Wishes in the Wind

by Andrea Kane

  Nicole stared. “You truly got it.”

  “Never doubt me, Derby. As I told you, when I want something badly enough, I overcome any and all obstacles.” The look he gave her spoke volumes. “To that end,” he continued, “I’ve also made arrangements for your discreet arrival at Epsom. You’ll weigh out alone while the other riders are parading past the royal stand and cantering toward the paddock. You and Dagger will join them as they reach the starter.” He gave the brim of her cap a teasing tug. “The rest, Stoddard—the race and the victory—are up to you.”

  “They’re as good as yours, Tyreham,” Nick assured him. “Nickie’s understanding of the course at Epsom is amazingly thorough. Wait until she’s able to combine her horsemanship and her knowledge—there will be no catching up to her.”

  “Which is going to be when?” Disregarding the praise, Nicole seized the opportunity to elicit a commitment from Dustin. “When may I run a trial heat on the Derby course? I’ve stayed at Tyreham the entire time you’ve been away, as I promised. Over the past few days, I’ve ridden three separate trials at your estate, and each evening Papa’s instructed me thoroughly. But learning cannot take the place of firsthand practice. So, when are we going to Epsom?”

  “Your logic is extraordinary.” Dustin was clearly biting back laughter. “Have you been rehearsing this speech since I took my leave?”

  “Dustin …”

  “How about first thing tomorrow?” he suggested, precluding her from launching into her next set of arguments. “I’ll escort you there myself. I’d do so today, but it’s too late in the afternoon. By the time we traveled to Epsom and saddled Dagger, it would be dark.”

  “Today is impossible anyway,” Nicole reflected aloud. “Dagger is exhausted. I exercised him twice today, each time for over an hour. He needs to rest.”

  “Tomorrow it is, then.”

  “At dawn,” she amended.

  A deep chuckle. “The moment the first ray of sunlight inches its way over the horizon.”

  “Tyreham, about Newmarket, did you talk to anyone, learn anything?” Nick interjected.

  “Actually, yes.” All Dustin’s humor vanished. Quietly, he relayed the events of the past three days, beginning with Parker, touching on the unsuccessful encounters with the other jockeys, and ending with his confrontation with Alberts. “Nick,” Dustin finished intently, “Alberts described this third man as a stable-hand type who was tall, with an average build, penetrating eyes, and an intimidating presence. Most distinguishing of all, one of his forearms is severely scarred to the point of looking disfigured. Have you ever seen someone who matches that description?”

  Nick’s brows drew together, concentration etched into his every feature. “I was about to say no, but I have a nagging feeling I shouldn’t. Somehow, the mangled arm, the terrifying manner … it all rings familiar.” He massaged his temples. “But why? Dammit, I simply can’t seem to recall.”

  “Maybe you had the same experience Alberts did,” Dustin proposed. “Maybe this scarred man accompanied Archer and his cohort when they threatened you.”

  “No.” An adamant shake of the head. “Of that, I’m certain. I was only approached by those two men, the same ones who beat Sully and accosted you. No one else. So, under whatever circumstances I might have glimpsed that scarred bastard, it wasn’t on those occasions.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But I keep getting a flash of memory, thinking I’ve seen him. The question is when. And where.”

  “Nicole?” Dustin turned to her. “Does the description mean anything to you?”

  “Not a thing.” She frowned. “Horrible as he sounds, I wish I could say otherwise, but I can’t.”

  “No, Nickie wasn’t with me,” Nick murmured with another frustrated shake of his head. “I’m pretty sure I was alone when I saw him—if I saw him. Give me some time to think, Tyreham.” He turned, heading back toward the sitting room. “I’ll remember, come hell or high water.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  The clock in the hallway chimed five.

  Dustin glanced from the clock to Nicole. “I suppose I should take my leave.”

  Neither of them budged.

  “We have a bit of lamb left over,” Nicole invited impulsively. “Would you like to stay for dinner? Then afterward we can take that stroll.”

  “I’d be delighted to stay—for dinner and our stroll.” Dustin’s reply was husky, his expression taut, filled with heated promise.

  A shiver rippled through Nicole.

  Along with the realization that her moment of reckoning had arrived.

