All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4)

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All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) Page 8

by Eva Devon


  Perhaps if he waited, she would tell him the truth. But then he recalled her guarded expression as she’d spoken this afternoon. Alfred was hiding something and she wasn’t going to tell him.

  A moral qualm squeezed his gut. What if she was in trouble? He could help her. After all, he was a duke. A man like he had exceptional power and the unique ability to make things happen that usually could not. The fact that he always got what he wanted had nothing to do with this. He simply wanted to help Alfred.

  He turned to one of the long, carved desks by the fireplace. It would be so easy to pen a line to one of London’s great ladies and ask if someone’s daughter had suddenly gone missing. He stared at the desk.

  If he were a more patient man, he would swear to himself that he would wait until Alfred told him, but he was a man who didn’t sit back and wait. He made things happen and so Nicholas crossed to the desk, put down The Rover, whipped out a sheet of parchment and scrawled a few lines.

  He contemplated the missive, but before he could think too long, he pressed it, sanded it, and readied it for the post.

  Knowing the recipient, if there was any pertinent information floating about London, he’d know Alfred’s identity by tea time in five days from now. Perhaps less.

  He strode out of the library and handed the note to a footman in the hall.

  He stopped for one moment. Would Alfred see it as a betrayal?

  He shook his head. Someone had to look out for her since she clearly took such blatant risks with her person. He couldn’t bear to think of her hurt. If he knew who she was, he’d protect her from whatever villain had sent her running.

  Yes. For once, he’d get to play the role of white knight.

  Feeling fairly pleased, Nicholas headed for the stairs, present in hand.

  *

  Allegra hadn’t felt this clean in weeks. She hadn’t dared to take the risk before. It had been impossible to take off all her clothes.

  Now, she was dallying in a stunning copper tub, most of her body submerged. Her knees were poking up above the water. She wasn’t about to complain.

  The luxurious feeling was marvelous.

  Fresh, hot water! She grinned, running her fingers through her damp and now clean hair. It was amazing what one didn’t consider a luxury when one had it every day.

  It had never occurred to her before that the servants in her parents’ houses likely didn’t take full baths. Certainly not baths in which one could soak.

  She had. Frequently. It seemed a terribly unfair thing. For there was something about simply sitting in warm water that seemed to soothe the mind as well as the muscles.

  She traced her hands over the water. She wasn’t thinking of smooth, velvet skin that covered hard muscle. Oh, no.

  Clenching her hands into fists, she fought a soft moan. Nicholas was such an incredible man. In all her life, she’d met no one like him. Not a single person had ever dared to say such things to her as he, or to listen with such attentiveness.

  Today on the beach, she could have sworn she’d seen a moment of vulnerability to him as well. As if he’d sensed that she’d known pain. He hadn’t tried to make it better. He’d simply given her a silent sort of solidarity.

  She lifted her hand from the bath and touched her lips. Droplets of water fell over her chest causing her nipples to tighten.

  Their kisses lit a fire in her that promised a bonfire of desire.

  And ever since they’d agreed to be lovers, anticipation had thrummed through her. It had occurred to her to bathe as quickly as possible and then await him in his bed. She was eager. It was true, but it had also occurred to her that she was about to take a path that couldn’t be retraced. Once she and Nicholas became lovers, she couldn’t un-know what she learned. She would be forever changed. Different. It was a rite of passage in every person’s life.

  So, she was taking her time. Savoring the last moments of being. . . Well, innocent.

  Smiling to herself, she wondered what in the fates had put this remarkable man in her sights.

  Slowly, she pulled herself up from the bath. Water sluiced down her naked form and she reached out for a long piece of linen.

  The door began to open.

  She yelped and dropped the fabric to the ground.

  “May I come in?”

  “Uh. . .” She felt like yelling, no!, as a thousand nerves seemed to seize hold of her brain. But she stopped herself. It felt like this was what was supposed to be. She wasn’t going to fight it.

  “Please,” she said as confidently as she could.

  The heavy, paneled door opened and Nicholas entered with a smile on his face. “I have something for—”

  He stopped mid-stride, a book in hand. His smile suddenly transformed into an open-mouthed look of shock. He crashed into a chair. After the merest of moments, he raked her up and down with his gaze slowly. “My God, Alfred.”

  She stood under his scrutiny, only keeping herself from shaking by sheer will. She lifted her chin. “Yes?”

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  Goodness! Her muscles melted and she stopped herself from asking, Indeed? Instead, she managed a shaky, “Thank you.”

  “Alfred, Venus rising from her bath?”

  She nodded. She was aware of the da Vinci painting.

  “She has nothing on you.”

  Her cheeks burned with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. . . And, well frankly, surprise. “That’s very fanciful Nicholas.”

  He blinked. “I suppose it is, but you send me into fancy.”

  “A road you’re not familiar with?” Who was this woman speaking so confidently to a duke while she stood naked, feet in the bath? It was she. But when had she found such nerve?

  Nicholas smiled slowly. “Perhaps we should venture down a road with which I am more familiar.”

