by Ava Stone
“Miss Avery,” came the smooth voice of Captain Seaton from behind them. “I do believe this first dance belongs to me.”
Alex relinquished the starry-eyed Miss Avery into the captain’s anxious keeping. As the pair made their way to the middle of the room where sets were forming, his gaze flicked across the room to where Olivia was still charming Lord Clayworth.
She must have felt his stare, because she met his eyes over the sea of people, and a pretty blush stained her cheeks. Alex winked at her, and couldn’t help but grin when her blush deepened. He was just about to walk across the room to rescue her from Clayworth when someone clapped him on the back.
“I’ve never seen you moon over a girl before,” Simon remarked in sotto voce. “It was always the other way around.”
Alex growled at his friend. “Don’t you have a wife to entertain?”
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
He dragged his eyes from Olivia and looked over his shoulder at Simon. “I always do. Excuse me, will you?”
With an amused expression, Simon bowed with mock grandeur. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
After scowling at his irritating friend, Alex strolled around the perimeter of the ballroom. Clayworth had monopolized Olivia’s attention long enough.
Livvie tried not to blush from the seductive smiles and subtle winks that Alex sent her way. Which was a difficult thing to do. However, there was a room full of witnesses, and she really shouldn’t encourage him. So, she turned her attention to Lord Clayworth—Lord Adonis to the ton—and his rather unusual sister.
She had actually enjoyed Lord Clayworth’s conversation for most of the night. The man could be charming if he wanted to, he just didn’t want it very often. Caroline had been right about the earl—he had been relieved to have her company over dinner, and he was a bit more personable than normal.
She was surprised about Lady Rosamund Reese, however—having never met the girl before. Caroline had warned her that the young lady was painfully shy, but something else seemed off with the girl. Though she possessed her brother’s striking features and was physically quite lovely, there was a vacant expression behind her dark blue eyes and she didn’t appear to understand much of what was going on around them. She seemed slow, for lack of a better word. This girl would be eaten alive by the ton, and this evening alone couldn’t possibly prepare her for a season in London.
“Lady Rosamund,” Livvie smiled, trying yet again to engage the poor girl, “that is such a lovely gown.”
Lady Rosamund furrowed her brow, but didn’t say a word.
“Rose, say ‘thank you,’” Lord Clayworth patiently directed his sister.
“Th-thank you,” Lady Rosamund muttered quietly.
Livvie was, therefore, relieved when Alex appeared at her side just as the first chords to a waltz began. Ever since they’d arrived back from their ride—their eye-opening, delicious ride—she had wanted to be alone with him, as foolish as she knew that was. He made her knees weak and her pulse race. And he was mysterious, leaving her with many unanswered questions.
As he reached out his hand to her, his sinful silver eyes twinkled as if he knew her every desire—and she had a sneaking suspicion that he just might. “Dance with me.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand in his and couldn’t hide her smile. Tingles raced up her arm from his touch and her eyes locked with his.
Alex nodded a farewell to the earl. “Clayworth.”
Then he led her to the middle of the ballroom where other couples prepared for the dance. When he bowed, excitement washed over Livvie and she had to catch her breath. He was such a magnificent specimen, and she swallowed nervously. Then she clumsily dipped a curtsey before he pulled her into his arms and led her into their first turn.
“Miss me?” he asked with a devilish smirk.
Livvie almost stumbled, but he pulled her more securely against him. He took her breath away and she blinked up at him. “Don’t you think you’re holding me a bit close?” she whispered.
His smile deepened, and she felt it all the way to her bones. “Not as close as I’d like to,” he answered and pulled her even closer.
Livvie shook her head. “Alex! People are watching us. Caroline is watching us.”
In response, he tugged her even closer until her breasts rested against the wall of his chest, anchoring her to him with his hand splayed across the small of her back. “I’ve never let that dictate to me in the past, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Still trying to ruin me?” she asked coyly.
