The Debutante's Ruse

by Linda Skye

  It was empty.

  Isabella stifled a curse as she clenched her fists over the glass. She lifted her gaze, letting her eyes rove the rest of the room. Breaking in had been too great a risk to leave empty-handed. Should she continue to search for the elusive jade necklace—or simply snatch a few other choice objects and call it a night?

  “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  The deep masculine voice made her snap to attention, her whole body tensing. Her eyes carefully searched out the dark corners of the room, trying to pinpoint the place from whence the words had come. A shadow moved in a dark corner. Isabella squinted, and the faint outline of a man seated in an ornate chair solidified. The man leaned forward casually, and a stream of moonlight fell over his unmistakable features. He extended a hand—and a beautiful necklace dangled from one fingertip.

  “You’re after this fine piece, I assume?”

  “Henry,” Isabella growled low, “What are you doing here?”

  He huffed, clearly amused. “Why, the same thing as you,” he said, unfolding his legs and standing, “Claiming a prize.”

  He strolled leisurely toward her, his face agleam with feral anticipation. He swung the necklace around one finger, and Isabella watched the green beads as they looped over and over again.

  “That is mine,” She announced edgily.

  “Not yet, it isn’t,” Henry teased, lifting the jewels so they were just out of her reach.

  Isabella sprang without warning, leaping with the surefootedness of a cat. She stretched, reaching for the string of jade, but Henry twisted from her path and she clutched at nothing but air. With a soft snarl, she grabbed at his clothing and tried again, but he only chuckled and lifted the prize higher. Abandoning reserve, Isabella pounced and tackled him with all her strength. They tumbled to the carpet in a tangle of wrestling limbs. The jade necklace flew from Henry’s fingers and rolled across the floor, stopping to rest before a tall mirror. Isabella scrambled forward to seize the necklace—but just as her fingers grazed the surface of one huge bead, Henry hauled her back across the carpet. With one hand, he pinned her wrists to the floor above her head, and with the other, he hooked her knee over his hip. His breathing heavy, he leaned down over her.

  “Caught you stealing,” He pronounced triumphantly.

  She bucked wildly beneath him, eyes flashing.

  “I do not admit defeat,” She hissed, teeth gritted as she strained against his iron hold.

  Her constant writhing excited him, and he leaned in to press his open mouth to her neck. He dragged his lips down the black silk of her tight clothing, smiling as she arched under his touch.

  “Come now, Isabella,” He whispered, his lips moving over her skin, “Do not be a poor sport. We both know I have won.”

  Isabella stilled under his touch, her chest heaving and her heart racing. He had won, she realized. And then, as she became keenly aware of his muscled thighs between hers, she found she didn’t completely dislike the idea. He could demand anything from her now, she thought. Anything.

  “Won?” Her voice was small, soft and almost plaintive.

  He pulled back slightly to catch her questioning gaze and offer her a smile that gleamed in the moonlight.

  “Yes, I’ve won our wager,” He said, sliding his hands down her outstretched arms, “I’ve won and earned the right to claim my prize.”

  Isabella lifted herself onto her elbows, tilting her head to the side.

  “And what would you claim of me, my lord?” Her breathless voice held a note of excited anticipation.

  Henry pulled her up quickly, settling her over his thighs as he sat back on his heels.

  “Everything,” He said as he anchored her hips to his with an arm, “I would take everything, Isabella.”

  With a sensual twist, he ground himself against her, and the ensuing tingle that bubbled in the pit of her stomach was a surprise to Isabella. She gasped and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I would know you in every way,” He murmured, “From every angle.”

  His free hand began to delve into the folds of her garment, and he skimmed the bare skin of her side with his warm palm. She rocked against his hips, and he lightly nipped the peak of her breast through the fabric in response.

  “You’ve caught me,” Isabella gasped in pleasure, “I’m yours.”

  All at once his lips were on hers, greedily plundering her mouth with white-hot fervor. He slowly began to peel back the clingy silk that covered her, exposing a line of creamy flesh to his hungry eyes. He pulled the fabric away impatiently. It slid to the floor with a whisper, and he greedily devoured her naked skin with his hands. His hands seemed everywhere at once: running down her bare arms, smoothing over the swell of her breasts—and leaving pinpricks of pleasure in their wake.

