Why? All because of a kiss, a kiss that sent confusion and anticipation through her until she couldn’t think straight.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, it was only a kiss!
Yet, somehow, it wasn’t. That meeting in the maze had changed her perception of the game she’d started with the captain. In fact, it had changed everything, and she didn’t know what to do about it. The man knew how to kiss and in a way she’d not expected. Where most men were either too sloppy and slobbery or inadequate and lacking, Peregrine was… not. He’d taken his time while holding onto control, almost as if he’d made love to her mouth in preparation for other things to come. With that kiss, he’d made her feel special and wanted… wanted for herself. Something had passed between them, something intangible, something remarkable, but she couldn’t put a finger on what it was.
She was chasing him for no other reason than she needed to feel more of that tingling awareness, that teetering on the edge of a precipice, that sensation of falling that only the captain could give her. But why him, why now? A handful of days ago, she’d had no knowledge of his existence. If she hadn’t come to Buckinghamshire, she would have never met him. But he was here and so was she, playing this game of cat and mouse together in a torrent of foreign feelings.
Did other women struggle so when they were about to begin something scandalous?
She blew out a breath that ruffled a few curls on her forehead. In short, she wanted an affair with Peregrine and she intended to have his agreement today, but would he go along with it? And how to ask for such a thing? Another dance of her fingertips along the book spines took her to a section on Rome, and she sighed again.
If only…
When the bell at the book shop’s door jangled, Isabella’s heartbeat kicked into a frantic rhythm. At the sound of the captain’s pleasing tenor, gooseflesh popped on her arms. He spent what seemed like an inordinate amount of time in greeting the shopkeeper and of exchanging pleasantries while she paced about the narrow aisle. Was he not as anxious as she to conduct this meeting?
“I’ll just have a look ‘round, if you don’t mind,” Peregrine said in an overly loud voice. “Don’t know where my tastes run today.”
“If you need assistance, please let me know,” the shop keeper said.
The tread of the captain’s boots made a steady thud thud against the scuffed hardwood as he moved through the book shop. The fainter tap of his cane came one second after each footfall. Isabella stuffed herself into the corner where lantern illumination didn’t reach. What was he doing? She pressed a hand to her chest where her pulse raced. Surely he didn’t intend to browse for books when the whole point of coming this morning was to meet her. Had her manner not indicated this was an assignation?
Then she uttered a tiny gasp. Except, assignation implied a physical meeting of sorts with only one outcome. Did he not believe she wished for such, or did he mean to decline after all? Oh, why was it so confusing to plunge oneself into scandal?
A shadow fell across the aisle, and she gasped again. He’s here! The captain stood at the end of the row with all the bearing of the military hero that he was. His hair, combed just so and parted on the side, was as dark as a raven’s wing. The morning sun—peeking briefly from between a wealth of clouds—winked off the brass buttons on his waistcoat and on the silver dolphin at the head of his cane. A hint of a grin curved his lips, as if he knew a joke that she did not.
“Peregrine,” she breathed, and her heart skipped a beat before resuming its normal course. Had he always been so handsome, so vital, so much larger than life?
“Isabella.” His low-pitched voice rumbled through the space and set off a host of shivers down her spine. “Imagine seeing you here again.” His grin widened, bloomed into a smile that did strange things to her insides as he advanced upon her. Slowly, each step a calculated risk and design to make certain she wouldn’t flee. Then he dropped his voice to a mere whisper. “Can I assume you didn’t invite me here to select volumes of poetry together? Not that I’d be averse to that, for I still haven’t found the book I’m looking for, though I seem to have less free time devoted to reading now.”
Heat slapped at her cheeks. “No, I do not wish to browse books.” Now that he was here, what was she to do with him?
“Ah.” He came a little closer. Only two feet of space separated them. “Why did you arrange this meeting?”
Rain erupted outside, beating steadily against the roof and windows, its lull a direct contrast to the storm raging inside her. “I…” Her throat went suddenly dry and the thoughts flew from her mind. What the devil had she meant to say?
“That is not a full confession, nor is it an answer, my lady,” he said, his voice a thrilling whisper in the gloom.
She screwed her courage to the sticking point and hoped it held. “I wanted to see you again, well away from the house, away from prying eyes.”
“Oh, I understood that part of your cryptic message. It’s the why I’m curious about.” His voice was a purr, or rather the low, warning, rumbling growl of a jungle cat. He cocked an eyebrow, his smile still in place. “I’ve never known you to be so tongue-tied before.”
Say something, Izzy! She cleared her throat. “Why? Well, I wanted to ask you…” What? To jump into scandal and sin with her? How very ill-bred that sounded in her head.
His chuckle sent frissons of heat into her blood. “It would appear, due to the weather, we are well and truly stuck here for a time.”
“Yes.” Her brain struggled to keep up with the abrupt change of subject. “Thank heavens the book shop is rather cozy.”
“Indeed.” He leaned his cane against the bookshelf. “I wonder how we shall pass the time when we tire of perusing literature?” His eyes were as stormy as the seas he used to sail.