He shook his head, his silver eyes twinkling. “No. I’m changing your mind, or have you forgotten already?”
About Philip. She nearly stumbled again—which was most unlike her. She was generally quite graceful on the dance floor. She hadn’t thought about Philip since she’d returned from her ride with Alex. How could she have forgotten him? Even for a moment? Her brave war hero, still in Toulouse? The man she had loved since he was a boy?
She was playing with fire.
“I can’t, Alex,” the words rushed out of her mouth before she could hold them back. “I won’t change my mind.” She shook her head when he frowned in response. “Perhaps if I’d met you sooner, or…I don’t know.”
He sighed and flexed his hand across her back. “I can’t give up on you, sweetheart. Not when you’re destined to be my duchess.”
Destined to be his duchess.
If only she wasn’t so weak willed where Alex was concerned. Until now she’d always thought of herself as someone with great fortitude. But Alexander Everett was intoxicating, and when he touched her, when he looked at her, all her resolve seemed to vanish away.
Now he was staring wolfishly at her décolletage, which flooded her with memories of him touching and tasting her by the ruins that afternoon. Livvie’s nipples tightened, rubbing exquisitely against her silk chemise and gown.
“I’m afraid I’ve been neglectful.”
“Neglectful?” she giggled.
“Hmm,” he said softly, sending ripples of desire along her skin. “I was only able to lavish one breast with attention. I shall have to remedy that tonight.”
She swallowed. Hard. His suggestion nearly made her melt in his arms. But, truly, she could not let this progress any farther, much as she wished it could. It had already gone too far. “Please, Alex, don’t say such things to me.”
“Sweetheart, I promise that when you return to my room this evening, I won’t say a word.”
Despite herself, Livvie laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
The song ended and Alex offered her his arm, which she gladly took. Heavens, the man was strong. She could feel his power though his jacket and shirt. Livvie sighed, wishing she could take what he offered, but in her heart she knew it was a ruinous path. “You’d best return me to Clayworth’s side.”
Alex stopped in his tracks. “What the devil is going on with Clayworth? You can’t seem to get enough of his company, yet Miss Avery can’t abide it.”
Livvie shrugged, there was no harm in telling him. “The Averys were close with the earl’s late wife, a friend of Cordie’s older sister. I met the countess a time or two, but I don’t remember much about her, except that she was very pretty. Anyway, Cordie doesn’t think the earl treated Lady Clayworth particularly well.”
“And your association?”
“Oh, well, I’m simply doing Caroline’s bidding. She has focused her matchmaking sights on him.”
She’d expected him to laugh, since he knew what Caroline was about, but a deep frown had settled on his face instead. “She means to pair him up with you?”
A gurgled laugh escaped Livvie’s throat. “Heavens, no, Alex!” Then she feigned a look of seriousness, like a foot soldier repeating his orders. “I am to lull him into a false sense of security—being happily engaged and not the least bit interested in him—so she can blindside him next spring. She says any other girl would make him suspicious.”
“Are you?”
“Making him suspicious? I don’t think so. He seems more relaxed than he does in London.”
“Happily engaged?” he ground out.
Why was she not able to keep her mouth closed about Philip? But perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps if she spoke of him continuously, Alex would stop tempting her with his seductive looks and wicked words. “Of course,” she answered with a false smile.
He nodded curtly, and then returned her to Clayworth’s side. Without a word to anyone else, he quit the room. Livvie was certain a part of her heart had gone with him and she cringed.
“Well, that was quite a performance out there,” James remarked as he planted himself in an over-stuffed chair across from Alex in the blue parlor.
Until the Scot had tracked him down, Alex had been alone with only his thoughts and a smooth glass of whiskey for company. This course he was on didn’t quite make sense anymore. What if Olivia never accepted the only path that was open to them now? What if she hated him for forcing this on her? What if she never forgave him for allowing her to believe she had a choice in the matter?
