The Only One

by Samanthya Wyatt

  A warmth spread through his chest. Such conflicting emotions, he could not begin to sort them out.

  “The sky is so blue today,” she said on a breathy sigh. “Enhances the impression of a perfect haven hideaway.”

  Giles couldn’t find fault with that. The isolation alone proposed a clandestine rendezvous. Food. When one needed a distraction, food was a good diversion. At this moment the only thought in his lusty head—the one below his waist—involved the removal of Alex’s clothes.

  “A perfect spot for a picnic.” He spun, hissing out a breath, thankful for the few paces of retreat to his horse.

  He laid out a blanket, placed the hamper on one corner, and then admired the graceful way Alex arranged her skirts. Cornelia clearly had her niece practicing genteel ways. The girl’s comportment had changed considerably. He had to admit, he no longer saw her as a child. She was a soft, inquisitive, responsive woman.

  A smile as innocent as a babe crept over Alex’s lips. Big brown eyes glinted, and for just a moment he remembered how they burned bright in passion. A jolt of hunger shot through him, having little to do with food. Suddenly he wanted to discover whatever adventure this day might hold.

  “Let’s see what delicacies we have in this basket.” Jerking his attention away from his licentious thoughts, he opened the hamper lid. “Ah.” He lifted a slice from a cheese wheel wrapped in cloth. “This looks divine. We have bread, chicken, and strawberries.”

  “I see you’ve thought of everything.”

  He glanced over and gave her a sassy wink. “I’ve added something special.”

  When he brought out a bottle of wine, her face lit up.

  “I had to sneak two wine glasses from the cupboard.”

  “If Phibe had caught you, and knew I was sharing your find, you would have received a good tongue lashing.” She let out a gleeful chuckle.

  “My dear girl. Don’t you think I could have smoothed Cook’s ruffled feathers?”

  “I have no doubt.” She gave him an adoring smile that wrenched at him. Damn, she was desirable.

  Lifting one glass, he poured from a bottle of French wine, then handed the delicate crystal to her. After filling another goblet with the burgundy liquid, he drank slowly and watched Alex as she sipped hers. His gaze moved to her dainty throat as she swallowed.

  “This is some picnic. And I’m hungry.”

  “I like a woman with an appetite.” He’d not been exposed to the full force of her personality. He smiled and looked forward to what the minx would deliver next.

  “I like food. And I like to eat.” When she grabbed a piece of chicken and tore a chunk out with her teeth, his eyes flew wide. Suppressing the ache in his loins, he belted out in laughter. She was no English damsel playing the part of a coy maiden. This girl was hungry and ate her fill.

  Alex blinked, and her face flushed with embarrassment. Then she shrugged her shoulders and her lips turned up in a playful smile. “I like chicken.”

  “You are pure delight. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a young woman attack a piece of chicken with such enthusiasm. Or pleasure.”

  Curse him, everything she did led to lustful imaginings within his thoughts.

  As they ate he repeatedly glanced at Alex. The longer he remained in her presence, the more enticing she grew. She really was quite lovely.

  “I like the way you look at me.”

  “You do?” He raised a brow. “How do I look at you?”

  “Like you want to eat me.”

  He choked on his wine.

  “You should not be surprised. You have heard me speak my mind. I’ve wanted you—”

  “Yes, I should be accustomed, and normally I am not shocked.” He swiped at the spilled drink. “But you do have a way of taking me by surprise.”

  “I’m glad you have finally stopped running from me.”

  “Running?” His hand froze, holding a napkin in midair.

  “Yes, running. I know you were afraid of me.”

  “I was not.”

  “I love you. I have for a long time. All I desired was your attention.”

  Good God. The girl had him muddle headed. Just when he relaxed in her company, she threw another punch to his gut. And then another. He inhaled a deep breath and blew air out slowly. “You couldn’t possibly love me.”

