The Heiress He's Been Waiting For

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  Sara had taken a great risk in inviting Alexander here tonight, but then he had taken a greater risk in coming to London. It demonstrated just how much they loved and trusted each other.

  At that moment Aunt Lisette and Uncle Quinton walked by her. Sara felt as if she were running a gauntlet with her mother’s family this evening, but she greeted them warmly.

  “Why aren’t you dancing, Sara?” Aunt Lisette questioned. With her auburn hair arranged elegantly and her mauve mask, it could have easily been her mother standing there with her. All the Hamilton sisters looked remarkably alike.

  “Oh, I was dancing earlier,” Sara said breezily, smiling. “I’m just taking a little rest.”

  “Will you save a dance for your old uncle Quinton?” he asked with a little wink.

  “Of course I will. I shall join you both in the ballroom shortly.”

  With butterflies in her stomach, Sara watched nervously as her aunt and uncle walked into the ballroom without her. Now it was after nine-thirty. Having instructed him to arrive at nine, she worried if Alexander was going to show up after all. Perhaps something happened to delay his arrival? A carriage accident?

  “Sara?”

  A voice so familiar she wanted to cry with joy at the sound of it whispered beside her. She turned toward it, recognizing him instantly. And there he was, in all his golden splendor. Alexander Drake. The love of her life. Wearing black evening clothes with a gold embroidered vest and an elaborate golden mask, he stood tall and dashing. His deep blue eyes danced with happiness behind the gilded mask, which accentuated his light blond locks that were slicked back from his face. His incredibly handsome face. Even hidden by the gold mask, she longed to touch it.

  “Alexander,” she said softly, although she really wanted to scream his name aloud. “I can’t believe it’s really you. That you’re really here.”

  He smiled at her with his perfectly straight teeth. “I am finally here, my darling, for you and you alone.”

  20

  Gangway

  Christopher searched the crowd with mounting panic, not even entirely sure why he was so worried. Sara was more than likely perfectly fine. Yet still, the idea of her with that American man caused his blood to boil. If anything happened to her tonight, he would never forgive himself.

  He’d come to the ball tonight to have a last night of freedom unencumbered by escorting a fiancée around before his engagement was announced Saturday. To add to his good mood, Miss Bonnie Beckwith and her family were not invited to this particular soiree. The Duke of Rathmore’s guest list was varied to be sure, but discerning at best. And of course, a marriage to Lord Bridgeton would allow Bonnie and her parents entrée to exclusive and sought-after events like this masked ball.

  Masks! Christopher groaned inwardly. What a night for everyone’s faces to be obscured. Searching for the beautiful face of the woman he loved would be difficult when it seemed as if every other woman at the ball was wearing some shade of green.

  Frustrated, he continued his way through the crowd for some time, eyeing every green dress carefully.

  It was then he saw her. He knew by the way she moved, the graceful sway of her hips, the delicate curve of her neck. Sara was walking away from the ballroom, her emerald gown trailing elegantly behind her. Had she been speaking with the blond couple who were now walking in the opposite direction? Was that tall gentleman in the golden mask the American and the woman with him his sister? His first thought was to go after him, confront him. Toss him out, if need be.

  Instead, moving on pure instinct, he followed Sara. He had to know she was safe and that she wasn’t planning on leaving the house to meet up with the American somewhere. Not sure what she was up to, he watched her exit through a small doorway off the main hall, closing it behind her. He trailed after her. When he was on the other side of the door, he found himself in another hallway with a number of closed doors in front of him. Quietly he began to open each door, one by one, searching for her. With a resigned sigh, Christopher looked into a storage closet, a stairway to the servants’ quarters, and a powder room, before he finally found her alone, gazing out the front window of a small drawing room lit by a single gas lamp.

  At the sound of the door opening, Sara spun around, startled. She’d removed her mask, the green silk ribbons still clutched in her hands. Clearly unnerved by the intrusion, she asked, “Who is it?”

  It was then he realized he still had his mask on. “Don’t worry. It’s just me.” With a smile, he reached up and untied the black ribbons holding his mask in place. He tossed it on a nearby table.

  She visibly relaxed, placing her hand over her heart. “Goodness, Christopher, you gave me a fright.”

  “I apologize.” He stepped toward her. “It was not my intent to frighten you.” She looked so beautiful he could hardly breathe at the sight of her. The green dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her lush curves, and the low décolletage revealed the tempting swell of her breasts. Her soft cheeks were faintly flushed, her lips slightly parted. Was it only yesterday that he’d held her in his arms and kissed her in his carriage? It seemed like a million years ago.

  “But what are you doing in here?” she asked, confused by his presence. “Did you follow me?”

  “I did.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “Why?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  She laughed a little. “What makes you think I’m in any danger?”

  He moved closer to her. Now the familiar floral scent she wore wafted over him, evoking memories of her sitting on his lap, willing and eager. “You were just speaking with him, weren’t you? Your American. I know he’s here.”

  She gasped, her expression shocked, and took a step backward. “How did you know that?”

  “I saw you talking to him just a few moments ago. What did he say? Are you planning to meet him later?”

