Duke of Renown

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Duke of Renown Page 11

by Aston, Alexa


  Andrew didn’t know how long they stood on the beach kissing. It didn’t matter. Time was now theirs to make of it as they chose. If he wanted to spend hours each day kissing her, that’s what he’d do. Of course, there were other things he wanted to do with her but he would wait until they were wed. Widowed or not, Phoebe had a sense of propriety about her and he wouldn’t ask more than she was willing to give.

  She broke the kiss, her palms coming to his cheeks, cradling his face.

  “I want you, Andrew. All of you. Not just your kisses. I need you inside me.”

  Her words shocked—then delighted—him. “Are you certain, Phoebe?”

  “More than I have been about anything in my life,” she told him.

  “You would have us make love,” he said, wanting to be certain there was no misunderstanding between them.

  She grinned. “Was I not clear, Andrew? I thought I was speaking the King’s English though he might be uncomfortable hearing what I am saying.” She gazed into his eyes. “I want to know everything about you. I want to discover things I’ve never known. With you. I have a knot of need gnarled inside me and only you can untangle it.”

  “Oh, Phoebe, darling.”

  He seized her mouth again, his kiss urgent and fevered. The hunger he felt for her was returned. Joy filled him. He kissed her until they both were breathless and then he swept her into his arms and began carrying her back the way they’d come.

  “Andrew! Put me down. Your shoulder. You’ll injure it again.”

  “My shoulder is fine. I am fine.” He kissed her. “I will be even better once I’ve made sweet love to you.”

  He didn’t bother stopping at their boots and stockings and went straight to the cottage instead. He’d thought to tell her who he was and then offer for her—but this was even better. She wanted him as a man. As Andrew. She would make love with Andrew. Learning he was the Duke of Windham would be an afterthought.

  Reaching the cottage, he bent and she turned the latch, nudging the door open with her foot. He closed it behind them and carried her to the bed, placing her on it.

  “I am going to love you thoroughly, Phoebe Smith. Be prepared. It will take the rest of the afternoon and most of the night.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Phoebe gazed up at the man who had slipped into her heart and become her world. She hadn’t known him a month ago yet now he was everything to her. She had always been her mother’s good girl and later aimed to be a good example to her sister. Even though Borwick wasn’t her choice of a husband, she’d tried to be a good wife to him and an excellent mother to Nathan.

  Now, though, in this moment, she wanted to be wicked. Very, very wicked with this sinfully handsome man. She had lived for others her entire life. For one afternoon—or into the evening—she was going to think only of herself.

  In her heart, Phoebe knew she could never be anything to this man. He lived life on the edge as a smuggler. Someone who broke the law for profit. Once he healed—and she believed he had enough that he would be leaving soon—she couldn’t go with him and he certainly wouldn’t think to take her. That was why she had decided today was the day she would give herself to him because he might be gone tomorrow. When he’d kissed her so tenderly on the beach, she’d known she owed it to herself to have one glorious session of making love with this man. He would return to his life and she would to hers.

  But she’d always carry the memory of what they did in this bed together.

  He reached up to pull his shirt over his head and winced. She immediately came to her knees and caught his wrists, lowering them. Then she captured the edge of the garment and began lifting it over his head. Once he was freed from it, he took it from her and tossed it aside. She gazed upon his bare chest, one she’d gotten to know quite well. The beauty of it never ceased to amaze her. Except now, she could touch it all she wanted.

  Phoebe ran her hands over it, feeling the hard muscles and the flat belly, grazing the soft hair that tapered downward and disappeared into his breeches. She slid her fingers up again to his nipples and circled them with her fingertips before tracing them with the pad of one finger. Andrew sucked in a breath and caught her wrists.

  “I can’t let you have all the fun,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire.

  His hands went to her waist and he lifted her from the bed. With deliberation, he began to undress her, taking so much time with the first layer that she wanted to help him. He must have seen the frustration in her eyes.

  “No. We will do this my way. Slowly. I want the desire to build within you until you are ready to scream it aloud.”

  She couldn’t imagine screaming at all. When Borwick had come to her, her night rail had remained on. He’d merely raised it and jabbed his cock into her. It had always hurt but she’d bitten back her cries. No desire ever flickered through her as they coupled. The only time she’d felt it was when Andrew kissed her.

  He did so now with each layer he peeled away. His kisses grew longer and wetter and more heated until, finally, she stood before him with nothing on. The old Phoebe would have been embarrassed and tried to cover herself. The Phoebe she’d become with him stood proudly before him, waiting to see what his next move would be.

  It didn’t take long to find out.

  He pulled her to him, her body soft against his hard one. He devoured her mouth with a hunger that spiraled into flames within her. His lips went lower, nipping her throat and then reaching the swell of her breast. His tongue lazily outlined it and then moved to her nipple, teasing it. The throbbing she’d experienced before between her legs pounded heavily as his teeth grazed her nipple. Then he was sucking on her, pulling her into his mouth. Her arms went about his head, holding him close to her breast, not wanting him to stop. He feasted on it and then did the same with the other. She heard herself sighing, moaning, groaning in pleasure.

