by Diana Bold
As Clarice had so eloquently reminded her, she was running out of time. This would be her one act of rebellion. The only thing she’d ever done for herself.
Tomorrow, she would once again become the duke’s dutiful daughter. She would marry whomever he decided without one whisper of complaint. She could endure anything, as long as she had memories of a night with Dylan to keep her company.
The minutes crawled by, but at last, the appointed time arrived, and she crept out of her room and down the long silent hall. She descended the back stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she evaded the busy servants.
Once outside, she breathed in the crisp rose-scented air and made her way to the secluded nook of the garden where she’d arranged to meet Captain Blake. A stone bench covered by a small wooden arbor squatted in the corner against the wall. This area was hidden by an overgrown hedge and was the perfect place for an illicit tryst.
Time passed, and her panic grew as she faced a fear that hadn’t even occurred to her before. What if he didn’t come?
Thankfully, she didn’t have to contemplate such a horrible thought for long. He materialized out of the darkness, a tall lean figure dressed in black. As he rounded the hedge, a shaft of light from the house illuminated his stark male beauty. His pale gaze locked with hers for one heartrending moment before he stepped back into the shadows.
Enchanted, she stood and moved toward him. He caught her in his arms, spun her round and round, and laughed beneath his breath. After a moment, he stopped, and she buried her face against his chest.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.” She reveled in the simple pleasure of his embrace. Her father was not a demonstrative man, and she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had simply held her.
Not that being held by Dylan Blake was like anything she’d ever experienced. His strength and warmth seeped beneath her skin and cradled her very heart. His scent, a clean, crisp mix of soap and leather, overwhelmed her. She didn’t want him to ever let her go.
He raised her chin so he could meet her gaze, his own eyes full of rueful amusement. “I shouldn’t have. I didn’t intend to. But in the end, I couldn’t bear to let this moment slip away.”
She lifted her hand and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He held her for a moment more and then looked over his shoulder, as though to ensure no one else was around. Satisfied, he pulled her toward the bench, taking them farther out of sight.
She settled beside him, so close her skirts brushed his thigh. Holding her gaze, he took her wrist and unbuttoned her glove. Intimacy wrapped around them like a blanket, and her pulse accelerated as he peeled the glove away. When he finished, he tucked the scrap of silk into his breast pocket and lifted her hand to his lips.
His mouth was warm and surprisingly soft against the center of her palm. She inhaled sharply, and he looked up at her through those extravagant lashes, a troubled frown turning down the corners of his sensuous lips.
“Why me? You’re taking a huge risk, meeting me this way. I don’t understand.”
She didn’t really understand herself, but she sensed he wanted far more from her than a glib reply. “I fell in love with the very thought of you,” she admitted, embarrassed by the naïve young girl she’d been such a short while ago. “I’ve read all the newspaper articles of your exploits, and I desperately wanted to meet the hero, Captain Blake.”
“I’m not a hero, Natalia.” As he spoke, he stroked her palm with the warm pad of his thumb. The sensation melted something deep inside her, and she had a hard time remembering what she wanted to say.
“You risked your life to save someone else’s. If that’s not the definition of heroism, I don’t know what is.”
He gave a bitter laugh and shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe the extent of her foolishness. “What was I to do? Leave those men to die? There was no heroism involved. Anyone else would have done the same thing.”
“No,” she whispered. “Most people would have only worried about their own necks. They wouldn’t have gone back into the fray three times to drug wounded men to safety.”
“Well, if you thought me such a hero and were so eager to meet me, why did you rebuff me the first time I asked you to dance?” He closed his hand around hers and stared into her eyes as though he could somehow see inside her soul. “You realized right away I wasn’t the man you thought me to be.”
She’d thought she’d managed to hide her true feelings so well. But perhaps that was one of the things she liked best about him—he understood her in a way no one else ever had.
“I was disappointed,” she admitted. “You didn’t seem sincere, and I thought you were like all the others, the ones who looked at me but didn’t see anything but my dowry.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I liked your persistence. And once I got to know you a little better, I realized the real you was far more interesting than the Captain Blake I’d read about in the newspapers.”
“The real me? Who do you think I am?” Dylan wasn’t certain he wanted to hear her answer. She seemed determined to strip away all his masks, and he didn’t want her to see what remained. What would she think when confronted with the sniveling coward who was scared to fall asleep at night because of the nightmares that haunted his dreams?
She squeezed his hand. “You’re lonely. You want someone to care about, and you want someone to care about you.”
He dropped his gaze, stunned by the truth behind her words. “I’m not lonely,” he told her sharply. But he was. Oh, he was. “I’ve had a dozen mistresses since I returned.”
“I know you have. I’ve heard the rumors about the courtesans and the actresses.” If he’d shocked her, she didn’t show it. She just kept on, relentlessly. “But did you care for a single one of them? And, more importantly, did a single one of them truly care for you?”
He thought of Cassandra and the others, how empty he’d felt in their arms. They’d never pestered him about his past, never made him feel anything at all. Instinctively, he knew if he ever made love to Natalia, it would be the most beautiful experience of his life.