  “Christopher, how did you know that?” she cried. “How could you possibly know I was talking to Alexander of all people? I could have been speaking to anyone!” Her voice was a bit panicked and he knew she wondered if anyone else saw her with him.

  He took another step toward her. “Is he coming back for you? Tell me you didn’t make plans with him, Sara.”

  She gave him a defiant look. “Who are you to demand such things? I don’t have to tell you anything at all.”

  “Don’t be foolish.”

  “What does it matter to you what I do?” she flung at him.

  “I care what happens to you, but you’re too stubborn to realize it.”

  “Well, I think you were spying on me, and I don’t care for that in the least!” She squared her small shoulders and jutted out her dainty chin.

  “What if I was? Is it wrong that I was trying to protect you?”

  “Yes.” She raised her voice. “Because I don’t need any protection, let alone yours!”

  “Someone needs to protect you from yourself,” he said, annoyed at her casual dismissal of him. “He’s not who you think he is.”

  “You don’t know anything about him.” She took another step backward.

  He moved forward, the desire to kiss her as he did yesterday grew minute by minute. “I know more than you think I do.”

  “You have no idea. You know nothing about him or what we mean to each other.”

  He glared at her. “Why are you in this room? Is he meeting you in here?”

  “What?” She looked baffled. “No.”

  “Then you’ve just made plans to go away with him?”

  “That”—she took a defiant stance and placed her hands on her hips—“is absolutely none of your business!”

  He took a deep breath, his anger and frustration mounting, and he fought the overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and kiss some sense into her. “I care what happens to you, Sara. So, yes, it is my business.” He was so close to her now.

  Her eyes blazed and she spoke vehemently, pointing her finger in his direction. “No. It’s really not
your business. Whatever plans I have or have not made with Alexander Drake has nothing at all to do with you. You have no say over anything in my life, Christopher Townsend. You have no claims on me. I have enough people trying to control me and telling me what to do. I. Do. Not. Need. You.”

  That was it. Her words set him off and he reached for her, pulling her roughly into his arms. “Don’t you need me, though?”

  She shook her head at him. “No, I don’t need you,” she protested, but her eyes were locked with his.

  “Yes, you do.” He held her tightly, bringing his face closer to hers. “You need me and you want me just as much as I need and want you. Say it. Say you want me, Sara.”

  For a moment, time hung suspended between them, lost in the silence of the room.

  “I want you,” she murmured breathlessly, as she dropped her mask to the floor and tilted her face toward his.

  He brought his mouth down on hers and he was lost. It was as if they both had been waiting for this moment. He knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t kiss her again, shouldn’t hold her like this, but he was powerless to stop it. He couldn’t have pulled away if he was offered all the gold in the treasury.

  And she melted into him, her body warm and pliant the instant he touched her, which of course, made any thought of letting go vanish into thin air. No, she couldn’t deny it either. She wanted him to kiss her just as much as he wanted to kiss her.

  By God, he loved kissing her. Her lips were soft and full, her mouth warm and inviting. Never had a woman made him feel this way. A complex mixture of powerless and powerful, of need and desire, of possession and possessed. He wanted her. It was as simple as that.

  And as complicated.

  He wanted Sara Fleming more than he’d ever wanted anything in his whole life. And God help him, if he was going to spend the rest of his life shackled to a chatting parrot of a woman in order to save his family and his estate, and if Sara was going to disappear from his life with her American scoundrel, then he was going to take this moment to himself. This one moment with her. He would at least have this.

  He didn’t deserve more than that.

  If she allowed it . . .

  And then, she reached up and her arms circled his neck. Her mouth opened and her sweet tongue entered his mouth. Her fingers ran lightly along the back of his neck and then splayed into his hair, caressing him.

  His heart almost burst at the tenderness of her eager touch. Again, it was her very willingness, her desire for him, that was his undoing. He couldn’t resist such temptation. He simply could not. He wanted her too much.

  Surrounded by the sweetness of her breath and the now familiar perfume of flowers that she wore, he kissed her with more intensity, and she pressed her body against his. His hands roamed over her, down her back, along her arms, which clung to him. He carefully pulled the pins from her hair, letting the dark tresses fall loose around her delicate shoulders.

  He found his own fingers slowly undoing the fastenings at the back of her gown. One by one, he unhooked each clasp that held her silky green gown in place, until it slowly opened and the material fell in a pool at her feet.

  A slight moan escaped her into his open mouth. He lifted her off the floor slightly, moving her away from the swell of material that was her dress.

  For a moment, they broke away from their kiss. She gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her breathing thick with desire for him. He cupped her face in his hands, her achingly beautiful face. Her lips were full from kissing him and her soft cheeks were flushed pink. Unable to speak, Christopher stared into her blue eyes, seeking her consent.

  He would die if she said no.

  Without words and now clad only in her corset and silk stockings, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. Her answer was clear and all he needed. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the large velvet sofa in the room. She was as light as a feather, such a tiny thing. He laid her down and managed to remove his own clothes in record time.