  Andrew finally lifted his head. “You are so beautiful,” he exclaimed in wonder. His hands slid from her breasts to her waist and traced the curve of her hips. “There’s so much to discover about you.”

  In reply, she kissed his throat and let her lips trail lower to his nipple. She imitated what he had done to her, feeling brave and strong as she heard the sounds of pleasure coming from him. Suddenly, they fell against the mattress and his mouth sought hers once more. As they kissed, his hand danced along her belly and went lower. She stiffened.

  “It’s all right, love,” he assured her. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Phoebe saw sincerity in his eyes and knew she could trust him.

  He kissed her again and his fingers teased her curls. Then his hand cupped her pounding mound and she cried out.

  Andrew chuckled. “Oh, you are a delight, Phoebe. My delight.”

  He hovered above her as one finger trailed up and down her sex. She swallowed. Whimpered. Melted. He pushed it inside her and she gasped in pleasure.

  “You are so wet for me, my love. So very ready. But I want to pleasure you first.”

  She smiled. She had known he would think of her. What he did to her after that was indescribable. He toyed with her over and over, bringing her to some precipice and then backing away. The throbbing consumed her. Need bubbled within her. He kissed her until they both were breathless and then he broke the kiss.

  “I want to watch you come, Phoebe. I want to see your eyes.”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “You have no idea, do you, dearest?”

  “No,” she said hoarsely.

  He smiled, his satisfaction evident. “Come with me.”

  His fingers began caressing her again and it was as if a dam was about to burst within her. As he stroked her, tension built and built and built and then spilled over. Glorious waves of pleasure flooded her and she kept saying yes over and over. Her hips bucked and light poured from her. All the while, Andrew looked down upon her and she couldn’t look away.

  Her body finally stilled and he moved from the bed. She would have cried out but she had
no voice. No strength. She watched him shed his breeches, his manhood springing from them, and then he came back to her.

  His hand brushed her hair from her brow. “I will always remember this moment, Phoebe. When we came together as one.”

  With that, he pushed into her. For a moment, she tensed, waiting for the usual pain to come. When it didn’t, she relaxed.

  “We are meant to be,” Andrew murmured into her ear, kissing her neck as he thrust into her.

  Phoebe found herself wanting to meet each thrust and did. Her arms went around his waist and she rose each time he entered her, wanting to be as close to him as possible. It became like a dance in which they were perfect partners. Then the same feeling from before built within her and she did scream as he’d said she would. She cried out his name and he did the same, calling hers over and over as they collided and shuddered and then fell to the bed.

  Immediately, he rolled to his side, still inside her. His forehead touched hers.

  “That was . . . incredible,” she managed to get out.

  Andrew’s arms tightened about her. “Yes. It was.” He pushed her head to his shoulder. “I need that nap now, Mrs. Smith. And you’re just the one to take it with me.”

  He wouldn’t get any protests from her. Phoebe snuggled close and shut her eyes, overwhelmed by what had just happened between them.

  She awoke to him kissing her neck, not knowing how much time had passed.

  “I was too hurried the first time,” he told her. “This will be different.”

  It was. By the time he finished, she didn’t think he’d missed kissing any part of her. He’d explored every curve with his hands, mouth, and tongue. Even a place where she never would have expected him to seek out. He told her she tasted the sweetest of all in that spot and laughed as she felt herself turn bright red.

  “Never be shy or embarrassed,” Andrew said. “You were meant to be loved this way.”

  They slept again and he made love to her a third time in the dark since night had fallen. They lay exhausted, their limbs entwined.

  “You have worn me out, Phoebe.”

  She stroked his cheek. “I could say the same but, then again, I haven’t been shot recently. I know you are tired. Let me get us something to eat.”

  “No. That would mean I have to let you go.”

  “I promise to return.”

  His stomach growled. “All right then. But hurry else I’ll come looking for you.”

  She slipped from the bed, not bothering to put on her dressing gown. She didn’t want to take time to make tea so after she sliced bread and cheese and a couple of apples, she took the bottle of brandy and placed it on the tray with the food.

  Andrew had the pillows propped up by then and she climbed into bed with him. They dined on what she’d brought, feeding one another and taking sips of brandy between kissing.

  It had been perfect. He was perfect. She could let him go now for she would always hold a piece of him in her heart.

  *

  Phoebe awoke to hot kisses pressed against her belly. Rays of sunshine streamed in the window so she knew it was morning. Andrew made love to her tenderly. She felt treasured.

  He told her to remain in bed while he prepared breakfast for them. Since he’d become quite helpful, she allowed him to wait on her. She heard him banging about in the other room as she stroked Caesar.

  He returned with slices of ham and toasted bread coated in honey. Soft-boiled eggs and tea.

  “If you ever decide to leave smuggling behind, you might work in a great house in the kitchen,” she teased.

  He frowned and she knew it was because she brought up his illegal activities.

  “Phoebe, I need to tell you—”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted him. “We’ve been good about drawing the lines between what we should and should not speak of. I crossed it. I won’t do it again.”