  “Can’t I? And after yesterday . . .” She dropped her head, but he saw her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  He should not be discussing his lapse of good judgement. He should not be thinking of her soft moans while he gave her pleasure. Or how she arched and pleaded, or the way she clutched him in her moment of bliss. He should not see her face swathed in ecstasy and remember how he’d lain awake all night thinking of nothing else. And he sure as hell should not be considering doing it again.

  But, recalling her expression the moment she crested . . . his groin tightened and he ached from the fire poker between his legs.

  “You are confusing a body’s desire with love. A healthy amount of lust was involved.”

  “You let down your guard. You touched me . . . like . . .” Alex tilted her head. “Why? Why have you changed your mind? Do you really like me?”

  He stared into her beseeching eyes, noting the golden flecks in their dark hickory color. Another punch. Soon he would be battered and bruised from her aspirations. Aiming for a natural tone, he struggled to keep any emotion from his voice. With a shrug of his shoulders, he glanced to the swirling pool.

  “You have captured my fancy.”

  “Is that all?” By her tone and the naughty sparkle in her devilish eyes, he knew she was thinking of the pleasure he’d given her.

  “Every moment I spend with you, I find myself more intrigued.” He seized a strawberry and held it to her lips, teasing the corner of her lips. She opened her mouth and sprang for it. He jerked his arm back, enjoying their game.

  She took a deep breath, drawing his gaze to her bosom. The linen clung like a second skin, revealing tantalizing curves of what lay underneath. Her gown afforded little protection. Raw desire shot through his veins.

  Exactly the kind of thinking he should avoid. His body had a will of its own. God Almighty! He had to stop thinking with his cock.

  Wiggling her fingers in the air, she made a grand showing of plucking a strawberry. With an evil glint in her eye, she held the plush fruit to her lips, and ran her tongue around the red surface before popping the thing into her mouth.

  Lust threatened to choke him. For a man who seldom let anything unravel him, Giles was spellbound. Before he knew what she was about, she lunged at him, knocking him onto his back. With a siren’s grin, she filched the strawberry, the one he’d forgotten dangled in his hand. She held the blasted fruit between her teeth.

  He quickened. There was no hope for it. The chit enticed him with a magnitude unbelievable. He swallowed convulsively. For the life of him he couldn’t resist stroking the backs of his fingers over her cheek. Bloody hell. This was not like him. Under any other circumstances, he’d grab her and make short work of getting the deed done. But she was an innocent, her father his host.

  She closed her puckered lips, and the fruit disappeared. The tip of her tongue darted out to wipe the strawberry juice from her lush lips. His throat went dry.

  He deserved a taste.

  What was happening to him? Good God, his common sense had been stolen by the devil. He risked becoming a half-wit to a seventeen-year-old girl.

  “Alex. We should not.” He dropped his hands on her shoulders, intending to push her away. But once his palms covered the warmth of her skin beneath her clothing, the last thing he wanted was to let go.

  “Should not what? Kiss you?”

  He forced his gaze from her lips. “But a kiss can lead to more. I showed you that.”
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  For a long moment they stared at one another. Her eyes glazed over so soft and warm, and her body angled into him. She made him feel something beyond what he knew, beyond what he could ever hope to have.

  How the hell could he think of her as anything other than a woman when she looked at him with desire? When she pressed her perfect curves into his hard maleness?

  “The knowledge you desire me wrenches my vitals in a painful knot,” he rasped, his voice ragged with longing. “Your curiosity stirs my body. I ache with the passion you arouse in me.”

  “Kiss me, Giles.”

  He shoved a strand of hair behind her ear. “You tempt me beyond my ability to resist.”

  “Then don’t. Kiss me the way a man kisses a woman he wants to make love to.” Her eyes blazed with innocent need, her passion lurking beneath the surface. He wanted her. And he had no desire to stop the heat surging between them. Ignoring the danger signals going off in the back of his brain, he surrendered.