  He lay down beside her, wrapping her in his arms, his mouth covering hers once again. She responded with complete abandon, with almost a reckless, crazed passion that made him want her even more. The sight of her scantily clad body next to him, the feel of her silky skin pressed against his, the sound of his name whispered on her lips, her breath hot, the touch of her soft hands clinging to him, drove him over the edge of reason.

  He didn’t care that they were in a little drawing room at her uncle’s house in the middle of the grandest ball of the Season, surrounded by hundreds of people. He didn’t care that the man she really loved was out there somewhere, waiting for her. All that mattered was that she was here with him now. For now, right now, Sara Fleming was his. She belonged only to him. They belonged only to each other. It was just the two of them, alone in a dimly lit room, the rest of the world forgotten.

  What mattered now was caressing her, his fingers slowly undoing the front clasps of her corset, the straps of her garters, freeing her from all the constraints that kept her from being completely his. The sight of her naked body, her long legs, her pale skin, the gentle curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts . . . she was stunning. Truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He covered her with kisses, her breath coming in gasps, as she murmured his name over and over.

  As he moved over her, she moved beneath him, her hips pressing close against him.

  Sara opened her eyes and stared at him, his muscular body positioned over hers. There was no going back now even if she wanted to. And she didn’t. And she knew without a doubt in her heart, that if she asked him to stop, he would. But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted this. As crazy as it seemed, as reckless as it was, she wanted to be with Christopher Townsend more than she ever wanted anything before in her life.

  It made no sense that she’d just allowed this man, this naked man, to undress her and carry her to the sofa. It made no sense that she wanted Christopher to have her after she’d already promised herself to another.

  She’d just spoken to Alexander Drake and a flood of conflicted feelings surfaced, leaving her off kilter. Their reunion hadn’t been quite like she’d envisioned. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of the masks or because his sister had been there too, so he couldn’t say the things she’d needed to hear from him after all this time apart. Although she’d agreed to meet him at his hotel tomorrow afternoon, she had to admit she had more than a few misgivings about the whole elopement.

  After seeing him and his sister, Sara escaped from the noise of the ballroom to this little drawing room to have a moment to collect herself. She hadn’t been in there more than a minute or two when Christopher suddenly appeared. It surprised her how glad she was to see him, even though he had annoyed her by telling her what she should do, along with everyone else in her family, thinking he knew what was better for her than she did.

  The next thing she knew, he was kissing her, his mouth hot and demanding on hers, making her forget she was annoyed by him. Making her forget about Alexander Drake. She wanted to forget everything in that kiss with him. Far, far away in the back of her mind a tiny alarm bell was ringing, but she forgot that as well during this crazy night.

  Nothing made any sense to her anymore and at that moment she did not care. Good sense be damned! She was powerless to stop the feelings that flooded her entire body. The heady desire that carried her to this decadent place.

  All that mattered now was the two of them, together.

  She arched her back and leaned into him, gripping his muscled arms as he entered her. She held her breath, unable to move or think as he gently pushed his way inside of her. With a gasp, she trembled from the feel of him, blinking back tears. This was not how she felt when he touched her in the carriage. Not at all. This was entirely different. Not knowing what to do next, for a split second she panicked, wondering if she’d made a terrible mistake.

  His lips brushed her cheek and he whispered her name with utter tenderness. Slowly, gently at f
irst, he began to move inside of her. Growing accustomed to the new sensations that inundated her, she began to relax. Her arms hugging him to her, he murmured words in her ear. Sweet, tender, comforting words that soothed her, aroused her.

  Sara had never known anything could feel this all-encompassing. That someone could possess her so completely, so intimately, so thoroughly. That she could be so close to another human being. That he was a part of her. It was a revelation. A completely glorious revelation.

  She began to move with him, matching his thrusts with her own, as a newfound desire began to build within her again. She wanted him. Reveled in the feel of his skin, now slick with sweat, pressed close to her. She was surrounded by him. He was all she saw, his body covering hers. He was all she felt, as he thrust in and out of her, his strong arms securely on either side of her. He was all she could taste as his kisses rained down on her. He was all she could smell, as the scent of him filled her. He was all she could hear, the sound of his breathing, his heart pounding, the soft words he whispered in her ears.

  She was completely enveloped by Christopher Townsend. And loved every second of it. Couldn’t get enough of him. Wanted even more from him. The intimacy of it touched her in a way she never imagined.

  And then the pleasure began.

  As he began to move within her with more urgency, she felt the sensations that overtook her in the carriage yesterday. She ached to have more, moving her hips against him, which caused him to thrust even harder. Heavenly sensations built within her, pushing her further and further along, closer and closer to that elusive explosion of pleasure that had overwhelmed her when he caressed her yesterday.

  Together they moved in rhythm, meeting each other with their desire, seeking, wanting, giving, taking. More. And more. Sara thought she would die of the sheer wanting of him. Wanting him closer and harder and tighter and faster. It was so primal. So carnal. And torrid. And beautiful. And not like anything she had ever been told about sex, however fleetingly, or how it would be among the hushed whispers and speculations of her close friends.