“No doubt we’ll think of something.” Merciful heavens, she was going to dissolve into a puddle from longing. Straightening her spine, she took herself in hand. Flirt with him, Izzy. You know how to play the game. She did when she’d controlled the movements of the players. “Did you wish to offer a suggestion?” Trembles moved up and down her spine. The muscles of her stomach clenched with anticipation. What would he do?
This must be what big game hungers felt like when the prey turned on them.
“Oh, I have plenty, but I want to hear what you had in mind since you were the one who invited me here.”
It was now or never. Her courage would soon desert her if she didn’t speak, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “Peregrine…” How did mistresses do this? Did a woman gain confidence as time went on? “I need…”
You.
“This.” Then he moved and closed the short distance, framed her face in his hands and proceeded to woo her with deep, drugging kisses that made her head spin and her knees weak.
Oh, yes, he is what I need. Isabella couldn’t remember her name, couldn’t remember how to breathe as she returned his embrace. There was a certain comfort in being in his arms, of feeling his lips on hers. Except this kiss was nothing like what they shared in the maze yesterday evening. Oh, no. This kiss held banked power behind it, conveyed heat with every nib and nibble and fence of tongues. In this embrace was the piece of life she’d always missed but could never name.
Not that she could name it now, she only knew that the captain had it and if she were smart or very fortunate, he would offer it to her.
Letting them both suck in a few precious breaths, Peregrine brushed his lips along the underside of her jaw. “Did that satisfy your curiosity, fill your need, or will you require another round?”
Did he even have to ask? She raised her chin and stared—or rather fell—into his storm-dark eyes. “I don’t think my curiosity will ever be satisfied where you are concerned,” she whispered and slid her hands up his chest to lock her fingers around his neck.
“Ah, then that’s perfect since I’m growing increasingly curious about you, Isabella.” He claimed her lips again, but gently this time, as if he ha
d all the time in the world.
She moaned, and when she rose onto tiptoe in a bid to deepen the embrace, he uttered a growl, lifted her up, spun her about and pressed her back against the shelf of books. Isabella didn’t care, for this experience was nothing like anything she’d ever known before. Forgetting where they were, she wrapped her legs about his waist, and it was her who chased his tongue while she fell deeper into the swirling vortex of something she didn’t understand.
Following her lead, Peregrine kissed her as if he meant to devour her whole. He rocked his hips, pushing her further into the book shelf. Travelogues, books and journals tumbled to the floor with multiple thuds, and still he commanded her mouth, her body, her time.
“Is everything all right back there, Captain St. John? Lady Isabella?”
The shop keeper’s strident tones sank into her consciousness, more or less rang in her ears, cold and effective as a bucket of water.
“Damn and blast,” she whispered against Peregrine’s lips. If there hadn’t been an interruption, would she have taken full advantage of the man? Would he have done the same with her?
With a groan, the captain looked deep into her eyes. He didn’t release her, and neither did she loosen her hold on him. “Everything is quite fine. Thank you. I merely had a clumsy moment.” He cleared his throat, but a grin curved his lips. “No need to concern yourself.”
“Very good, sir. Let me know if you require assistance reshelving the books.”
“I will. Thank you.”
For long moments, Isabella stared at the man in her arms. With her back pressed into the books and shelves, the discomfort only heightened her need of him. To say nothing of the strength of his body against hers, his muscles tight and tense, his breath warming her cheek. How had she ever thought his nose too long and hawkish when he appeared like the bird of the same name—stately, strong, focused, intense?
His fingers at her waist tightened almost imperceptibly. “What now?” he asked in a whisper. “Knowing you, there is a reason for this meeting, and it must go beyond nearly seeing us both in the drink in a book shop.”
Heat sank into her cheeks. She blew out a breath. It was now or never, and after this episode, it was readily obvious they’d get on well together. “I would like you to be my scandal.”
“Meaning?” One of his eyebrows rose. “I want no misunderstandings.” Peregrine trailed his lips beneath her jaw again then moved them along the side of her neck leaving shivers in his wake.
Oh, bother. The man wished to talk now, when he could do much more interesting things with his mouth? But she had to answer him. “I have chosen you for that torrid affair I hinted at days ago,” she whispered. “For the scandal of a lifetime, for a summer of passion.” She drifted her hands down to his cravat and gave the snowy linen a few tugs. If possible, he was even more irresistible looking a tad disheveled.
“And then what? You return to London and we go about our lives, no strings attached?”
She couldn’t read the emotion in his voice, but she frowned. Did he not understand what a summer fling meant? “I imagine so. Unless I can convince my father to let me take up residence in Buckinghamshire. Imagine being able to see you whenever I want without family underfoot to tell me I’m causing a scene or embarrassment.”
Or worse, demanding that I forget such foolishness and wed one of the men they’ve chosen for me.
The intensity in his eyes made her squirm, which was a bad idea, for the friction of having him between her legs, even as tame as their position warranted, sent heat and need coursing through her veins. “You are a city lady, born and bred for life in London. You’d grow bored in the country.”