  Thirteen

  “IT’S TWILIGHT,” NICOLE OBSERVED, looking out the cabin window and watching the sun make its descent.

  “Delivered as promised.” Dustin came up behind her, sliding his arms about her waist.

  She leaned back against his solid strength. “That’s right, you did promise we’d share twilight the next time we were together.” A soft sigh. “It’s beautiful. How did you convince it to await our arrival, given the lateness of the hour?”

  “I wish I could take credit for that.” His lips feathered through her hair. “But I can’t. The credit belongs to nature.” He kissed the fragrant hollow beneath her ear. “Speaking of credit, am I the reason you’ve donned a gown once again? Or have you taken a sudden liking to feminine attire?”

  “Not likely.” She smiled. “I just didn’t think it would do much for the marquis of Tyreham’s reputation as a womanizer if he were seen strolling the grounds with a boy.” Fingering the folds of her dress, she added, “Although, without the layers of petticoats, these gowns aren’t really that dreadful. I suppose I could wear one on occasion.”

  “I don’t give a damn for my reputation, Derby. What I care about is that no one recognizes Stoddard’s true identity or his gender.” Dustin’s arms tightened about her, his tone growing wicked. “As for the future, I’d just as soon you didn’t develop a liking for gowns. Breeches give me a much better view.”

  Nicole’s heart skipped a beat. “You, my lord, are incorrigible. What am I to do with you?”

  “Tell me what’s in your heart.”

  Delivered in the midst of their lighthearted banter, Dustin’s solemn request caught her off guard.

  “I-I don’t know what you want to hear,” she managed.

  “Talk to me, Nicole. Let me drive the fears away.”

  Fears? She wanted no mention of fears—not now. Not when Dustin’s arms were around her and twilight was theirs.

  “Later,” she replied in a small, shaky voice. “For now, let’s enjoy twilight. It belongs to us for so brief a time each day.”

  For a minute, Dustin was silent, resting his chin atop her head as together they watched the fiery rays of sunlight dip lower on the horizon. “What goes through your mind during these precious moments when twilight unfolds?”

  Nicole inhaled the fragrant air. “When I was small, I used to wonder what the sun did throughout the night. Since no one could see it, it was free to do as it pleased. So what did it do? Romp about? Rest? Or, like me, did it simply gaze upward and marvel at the miracle it had left in its wake?”

  “Perhaps it wished it could stay in the sky and make daylight last forever,” Dustin suggested softly.

  “But why?”

  “Maybe it knew how lonely nighttime was for those who were alone, how empty twilight felt when there was no one to share it with.”

  Nicole turned in his arms. “Is that really how you felt?”

  “Not when I was a child, no. But lately, until I met you, without a doubt.” His thumbs caressed her cheekbones. “I’ve been searching, Nicole. Searching for something—someone—I’d almost given up believing existed. That’s when I found you, sitting on that bench, staring at the sky and wishing. And I knew, as you did, that I’d never be the same again.”

  Nicole swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Our lives, like our backgrounds, are very different, Dustin.”

  “But our wishes ar
e not.”

  Her lips trembled as she searched his face. “I’m not sure all our wishes are meant to be.”

  “I am.” He lowered his head, brushed her lips with his. “I love you.” He drew her closer, tangled his fingers in her hair. “I never said those words until I met you. It humbles me to say them. It humbles me more to feel them.” He tilted her head back, sealing their mouths in one heated motion. “Nicole, I want to give you your wishes, your dreams—the world.”

  She opened to him instantly, needing this exquisite moment as much as he did. Eagerly, she wound her arms about his neck, urging him closer, trembling as his tongue stroked hers. Her lashes drifted to her cheeks, every nerve in her body tingling and alive, attuned to the melding of lips, tongues, breath.

  Hearts.

  Something was different this time; or was that only for her? Something intangible: a change, a shifting, a transformation, an innate realization that after tonight there would be no turning back. Whether it was real or simply the consequence of her own heedless longing, Nicole didn’t care. She welcomed it, wanted it, needed it desperately. Her body blossomed and awakened, rendering her breasts heavy and aching, liquid heat coursing through her, straining to be filled. Nothing mattered at that moment, not the past, not her values, not the future. Only Dustin. Dustin—and now.