“I never cared about any of them,” he admitted, meeting her gaze once again. “But I do care about you.”
“Oh, Dylan.” Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward until they were mere inches apart. “I wanted to do this so badly the last time I saw you.” With a trembling hand, she reached out and cupped his cheek, gently stroking the line of his jaw.
His pulse accelerated at her innocent caress, and it thrilled him that she’d used his given name. They hadn’t even kissed yet, and he was already painfully aroused.
“You wanted to touch my face?” he asked, tenderly amused.
“Since the first time I met you. But that’s not what I meant.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and then pressed her face against his neck, giving him a fierce hug. “I’m sorry you lost your friends. I wish there was something I could do to ease your pain.”
Shocked by her words, his first impulse was to resist her. He tried to duck away, but she hung on, refusing to let him go.
“It’s all right.” Her soft lips moved against the sensitive skin of his throat. “Just let me comfort you for a moment.”
She wants to comfort me. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. In the end, all he could do was put his arms around her and hold on.
Closing his eyes, he sank back against the wall and let her warmth and sweetness surround him, reveling in the pure uncomplicated beauty of the moment. He couldn’t remember ever having received such a precious, unselfish gift.
At long last, she pulled away, her cheeks blazing with color, her green eyes hopeful, yet painfully uncertain. God, she was so beautiful. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted to kiss her.
Leaning forward, he cupped her face in his hands. “Thank you.” He smoothed his fingertips over her soft skin, learning her features by touch.
> She went still and stared up at him with those exotic trusting eyes, waiting breathlessly for whatever he chose to do next.
“Tell me to stop.” He feared once he crossed this line, he could never go back.
“No.” She tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear with trembling fingertips. “I want you to kiss me. I’ve wanted it for so long.”
Undone by her words, he closed the distance between them and feathered his lips to hers with infinite restraint. “You are so sweet. I don’t ever want to let you go.”
The poignancy of the moment, of knowing this was the only time he would ever have her in his arms, was a powerful aphrodisiac. He deepened the kiss, tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, and inhaled her startled breath.
Tentatively, she returned his kiss, and he moaned at her passionate untutored response. Her hands fluttered restlessly over his chest and shoulders. He shuddered to think of what it would feel like if she were to touch him lower, where he needed her so much.
The chill breeze ruffled his hair, and the intoxicating scent of roses mingled with her own sweet fragrance. He kissed her as though he would die if he stopped. One fleeting thought entered his mind—I’m not lonely anymore.
Chapter Ten
“Get away from my daughter, you bastard!” The Duke of Clayton’s furious voice jolted through Dylan’s passion-soaked brain like a bolt of lightning. Ice cascaded through his veins as he glanced up and saw the duke closing in, murder in his eyes.
Natalia jerked away and fumbled with the neckline of her gown, which he’d only just managed to lower. But it was too late. Her father had seen everything.
Dylan lifted a placating hand and searched for a possible explanation. Before he could say anything, the duke blindsided him with a right hook. Dylan reeled backward, stunned by the brute force of the older man’s blow.
“Father, no!” Natalia cried, trying to put herself between them, but the duke pushed her out of the way, intent on his goal. She stumbled and fell, hitting her head on a stone bench with a resounding crack.
“Natalia!” Dylan tried to go to her, but as he gained his feet, the duke glanced a punishing blow off his left temple, followed with a swift jab to his gut. Dylan bent forward, gasping and trying to catch his breath.
For a moment, he thought he might lose consciousness, but worry for Natalia eclipsed his pain. When the duke moved to strike again, Dylan lifted his arm and blocked the blow. He deserved every bit of the duke’s fury, but enough was enough.
“Just hold on a minute,” Dylan growled. “Let me see if Natalia’s all right.”
“I’ll check on her.” Much to Dylan’s dismay, Michael stepped from behind the hedge and knelt by Natalia’s side.
Bloody hell, this was just what he needed. Had all of London invaded their privacy? He kept a wary eye on the duke, ready to fight back if the old man tried anything else. He focused the rest of his attention on Natalia and his brother.
God, he’d made a colossal mess of everything.
Michael pulled Natalia to a sitting position and gently probed the back of her head. He murmured to her in a concerned undertone, but his reproachful gaze locked with Dylan’s.
“Are you all right, daughter?” Chagrin replaced the old man’s anger when he realized he’d hurt Natalia.
“Yes.” Natalia’s ragged voice, choked with tears, was not very convincing. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Dylan tried not to think about the look of betrayal on Michael’s face. The confrontation with his brother would have to wait. The most important thing right now was Natalia. There was only one thing he could do, given the circumstances. And although he realized this was exactly what he’d wanted all along, he hated that it had come about in this manner.
He took a deep breath and turned to face the enraged duke once again. “Your Grace, I apologize for my behavior tonight.”
The duke shook his head. “Your apology is not accepted, young man.”
Dylan tried again. “I care for your daughter very deeply, sir. I never meant to compromise her. Please, let me make this right. Let me marry her.”