  Was she ready? She was. Indeed, she was. And yet. . . Her breathing hitched in her throat and she pointed abruptly to the book in his hand. “Is that for me?”

  Nicholas stared at her then looked down at his hand, having apparently forgotten he was holding something. Then he smiled. “Yes.”

  “May I have it?”

  He gave her a cheeky look. “Are your hands dry? Would you like to dry them on my shirt?”

  “You, sir, are a Devil.”

  “A very, very, nice Devil,” he said as he extended his arm and allowed her to take the book.

  Her hands had, in fact, dried or she wouldn’t have dared to take it. Carefully, she studied the leather-bound book.

  “Aphra Behn?”

  “She is often neglected, but when she was alive, she was the most popular and prolific playwright.”

  “Truly? A woman?”

  “Truly,” he said with all seriousness. “She was a woman who refused to live fettered by society. Alfred, she stood great amidst her male peers, undaunted. And that is how I see you.”

  “You do?” she breathed. “Thank you. Thank you so much for that.”

  “There is no need to thank me for the truth,” he replied simply.

  At that, her entire body seemed to tighten with excitement. She wanted this man. She wanted him in a way she couldn’t describe. Because someone was finally seeing her for who she was and what she could be. She was ready now. So ready.

  This was the moment in which everything would change. And it was to be with a man she hardly knew though it seemed he knew her better than anyone else alive.

  Her family would be horrified. The ton would be scandalized. And surely all good young ladies the world over would be shocked and appalled that she had tossed not only duty but romance to the wayside and chosen pleasure instead.

  She knew that many women believed pleasure wasn’t even possible without love. . . Something that seemed to be in quite a few books. That gave her pause.

  “Nicholas?”

  He groaned. “Have you changed your mind? It’s quite fine if you have, but I do hope you haven’t. The things I w
ant to do to you then with you, Alfred. . . They’d shock your red head.”

  “That’s just it, Nicholas.” She was tempted to study her present, to avoid Nicholas’ penetrating gaze. Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I don’t love you.”

  He held her gaze, silently.

  “You don’t follow, do you?”

  “Not exactly, no.”

  “Well, it is said that ladies need affection. . .”

  Understanding dawned on his face. “I see. The things we do discuss, Alfred. You’re most stimulating and in more ways than one.” He frowned. “Aren’t you cold?”

  Come to think of it, she should be. It was February and for all that there was a blazing fire, castles weren’t exactly known for their warmth.

  She grinned. “Yes.”

  “Then let me warm you.”

  Was he trying to avoid answering her?

  “Answer my concern first,” she said, though now she was beginning to shiver since he’d mentioned the coolness of the air outside the warm tub.

  He gave a slight bow. “Whatever my lady commands.”

  It was a pretty and convenient turn of speech. She arched a brow. “On with it, please.”

  “Never say I’m keeping a lady waiting!”

  “Your Grace, you are a cliché.”

  “And you are naked. And I most enjoy seeing you thus.”

  She clasped her book then folded her arms over her breasts, tucking the volume under her arm.

  “Do not cover such glorious beauty.”

  She gave him a playful scowl, more and more shocked by her behavior. Wasn’t she supposed to be a frightened virgin? If she was, she was playing it very badly.

  He crossed slowly to her, his eyes roving appreciatively over her body then coming to rest on her face. Nicholas held out his hand to her. “Some women may need that, but I do not think it necessary to most women,” he said softly.

  “In truth?”

  He nodded. “Many women have trouble achieving pleasure.”

  With a gentle tug, he pulled her against his chest, slipped the book from her hand and placed it gently on the table just to their left.

  Water splashed to the floor as he tugged her tighter against him.

  Then, he swept her up into his arms, seemingly unbothered by the water dripping from her skin, dampening his clothes.

  “Many women are taught shame about their bodies, about pleasure.”

  His voice was a soft hum now. Deep and seductive and Allegra felt an awareness in parts of her body she had not known existed.

  Perhaps it was because she was completely naked, pressed to his clothed form, but just the touch of his bare palms to her flesh had her breath coming in shallow takes.

  Allegra listened to his words, clinging to them as she tried not to completely lose her wits.

  “In truth, dear Alfred, I think a lady can take her pleasure as a gentleman does. . . If she were not bound by the cruelty of society.”

  “And you don’t think less of her?” she breathed.

  “I cannot tell you how sad it is that so many women go the entirety of their lives in cold marriage beds, finding their love in their children and foregoing all passion.” He carried her to the bed. “What a waste, Alfred. Life is cruel enough without taking from us what little pleasure God meant for us.”

  With that, he lowered her down to the counterpane.

  Droplets of water pooled against her skin and without his warmth she suddenly shivered.

  Surely, it was the cold and not his gaze which made her skin so suddenly alive.

  But no. If she were honest, it was he. She didn’t want to be ashamed of her body or her desires. That was not the path she was choosing.

  “I want to know, Nicholas.”

  He smiled. “Then let us begin your education.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Allegra opened her arms to him, inviting him into her embrace.

  Chapter 10

  Nicholas couldn’t quite believe the effect she was having on him. He’d thought that once they’d begun bed play he’d be on familiar ground again but from the moment he’d walked into his own room and spotted her standing in the bath he’d felt completely lost.