  No, it wasn’t she alone who felt it. He sensed it, too, for he drew back, stared into her eyes with a bottomless hunger and a blazing intensity as heated as his kiss. “Nicole …”

  “Shhh.” She reached up, lay her hand against his jaw, stroking the harsh angles of his unbearably handsome face.

  Reverently, Dustin turned his lips into her palm, fighting a battle Nicole could actually feel.

  “Don’t,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Not tonight. Please, Dustin, don’t.”

  His fingers slid beneath her hair, caressing her nape in slow, sensual strokes. “I haven’t the strength,” he bit out, shuddering. “Nicole … tell me to stop.”

  Stop? She hadn’t a thought to comply. This twilight there was only this, only them, and right or wrong, she wanted to drown in all the pleasure she knew Dustin could bring her.

  “No.” She stood on tiptoe, untying his neck cloth and unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat. Tenderly, she pressed her lips to his warm, exposed skin, tugging the sides of his shirt farther apart.

  A groan rumbled from Dustin’s throat. “Stop,” he commanded as her fingers trailed over his hair-roughened chest. “God, Nicole, you can’t—” Contradicting his own words, he captured her wrist, dragged her palm over his chest, across his nipples, down to his waist … and his trousers. There he halted, his grip becoming punishing as he battled once again for a control that was dissipating with every drumming heartbeat.

  Nicole annihilated it entirely.

  Easing her wrist free, she unfastened his trousers, her fingers sliding inside until she could touch him.

  A whisper of a caress was all it took.

  With a guttural sound, Dustin pulled away, flinging his coat, waistcoat, and shirt to the floor, seizing her mouth in a fierce, bottomless kiss that delved down to her soul. Urgently, he unbuttoned her gown, nearly tearing her chemise as he tugged it from her shoulders, shoving both the gown and chemise down to her waist. Gathering her in his arms, he walked three steps to the thick pile rug that defined the far corner of the cabin, then lowered them both to its softness.

  He came to his knees, his gaze burning into hers as he cupped her breasts, defining their softness with worshipful strokes of his fingertips. Nicole’s nipples hardened beneath his touch, his openly carnal stare, and she whimpered, stirring restlessly on the carpet, seeking more … more.

  Dustin understood her plea, for his hands shifted to her waist, tugging her clothing past her hips, down her legs and off. Then he stopped, tearing his gaze from hers, taking in her nudity with an awed expression Nicole would remember for the rest of her life.

  “Your beauty defies words,” he said hoarsely, devouring her, inch by inch, first with his eyes, then with trembling fingers. “As I said, a miracle.” With that, he lowered his head.

  Nicole moaned aloud as his lips closed around her nipple, tugged it into the warm cavern of his mouth, lashed it with purposeful sweeps of his tongue. He repeated the motion again and again, until pinpoints of unbearable pleasure began to shoot through her, converging in a liquid pool between her thighs. Desperately, she tossed about, wanting to savor the magic, yearning to further it.

  Again Dustin understood.

  He left her breast, moving to sample its mate. This time he lingered only briefly before raising his head, raking her with eyes of midnight fire, the look on his face so profound, it hurt. “I’m drowning,” he muttered hoarsely, barely able to speak. “Nicole, I’m drowning.” His lips found the hollow between her breasts, blazing a trail down her waist, her stomach, her thighs.

  Nicole wasn’t certain she’d survive. Everywhere he stroked turned to fire, every unexplored inch of her clamored for his touch. When she heard him whisper, “Open for me, Derby,” she did so without question, knowing she was behaving like a wanton, not giving a damn.

  His fingers found her where she most ached for him, gliding through the satiny wetness he’d created. He groaned deep in his chest, a shudder wracking his powerful body as he circled and stroked and awakened the very essence of her.

  “Dustin …” She sobbed his name when his finger slid inside her, penetrating ever so gently, withdrawing just as slowly, the sensual caress more than she could bear. He did it again and again, and Nicole twisted wildly, frightened by the clawing tension building inside her.

  “God, you’re like hot silk,” Dustin rasped, watching her face. “Soft, sleek, beautiful.” He bent, feathering kisses up the inside of her thighs to where his fingers probed, and Nicole cried out, clutching his shoulders, needing … needing.