He frowned at his friend. “Performance?”
James chuckled and kicked out his long legs in front of him. “Aye. Are congratulations in order?”
“What are you blathering about, you bloody Scot?” How much whiskey had he had? James usually made some sort of sense.
James grinned at him. “Well, your impending nuptials, of course. With the way you were holding Miss Danbury, it looked as if you’d already married the girl. I take it convincing her has gone smoothly.”
Alex picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his jacket, not at all comfortable about discussing his failures with Olivia. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all. “Things are going well.” Or they would be, if he could find a way to erase Philip Moore from her mind completely. Damn the major.
“I am glad to hear it,” James replied. “The entire situation has made me uneasy from the onset.”
“God forbid you be uneasy, Carteret.” Alex downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp.
“When will you make the announcement?”
There was only one way he knew of to keep James from asking any more questions about Olivia. He adored his children. That was his major weakness. “How is Liam enjoying Harrow?”
James smiled. “Better than my first year. It helps that his cousin Alasdair started the term with him.”
“He’s a very bright boy. He’ll do well.”
James sat forward in his seat and ran his hand through his dark blond hair. “Aye. I hadn’t been back since we were boys. It hasn’t changed at all. I remember thinking at the time that it was among the most grand of places.”
Alex snorted. “Strangely enough, I remember you saying something of the sort.” When James had first arrived at school, Alex had already spent two years inside those hallowed halls, since his father had shipped him off at the age of ten. “Of course, back then your brogue was so thick no one could understand a bloody word you said.”
James smirked. “You were merciless. Hounded me day and night until I sounded as English as you.”
A laugh escaped Alex. “You still don’t sound as English as me.”
“Jamie,” Bethany, Countess Carteret, called from the doorway, “why are you hiding in here?”
The earl leapt to his feet like a boy who had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Kelfield and I are talking, love.”
She heaved a sigh. “You and Kelfield should be in the ballroom. There aren’t enough men to go around, and there are some poor girls who haven’t danced all night.”
He chuckled, crossing the room to his wife. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Have I deserted you, darling? Have you not danced?”
“James MacFadyn, it is not me I am speaking about. But our poor niece is nearly beside herself from lack of attention.”
“Well, I doubt that dancing with one of her uncles will make Phoebe feel any better, Beth.”
Alex cringed. He couldn’t imagine having to dance with Phoebe Greywood. They’d have to lock him up in Bedlam afterwards. It was best to keep quiet, so Beth wouldn’t volunteer him for the chore. Perhaps she’d even forget about him entirely. He held his breath.
“Nevertheless, Jamie, do dance with the girl. Her spirits are so low.”
Bethany started to drag James from the parlor, but he threw back a look over his shoulder to Alex. “Kelfield, if I have to go, so do you.”
“Where is that decreed?” Alex protested, annoyed that Beth was now looking in his direction.
“The law of friendship. Besides, I’m sure Miss Danbury misses your company.”
That Alex wasn’t certain of, but he followed the Carterets anyway.
Music filtered down the corridor and it grew louder as they approached the imposing doors of the Prestwick ballroom. As soon as he stepped inside, he caught sight of Olivia. She was dancing the quadrille with some young fellow, a joyful smile alighting her face.
He had to convince her to marry him before it was too late. Before she realized she didn’t have a choice.
His time was running out.
Alex stalked into his room. The evening had been tedious to say the least. How everyone else could dance and chat about inanities all evening, he had no idea. Despite his title, he just wasn’t meant to spend too much time in polite society—doing so always left him irritable. The only bright spot of the night was when he’d held Olivia in his arms. Her smile could light up an entire room. Just being in her presence made him feel like a young buck again, until some reference to Major Moore popped up and his sun came crashing down.