“As have you, but here we are, and it hasn’t been so bad, has it?”
“Perhaps not.” His grin widened, and then he pressed feather-light kisses along the edge of her bodice. She trembled in response. What would those lips feel like on her breasts, or her sensitive nipples that even now pebbled in anticipation? When he spoke, his breath danced over her skin. “I vowed not to involve myself with a woman again.”
A trill of laughter escaped her. “What will be between us is not forever.” Silence brewed between them, broken by the steady drone of the rain. “Will you tell me the story of why your heart was broken as well as your trust?”
He searched her gaze for long moments before nodding. “Meet me tomorrow afternoon at the stream and I’ll tell you the story as well as answer your request.”
“You won’t right now?” She wanted to pout like a thwarted child, but the only thing she could think about was the man in her arms and between her legs.
“No.”
Then she did pout, and he laughed. The sound was like a cleansing breeze, banishing her anxiety. “It’s all part of the game, my lady.” Gently, he encouraged her to unwrap her legs, and when her feet were on the floor once more, he said, “Meet me tomorrow. For now, I’ll kiss you again and then you can help me pick out a book. After all, there is still the rain to consider, and I don’t fancy riding back home in the wet.”
“I suppose if that is all you’ll give me today…” She let her words drift off, mostly because the wicked gleam in his eye promised everything she could hope for and more. Did he realize that?
“Oh, I’ll give you enough that you won’t soon forget this meeting,” he said in a low-pitched voice that sent shivers up and down her spine. Then he crushed her into his arms and this time he backed her into the shadowy corner. “Are you of a mind to continue?”
This or push for an affair? Not that it mattered. Isabella nodded and her heart gave a queer little flutter. “I am. Proceed to shock me, captain.”
“Aye.” And then his hands were on her body and his lips were on hers.
Chapter Twelve
June 6, 1818
Peregrine’s thoughts were distracted as he put the final touches to his toilette.
He’d woken up later in the morning than was his custom, for he’d been gripped by the adventure novel that Isabella had picked out for him. With a smile, he remembered the hour or so they’d spent in the book shop after the heated kisses they’d shared. Once they’d cleaned up the books knocked to the floor by their embraces, they’d both settled into the task of searching out novels, tomes and even the occasional pamphlet.
The lady recommended a great number of reading materials, while he’d pressed volume after volume of poetry into her hands. They’d joked back and forth about the various authors on the shelf, disparaged a few, praised even more. He’d learned of her thirst for adventure and travel, and it had become yet another facet of her that he admired. And Peregrine had added a few volumes of world history to her stack, telling her it was always good to learn about other cultures.
By the time they’d finished at the book shop, it was well past luncheon and the rain had cleared, leaving behind a coolness to the air and the sparkle of rain drops on the meadow grass. Once more he offered to escort her back home, and she’d accepted. They settled all too comfortably in the saddle as if they’d been doing exactly that for years, but she’d ridden to the side, seeing as how they were in the village.
Being with Isabella was becoming both odd and exhilarating, and it felt as if it was always meant to happen. As if fate were playing a hand in his life, and he was powerless to resist. Did he want to? Not at the moment.
He yawned as he checked the cuffs on his shirt. Beyond the late night reading the thrilling adventure, the lady herself had invaded his thoughts until he’d stared at the ceiling for another few hours, watching the play of the moon’s illumination, listening to the soothing sounds of the night as the nocturnal country world prowled beyond his windows.
She wanted a carnal affair with him and only for the summer. What the devil was he to do about the request?
Oh, he was tempted, for she’d led him a merry chase and her curves called to him like a Siren’s song, but beyond that, he adored her sharp wit, her zest for taking control of her own life, and her humor.
Down that path lay disaster. Haven’t I already been shown that? Once a woman was wedded, she became dangerous and the power to shred a man’s heart grew exponentially.
When Jensen arrived into the dressing room, Peregrine was only too glad to have the interruption. “Cook wants your final approval for the menu.”
“The menu?” Why the deuce did he need to approve something like that? Hadn’t she fed him this past month without insight from him?
With his patent annoyance, the valet rolled his eyes. “For the fête you’re throwing in three days’ time.”
Damn and blast. He’d forgotten. Every available spot in his brain was occupied by Isabella. “Remind me again why you pushed me into doing this? It’s bad enough that I’ve been to two social functions in a month. Now you’re making me host one?” What the devil did one do at a fête?
“You need to circulate, Captain.”
“Why?” A handful of days ago, the only thing he wanted was his chair, his fire, brandy and a book. Now, he wanted his bed and a certain lady naked and willing beneath him, and from her words and scheming, she was all too willing. None of those plans included hosting a society event, even if that society was country gentry… and Isabella’s family.
“To prevent you from becoming a curmudgeon.” Jensen gave him a critical one-over, and then nodded. “And to remind the female population that you are available.”
Lady Isabella's Splendid Folly: a Fortune's of Fate story (Fortunes of Fate Book 7) Page 12