  His mouth found her, opening her to his lips and tongue in a way that made her scream, and arch, and plead with him to continue. Streaks of jagged heat raced through her, faster and faster, and everything on earth vanished beneath the unendurable ecstasy Dustin was unleashing inside her.

  From far away, she heard his choked sounds of pleasure, his broken words of praise. But all she felt was his mouth, his unbearable, wonderful mouth, burning into the very depths of her, flames leaping higher and higher until they dragged her into a bottomless inferno.

  The world unraveled.

  Crashing pleasure, wrenching, saturating heat burst inside her, and she sobbed Dustin’s name with each racking shudder. On and on the spasms went, until she collapsed, limp and drained, her soul no longer hers but his.

  Opening her eyes was a colossal effort, but she managed to at last, only to see Dustin staring down at her, his chest heaving as he dragged in air, his forehead and shoulders slick with sweat.

  Their gazes locked, and Nicole knew in that moment he was battling for control, determined to stop.

  “No,” she managed, reaching up to tug at his trousers. “Please … no.”

  “Sweetheart …” He could barely speak. “I didn’t plan to …”

  “I know.” Her fingers found him, stroked the hot, rigid length of him, her eyes begging him to continue. “I love you,” she breathed.

  Her declaration was more powerful than his will.

  With a strangled sound, Dustin capitulated, kicking free of his remaining clothes, lowering his body over hers until he lay in the cradle of her thighs. “Nicole.” He cupped her face, kissed her cheeks, eyes, and nose with a reverence that defied his carnal urgency. Even as his hips were urging him into her, he covered her mouth with his, his words a fervid whisper that permeated her soul. “I love you … God, I love you.” His hands slid down to her hips. “You can’t imagine.”

  “But I can.” Instinctively, she raised her knees to hug his flanks, wrapped her arms about his back. “Like this?” she murmured.

  “Yes.” The word was ripped from his chest. Head thrown back, he pressed into
her, opening her body and possessing her until the beauty of it nearly made her weep. “How can anything feel so good?” he rasped. “God, how can any woman be so perfect?”

  Nicole was lost in the same wonder as he. Nothing had prepared her for this exquisite feeling, this utter possession, and she reveled in the miracle of Dustin’s body entering hers, melding them into one. Her eyes slid closed, her body softening, opening, sheathing him in its depths. She felt pressure, pressure that intensified into pain, but she didn’t pull away, somehow sensing that beyond that pain was the most breathtaking miracle of all.

  “Derby.” Dustin must have felt it, too, for he froze, his whole body trembling with the cost of delay. “You’re so small. So tight. I can’t bear to hurt you.”

  Her eyes opened, and she drew his mouth down to hers. “Hurt me?” she repeated incredulously. “If you stop, I’ll die.” Her palms glided over his back, down to his buttocks, and she arched, urging him into her.

  “Nicole.” He shouted her name, thrusting deep, tearing her maidenhead and filling her to bursting.

  How could pain feel so beautiful?

  “Dustin,” she whispered, an awed breath of sound, and she held herself utterly still for one breathless instant, memorizing every sensation defining this once-in-a-lifetime moment. Then, kissing his shoulder, she shifted to take him deeper into herself.

  Dustin shuddered heavily, eased away, then pressed forward, burying himself inside her again. “The pain … is it …”

  “Heaven,” she managed.

  Groaning, he repeated the motion, his hands gliding beneath her legs to lift them higher around him. She complied, enveloping him inside and out, wanting, aching, needing, more than she ever dreamed possible.

  Her inner muscles caressed him, splintering the final vestiges of his control.

  With a harsh growl, Dustin took over, surrendering at last to his primitive need to possess her, totally, thoroughly, unendingly. His thrusts became urgent, savage, taking all she had, giving all he was.

  Their bodies moved in wild unison, arching and falling in cadence to the relentless pounding of their hearts. The escalating tension reignited in Nicole’s loins, building and building until she thought she’d fly into a million scattered fragments. She clung to Dustin, begging him for things that would mortify her later, but for now were as necessary to her as breathing. In answer, he gripped her bottom, hauling her into his thrusts, opening her wider, more fully, with each motion, circling his hips until the friction on her—in her—was too excruciating to bear.