He tore off his cravat and dropped it to the floor at his feet, then he shrugged out of his jacket. When he opened his wardrobe, a bit of pink silk at the bottom caught his eye. Olivia’s wrapper. It was still where he tossed it earlier this morning, so that the maid assigned to his room wouldn’t notice it and get all the servants’ tongues wagging in speculation about who the evil duke’s midnight guest might have been.
Alex sank down to his haunches and lifted the soft silk to his nose. It still smelled like lilacs. He smiled, remembering the look of fire in her eyes when she’d thrown it at him the night before. He did enjoy her spirit.
It was too bad he hadn’t been able to convince her to return to his room this evening. After all, she wasn’t immune to his touch, and he would rather enjoy trying again to convince her to marry him without the watchful eyes of the other guests.
She probably should have her wrapper back. It was ungentlemanly of him to keep it. In fact, he probably should return right it now. This very moment.
A wicked smile spread across his face.
Livvie sailed into her room and nearly collapsed onto one of the chairs. The last several hours had been quite tiring. When she wasn’t dancing, she was keeping Clayworth company—but the rest of the evening she’d been haunted by the look on Alex’s face when he’d quit the ballroom. It said a million different things and yet nothing, all at once. Though he eventually returned, he seemed agitated and hadn’t approached her again. Perhaps Caroline had been right. Perhaps she had the power to break his heart. The idea was like a dagger to her own.
She removed the pins from her hair, lost in her thoughts about the predicament she was in. It was all so confusing, and she wasn’t sure at all how it had even happened. She loved Philip, she always had—but Alex made her feel exquisite things she’d never experienced, never knew existed. It was a shame they weren’t two sides of the same man. Of course, such a man couldn’t possibly exist except in novels.
A soft knock on her door caused her to sit up straight. That was odd. She’d already said goodnight to her friends and to Caroline. Livvie rose, shaking the remaining pins from her hair, and crossed the room. When she pulled the door open, her breath caught in her throat.
Alex.
Looking more devilishly handsome than any man had a ri
ght to, he stared straight into her soul. His evening jacket was gone, as well as his cravat, but he wore a sinful smile that turned her legs to jelly.
She couldn’t let anyone find him standing in the hallway outside her room, so she grabbed his waistcoat and quickly tugged him inside. “What are you doing here?” she hissed after closing the door as softly as she could.
He didn’t answer, just pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth with his demanding lips. Livvie was breathless and would have staggered, if he hadn’t anchored her to him. She closed her eyes, relishing the experience. Heat emanated from Alex, and wanton desire pooled deep in her belly. She wanted him. Wanted him to touch her like he had earlier. To taste her. To never stop.
She couldn’t help but moan when he tilted her head back further and surged inside her mouth. Her hands slid up his very strong chest, feeling his muscle and sinew beneath his crisp shirt. His hands began to move up from her waist, until he cupped her breasts, making her pant and want more. Alex backed her against the closed door, sending tingles racing down her spine. His weight against her, pushing her into the hard door, was exhilarating.
There was also something else. Something that was becoming increasingly more obvious. She’d seen him naked. But she still wasn’t prepared for how it felt to have his rather large manhood, hard and firm, pressing against her belly.
She blinked her eyes open. “Changing my mind?”
Alex quirked a grin at her. “Returning your wrapper.” Then he reached inside his waistcoat, revealing her pink silk robe folded against his body. “But I like your suggestion better.” He tossed the wrapper over his shoulder and scooped Livvie up in his arms.
She gasped and stared at him in awe as he crossed the room to her bed. “Alex!”
“Why don’t we continue the game we started this afternoon, sweetheart. You’re still in control. I’ll stop or leave whenever you ask.”
She was somehow on her feet again, and his long fingers were already pushing her buttons through their holes, while his lips brushed against the side of her neck. Fire scorched her skin wherever his lips and fingers touched. Livvie couldn’t think straight, she was lost to the feel of his bare hands on her shoulders, her arms, her back—slipping her dress down her body, until it pooled at her feet.