  “Oh, Alex, you have much to learn.” He slid his fingers through her hair and gripped the back of her head. “Not make love to.” At her confused expression, he pulled her head down as he whispered, “Make love with.”

  He took her mouth as a man dying of thirst in the desert. His blood heated. His loins hardened, burning to make her his.

  Giles’ lips moved over hers with the surety of a man who’d kissed a hundred women. He coaxed her mouth open, interlacing his tongue with hers. His arms, like bands of steel, crushed her to a chest solid as rock. When she thought she could no longer breathe, he broke the kiss and trailed his lips to her cheek, her neck.

  “I’m tired of fighting you. Tired of denying myself what I desire most.”

  “What . . . do you desire most?” Her heart leapt with hope. More so because she wanted him to mean the words he spoke.

  “You,” he rasped. He tilted her head and eagerly covered her mouth with his again.

  Finally. This was what she’d wanted. What she’d waited for. What she’d practiced with the butcher’s son. But a boy’s kisses had not prepared her for the onslaught of the duke. A man’s touch. And oh, what a man. The powerful emotions swamping her body made her yearn beyond the bounds of reason, powerless to deny the mounting heat spreading from her chest to swirl low in her belly.

  Was it possible to drown in a kiss? The impatience in his kiss quickly grew more insistent, more passionate. Opening her mouth wider, she welcomed his tongue sliding, coaxing, then delving deeper, ravaging her sensibilities.

  Her lungs demanded she gulp for air. He held her immobile with his blistering gaze. Gentle hands lingered, strong fingers spanned her waist, caressing, creating warmth. Surely a wicked spirit housed her soul for she craved the feel of his hands touching her.

  Her mind whirled as he ran his hand down the curve of her waist and hip. Heat flared in her body. She pressed closer, her hands clutching his neck, pulling him in for another wild kiss.

  Shifting, he settled her between his legs while sliding his hands over her back. She relaxed as he massaged her shoulders, her head falling forward at the loosening of her muscles when he stroked her nape. She melted against him.

  He gently blew a breath across her ear; nibbled on her neck. A tiny moan escaped her lips. She cupped the back of his head while her fingers slithered through his hair. Instinct compelled her actions. Responding to his guidance, she swiveled her hips.

  His muscles flexed.

  He slipped her beneath him. A raven lock fell over his eye. Tenderly, she raised her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. Such leashed power should terrify her. Right now, his strength stirred curiosity rather than trepidation.

  “I’ve hungered for you, Alex.” His harsh breath rushed through his lips, almost in desperation.

  Her heart lifted with hope and joy, to think she had driven him to lust for her.

  “It hasn’t been easy keeping my hands off you.” One hand skimmed from her shoulder to her breast.

  “You don’t need to anymore. I’m here. I’m yours.” She clung to him, thrilled that he returned her advances. “Don’t think. Just love me.”

  Chapter 17

  Giles stared down at her, his stomach twisting in knots. “One day I fully intend to unravel you.”

  “Why not today?”

  A jolt of need thrummed his belly. Coming here was a mistake. His head dropped to rest against her forehead. Desire warred with reason and conscience. A torrent of sensation soared through his blood. Pounded in his temples. His heart battered against his ribs.

  He wanted Alex. God, how he wanted her. He longed to touch, tease; find sweet oblivion in her delectable body.

  Raising slightly, he watched the emotions play across her face. Yearning. Hunger.

  His control tumbled to dust. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her tongue had darted out to caress her bottom lip. Lust slammed at his endurance. He traced the outline of her mouth with a light touch of his index finger.

  “Alex. Are you sure?” He could not deny her any more than he’d been able to resist their first kiss. His endurance weakened with each breath. Hoping to find some sense of fortitude to calm him, some stranglehold on his building need, he dallied.

  But the look in her eyes, giving him her complete trust, snapped his last shred of resistance. Knowing he had no intention of following his own good advice, she suddenly became the one thing he must have.