  She placed the last bite of bread into her mouth. “I also know you will be leaving soon.”

  Andrew nodded. “Yes. I will.”

  Taking his hand, she brought it to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Thank you for giving me the gift of yesterday. You have made me feel different about myself ever since you have been here. I am glad I got to know you, Andrew.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. She could taste the honey and salted ham on his tongue. She would focus on the here and now and not the fact his departure was imminent.

  “I have something to do,” he said mysteriously.

  “What?”

  “It’s a surprise. Once I’ve completed it, I’ll return for you. We’ll take a walk along the beach.” He gazed into her eyes. “And then I will have to go.”

  Phoebe nodded. He got up from the bed and took the tray back into the other room. She padded naked behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him.

  “I’ll wash up after you’re gone. Go and do what you must.”

  He turned and kissed her and then returned to the bedchamber. She followed him and they both dressed in silence. She noticed he remained barefoot and recalled they’d left their shoes and stockings near the water yesterday. She waited until he left and then made the bed.

  So, today he would leave. Rationally, she’d known this time was coming. After making love with him, though, it would be hard to let him go. Still, he had a life she knew nothing about, just as he had no idea she was Phoebe Smythe, Dowager Countess of Borwick. They would never cross paths again.

  Only in her dreams.

  She went into the other room and fed Caesar as she washed their dishes. When he finished eating, the cat rubbed her legs a few times and then walked to the door. She let him out and heard a loud, rumbling noise. It sounded like a carriage. Phoebe watched and then saw she was right. As it pulled up into the clearing, she recognized the driver and waved. She wondered what Ernest would be doing here. Perhaps Letty had some packages that she wanted to send to Phoebe and hadn’t trusted they would be delivered properly. It would be just like her sister to have their coachman come all this way.

  He climbed down and hurried to her. “My lady, you must come at once. It’s Lady Burton.”

  Alarm filled her. “What is wrong with my sister?” she demanded.

  “It’s both the viscountess and the baby,” Ernest said.

  “Has she lost it?” she asked, her voice breaking.

  “No, not yet, but Lord Burton fears for her health. She’s come down with a monstrous fever and is delirious. There’s been some . . . spotting.” The driver reddened at mentioning that. “The doctor is terribly worried about her. Lord Burton said I must fetch you. That Lady Burton needs you. He believes you are the key to making her whole again.”

  “Of course. Give me a few minutes to pack, Ernest.”

  Phoebe raced into the cottage and went straight to her trunk. She opened it and then the wardrobe, removing the dresses there and folding them quickly, placing them inside the trunk. Closing it, she summoned the driver so he could take it to the carriage.

  “I won’t have time to speak to the rental agent who leased the cottage to me. Let me leave her a note,” she explained and hurried back inside.

  Instead, she dashed off a quick letter to Andrew. She hated leaving without seeing him but he already had plans to head out today. Perhaps it was best that there would be no tender goodbyes between them. In fact, Phoebe would probably have sobbed through their parting. This way, the break would be clean and she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, blubbering over him.

  Finishing the note, she folded it and scrawled his name boldly across the front. She placed it on the table in front of the settee. Propping it up, he would see it immediately when he entered the cottage.

  Without wasting any further time, she hurried outside. Ernest handed her up and returned to his seat. As they pulled away, Phoebe touched her fingers to her lips and then held them up as they passed the cottage. Then she settled against the cushions and wept.

  Chapter Fourteen


  Andrew made his way to the beach, smiling as he passed their boots and stockings from yesterday. It had been less than a day since he’d removed them from Phoebe. In that time, he’d touched her in every place imaginable. They had made passionate love several times and he knew a bright future was in store for them. He couldn’t wait to have her meet Aunt Helen. He knew his aunt would approve of the match, as would his friends when he introduced Phoebe to them. Sebastian would be the only one that wouldn’t meet her before the wedding since he was still away at war.

  As he walked along the shoreline, he continually knelt to retrieve shells. Since this beach had played an instrumental part in bringing them together, he’d had the idea to propose to Phoebe here. It was important to him that it be a grand, romantic gesture. From her reaction yesterday when he’d started to enter her, he knew that sex had been just that between her and her husband. Nothing sweet or tender or meaningful. Andrew wanted Phoebe to know she was loved.

  He came to an abrupt halt.

  Love?

  Then he grinned. Yes, that was what he felt in his heart. Love for his angel of mercy. Though he hadn’t realized it—and certainly hadn’t uttered the words to her—his heart told him he did love her. Realizing it, a lightness of spirit overwhelmed him. Yes, there would be a few dark days ahead as he dealt with Francis but he would always have Phoebe to come home to. She was his home. His life.

  It took him more than an hour to gather enough shells for what he had in mind. Since he loved her, that had to be part of the message. Painstakingly, Andrew spelled out Will you marry me? and surrounded the words with a heart. He stepped back, proud of his work, hoping she would be delighted when she saw the question. It would surprise her but he believed she already knew in her heart as he did that they belonged together and deserved to spend a lifetime side-by-side.

 

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