, he unlocked the door and held it open for her to leave if she so chose. Raven followed behind at a distance to assure she found her way in safety back to the main house. Damnation!

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Samantha stormed down the path. God help anyone who might have gotten in her way. She climbed the steps to her rooms, and never looked back. When she reached her bedroom, her fury soared, muttering to herself as the unknown ramifications overwhelmed. Her feet paced the intricate woven carpet, back and forth, like a monstrous wild she-cat.

 

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