“Never. I would die before I allowed my daughter to marry a fortune hunter like you.”
Dylan flinched, stung by the duke’s contempt. “I may not be titled or wealthy, but I promise to be good to her. I would never hurt her in any way.”
Natalia got to her feet and moved to Dylan’s side. Her anguished gaze met his, and she lifted her hand to dab a bit of blood from his lip.
“I love you,” she said, loud enough for both her father and Michael to hear. “And I’m so sorry about all of this.”
Then she squared her shoulders and turned to face the duke. “Please, Father. I’m begging you. Let me marry Captain Blake. I’ll never be happy if you force me to wed someone else.”
She loves me. All of Dylan’s anger, regret, and embarrassment faded away. None of that mattered, not if she truly meant what she said. He reached out and squeezed her hand to let her know how much her words meant to him.
The duke stared at them in brooding silence. Dylan was peripherally aware that Michael had left the three of them alone. Natalia trembled like a leaf in the wind. She held his hand so tightly he could no longer feel his fingertips.
“You shame me, Natalia.” The duke’s soft words were brutal, despite their lack of heat. “I can’t believe you are foolish enough to believe this young man cares for you. Don’t you know he only lured you out here to fulfill some sort of rakehell’s bet? He’s 200 pounds richer because you gave in to him so easily.”
A BET. Natalia lifted her gaze to Dylan’s, afraid of what she might find. Please, let this be a lie. There had to be a mistake. Her father had made it up in order to turn her against the man she loved.
Dylan shook his head, but desperation filled his eyes. So much guilt...
Father’s not lying.
Bitter tears sprang to her eyes, and her knees threatened to give way as she confronted the bitter truth. It all made sense now—all his sweet words and relentless pursuit. He wanted something from her, just like all the others.
“It did start out as a bet,” Dylan admitted, his voice rough and low. “But I didn’t come out here tonight because of that. To win the bet, all I had to do was dance with you twice. If all I’d wanted was the damn money, then why didn’t I just convince you to dance with me again?”
“Because you didn’t want to settle for 200 pounds?” She put two and two together and reached a sum that destroyed her soul. “Because you realized all you had to do was compromise me, and you could have my entire dowry.”
She released his hand, and it seemed as though every ounce of warmth in her body drained away with the loss of his touch. He’d stolen her heart and her innocence. She’d been such a fool.
“It could have been anyone,” he whispered. “I could have chosen Emma Marks. Her dowry is even larger than yours. But I didn’t want her, Natalia. I want you.”
“Do you expect me to be grateful you chose me for your deception?” Self-preservation took over and turned her hurt into angry contempt. She put a hand to her aching temple, feeling as though her head would explode. “I’m sorry I ever met you.”
Then she stepped away, crossing the distance to her father’s side. Far safer in the duke’s shadow. She wondered now why she had been so eager for danger and excitement.
Her father gave her one pitying, exasperated look, then turned his attention back to Dylan. “For the sake of your brother and your father, who are honorable men, I’ll let you leave here tonight, but if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll ruin you. Do you understand me?”
All the emotion bled from Dylan’s expression. His eyes became as wintry and empty as they’d been the first time he asked her to dance.
“Of course. I understand perfectly.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving Natalia to face her father’s wrath alone.
Chapter Eleven
Dylan strode away from Natalia and the duke, disappointment a
nd regret fueling every step. He wanted a quiet place to lick his wounds, needed a few solitary moments to process all the ways in which the evening had gone wrong.
There had to be a way to make things right.
Michael caught up with him near the back of the house, but Dylan didn’t even slow down. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Not on top of everything else.
Michael stopped him with a firm grip on his upper arm. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. The duke found out that his daughter lied about being ill. He asked me to help find her. The moment he did, I knew she’d be with you. I think you owe me an explanation, at the very least.”
The two brothers stared at each other for a few endless moments. In Michael’s eyes, Dylan saw more than mere anger. He saw revulsion and absolute dislike.
Michael had never hated him. Until now.
Dylan looked away first, unable to bear the reproach. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“You didn’t think it would hurt me, to find you in a compromising situation with the woman I have to marry?” Michael laughed, a bitter exhalation of sound. “Damn you, Dylan. You gave me your word.”
Dylan bowed his head in chagrin. “I know you think you have a chance of winning her heart, but I already told you her father plans to marry her to a prince. And when she asked me to meet her in the garden...” He shook his head in self-reproach. “I should have said no, but I wanted her so damned much.”
“Do you think that makes it all right?” Michael stepped away, putting more distance between them. “Not that it’s any of your business, but when the duke approached me this evening, he all but implied Lady Natalia was mine if I wanted her.” Michael ran his hand through his hair. “You’ve ruined everything. I’ll have to marry that obnoxious little American.”
“This doesn’t change anything. You can still marry Natalia.” Dylan’s whole heart rebelled at the thought. But after what had happened here tonight, he knew the duke would make her wed someone else as soon as possible. At least Michael would treat her with respect and kindness. “None of this was her fault.”