  He devoured her mouth, sliding his tongue in, then out, and back in again. Tasting, delving, so delicious he couldn’t get enough. Breathing heavily, he kissed a path to her ear and nuzzled her neck. With agonizing slowness, he swept his knuckles down her ribcage. Meaning to entice, he created torment for himself. His hands inched from her torso to the top of her bodice.

  Her provocative smile coaxed him further, and he unraveled the laces of her gown, drawing the bodice apart to expose her creamy breasts. She gasped and shivered with excitement. Through half lidded eyes, he gazed down at her, drowning in her perfection.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Needing to taste her so badly, he wanted to savor every moment. His lips adored her skin as he smoothed the gown over the curve of her shoulder. His fingers trailed down her side, to the indentation of her waist, over her shapely hip to her thigh. At her knee, he drew a circle, then traveling the same path, his fingers drifted upward relishing every delicious inch of bare flesh. Higher, over a taut belly and sensitive ribs.

  A hiss escaped her lips.

  He cupped a breast. Her body quivered and she moaned her pleasure. With every caress, he wondered how he ever thought he could remain detached. His fingers kneaded, teasing the swollen buds into hardened peaks.

  “Touching you this way knocks the very breath from me.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  “I will teach you.” Languorously he removed the rest of her clothing while giving a kiss here, a nip there. Soon, every enticing inch was exposed for him alone. With the tip of his finger, he traced the vein at her throat. Her pulse beat a battering rhythm. He kissed her tenderly, then more forcefully as her response drove his hunger.

  He shifted, tugging his shirt from his trousers. With a flick of his hand, the linen landed in the grass. When his gaze returned to her face, large brown eyes glowed with curiosity and awe.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Men are not beautiful.”

  “You are. I’ve seen my brothers without their shirts.” Her gaze lowered to his chest. “But to see you . . . to actually touch . . .”

  Her fingers skimmed through the hair covering his chest. While she toyed and played with the curly strands, his reaction astounded him. Her touch sensitized his skin with a counteracting force. He’d no idea his body could burn so hot. He sank against her
velvety breasts, melding their skin together.

  “You feel so good.” The words she moaned rained havoc over his self-control. He dipped his head, kissing a pouting breast. Taking her nipple into his mouth, his tongue drew circles around the bud, then flicked it gently. She gripped his hair to hold him prisoner.

  He loved her with tender kisses, soft touches, and warm caresses over every part of her body, memorizing each detail and curve, every valley . . . saving the temptation between her legs for last. His fingers drew close to his goal, then he’d change course; teasing, taunting, lulling her into submission.

  While his fingers skimmed over her smooth skin, he kissed a puckered nipple, then drew the tender tip into his mouth. His tongue laved and he parted his lips, taking more of her flesh, gently sucking.

  She squirmed. Her little whimpers encouraged his already feverish lust.

  He ran a finger over her knee to the inside of her thigh. Growing bolder, he moved higher to the juncture of her center. She gasped against his mouth. When his fingers lightly skimmed her curls, she gripped him with urgency. Whether reflex or instinct, her enthusiastic fervor would be the death of him.

  Giles told himself to linger. But one touch led to another . . . and another, until he reached his prize. His hand cupped her mound. Brushing her entrance, his fingers found her wet. Relief and hunger ripped at him as he probed her with a sure, swift stroke.

  She shivered and jerked her hips while digging her fingers into his back.

  He made no sound, only stroked her tenderly, massaged her swollen nub, then thrust one finger inside her slick passage.

  Her breath hitched, brokenly.

  A fierce hunger slammed his belly. Joy swamped his chest. How could the simple act of giving her pleasure affect him so?

  Licking her creamy skin, he kissed a path down to her breast while his fingers stroked firmly, adding more pressure. Squirming, shuddering, her moans grew louder. He swelled with elation, watching Alex in the throes of her passion, basking in her breathless gasps of pleasure.