  Oh, he was managing to speak with some sense, even his words weren’t typical. When had he ever had such an important and philosophical conversation in the bedroom? Never.

  He stared down at her as she opened her arms to him.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to transpire. He had no idea why, but he’d assumed she would be nervous and need him to ease her fears. Instead, she was beckoning him to bed.

  He loved it. God, how he loved it.

  Oh, he could see the slight fear in her eyes as she headed into a world foreign to her, but like any committed adventurer, it was that unease which made the experience sweeter. She wanted to charge into uncharted waters, not be moored safely.

  So, he whipped off his shirt and slipped onto the bed with her.

  Her arms wrapped around him and for one absolutely terrifying moment, his throat tightened with emotion. In her arms, he felt the most bizarre feeling of safety. It was a feeling almost entirely unknown to him. For an instant, he considered leaping away and running from his own room. But he wasn’t a coward. The new emotion was surely something to be savored.

  So, he stroked her damp hair back from her face and cupped her cheeks with his hands. Gently, he pressed his weight into her body.

  Her eyes flared and then she grinned.

  “Yes?”

  “This is most pleasant.”

  “Is it?” he asked, searching her face. This was nothing. This was the two of them on the bed. In each other’s arms. Staring into each other’s eyes.

  It was bloody terrifying. Why? Because the lust and tempest which usually drove his bedroom appetites were doing the strangest dance in his head. They were not participating as they ought, because simply holding her, pressing his body against her naked one seemed strangely more fulfilling than the countless nights of women that he had known.

  “Do you not find this nice?” she asked softly.

  “Nice isn’t the word,” he rumbled.

  “What would you say?”

  “Delicious?” he offered.

  “Am I a pastry.”

  “Never. You are far more than fluff and sugar, Alfred. But. . . I shouldn’t mind a taste of you.”

  She arched a brow but then she lifted her head from the mattress and parted her lips, “Well then, sample me.”

  His heart slammed hard in his chest. Who was this remarkable woman?

  He scooped her up against his chest and tilted her head back. “There’s something else I’d like to feast upon.”

  Her eyes flared with surprise. “I-Indeed?”

  Nicholas lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed her skin ever so lightly. He traced his lips along her flesh. Bloody hell, she felt like heaven against his mouth. Just her skin. Just kissing her. It was a completely different experience and suddenly he understood what worship was. He’d never been particularly religious, finding it difficult to understand a God who could rob him of his parents, but in this? All he wanted to do was worship Alfred’s body and her beautiful oddity.

  Taking his time, he kissed to her breastbone.

  Her heart was beating furiously and he felt a stunning impulse. Gently, he laid his head against her chest and listened. He listened to her life blood pump and course through her body. That was her heart. Her beautiful, strange heart that had shaken him in the last day. She was giving herself to him and it occurred to him that actually that meant very much.

  He looked down at her. Should he be doing this? She was innocent. In almost every sense of the word. “Alfred. . . Perhaps we—”

  “Don’t you dare back out on me, Nicholas. This is what I want. I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted. Please don’t disappoint me.”

  The determination in her voice caused his breath to hitch. For a brief moment, he considered whether it w
as simply male posturing which told him that if he stopped now he’d be disrespecting her, but as he gazed down into her earnest eyes, he knew that’s what it would be. If he stopped after that demand, he would be stopping because he believed that, as a male, he knew what was best for her. It would be the ultimate act of arrogance and exactly everything she found disappointing about men in general.

  So, in answer, he lowered his head to her breast and teased the delicate skin with his lips.

  She gasped as he gently took her nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. As he kissed, he slid his hand down her hip, to the juncture of her thigh, slowly massaging her body.

  A moan slipped from her throat as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. He smiled against her breast. This was perfect. Wasn’t it? This had to be what perfect was. A strong woman who knew her mind in his bed.

  He kissed downward, skimming her ribs and belly then he gently tugged free of her grasp. He slid down the bed and nudged her thighs apart.

  One glance at her flushed face told him that she was avidly watching his movements. No closed eyes or embarrassment. Oh, no. Sheer anticipation seemed to give her skin an impossible glow.

  “I feel as if you’re about do something significant,” she said, her voice breathy.

  “Do you, indeed?” he asked, trying for levity but finding he simply chose few words because his brain was still not doing as he was used to.

  “Are my instincts correct?”

  A slow smile turned his lips. “Alfred, I think your instincts are likely superb.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Shall I tell you or just show you?”

  She nibbled her lip in earnest thought. “Show, please.”

  Without another word, he positioned himself low, between her thighs. He was grateful she’d not requested narration. He was sure he’d be incapable of it at present.

  God she was beautiful. He stared down at her slick folds and couldn’t wait to taste her. She was glorious. She was unexpected. And he could love her for it.

  *

  Allegra wrapped her hands around the bed linen and gripped. As determined as she was, she couldn’t fight all her nerves. After all, this was her first time. And she didn’t think it was going to be at all typical. She was allowed to be a little nervous.

 

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