  He smoothed his palms down her back and under her naked bottom, and they both groaned as she pressed closer to him. Emboldened by his flushed expression, she put her nimble fingers to work and made short work of the buttons of his shirt. Keeping one hand on her curved backside, he shrugged off the garment as she pulled at his earlobe with her teeth. In response, he gently pushed a knuckle against her womanhood, eliciting a gasp of delight. As he slid his finger inside her, she whimpered in his ear. Grunting, he pulled himself free of his constricting trousers. His fingers stilled within her, and she rotated her hips pleadingly. He breathed darkly, and brought one of her hands down, guiding her fingers around him. Curious about the velvet stiffness in her fist, she looked down, and he groaned as she stroked experimentally.

  “You little minx,” he growled against her mouth.

  His large hand closed around hers as he showed her how to pump rapidly. When she mewled plaintively, he resumed his exploration of her innermost cavern with deft fingers. She bit down on his shoulder when her damp thighs trembled in a spasm of pleasure.

  All of a sudden, she found herself lifted from his lap and gently laid out onto the plush carpet. Henry climbed over her, his eyes wild with passion and his chest heaving. The muscles of his arms rippled as he dragged her shapely thighs over his naked hips.

  “I want to make you mine.” His voice was husky and rough, and his fingers trembled as they danced across her bare skin. He tentatively probed her entrance. “Are you ready?”

  At her tremulous nod, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Hang on to me.”

  She cried out and dug her blunt fingernails deep into his shoulder blades as he thrust deep within her, stretching her for the first time. Buried to the hilt, he paused and held himself painfully still. As he waited for her to adjust, he kissed away the stray tears that had collected at the corners of her eyes. He began to rock his body gently against hers, and she cried out in fevered pleasure. She twined her ankles around his waist as he drew her even closer, grunting his pleasure at her ear.

  But then he pulled away, and she cried out at the loss. He stood and shed the remainder of his clothing, then bent to tenderly hoist her upward. Hands on her shoulders, he turned her so that she faced the tall mirror. Blushing, she looked away.

  “This is yours.”

  Henry planted a line of soft kisses from her shoulder to chin, and then he draped the forgotten jade necklace over her collarbones and fastened the clasp at the nape of her neck. Isabella looked up, surprised, as the cool beads touched her skin.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, of course,” Isabella breathed, fingertips hovering over the jade prize.

  “But not as beautiful as these.”

  His hands glided down and he cupped her breasts, rolling the dark beads at their tips between his thumb and forefinger. Isabella fell back onto his chest and shuddered with pleasure as his hands continued their downward exploration of her body.

  Spurred on by her soft moans of bliss, he splayed the fingers of one hand ove
r her soft neck as his other hand explored the supple landscape of her body. He dropped to his knees behind her, leaving a ribbon of kisses down her spine. His questing hands cupped and pinched and kneaded until she was shivering with desire.

  “Look at us.” His voice was thick with raw need. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

  Isabella blinked her eyes open languorously. In the dim light, she saw her reflection in the mirror, naked but for the priceless necklace he had placed on her. His hands were dark against her creamy white skin, and they danced over her body and stoked a fire deep within her belly. When his fingers dipped into her heated core, she nearly wept in blissful agony. A lusty chuckle filled her ear, and he dragged his hands from her hips up to her hair. He shook the pins from her dark locks, watching hungrily as her thick hair fell in curls around her shoulders. With a sensuous glide of his hands, he pushed her down and forward onto her hands and knees, curving his heated body over hers and trapping her within the cage of his muscular limbs.

  She is so small. Pushing her hair to the side, he kissed and nipped at the nape of her neck, and she arched her back in a fevered response. But so strong.

  He entered her in one fluid thrust, filling her body and her heart to capacity. In the mirror, he saw her face contort in wanton pleasure and was filled with masculine pride. The jade beads swung in time to his thrusts, but their glorious shine paled in comparison to the swaying peaks of her breasts and the radiant glow in her impassioned eyes. Their eyes locked in the reflection, love and longing swirling in their depths.

  “Henry,” She gasped as he increased his pace.

  He grunted approvingly and began to thrust in earnest, bringing them closer and closer to explosive heights.

  “Scream it,” he urged, his fingers digging into her hip.

  And she did, crying his name heedlessly as she clenched around him. Unable to resist the delicious ache building in his body, he gripped her tightly and drove harder, plunged deeper as she cried his name in rapture again and again. With a strangled groan, he joined her in the crescendo of their union, emptying himself deep within her.

  Spent, he collapsed against her. For once the woman was speechless, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Both trembling in the aftershocks of their passion, they clung desperately to one another, and the only sound in the room was their harsh and uneven breathing. He rolled to the side, taking her slight form with him as he did. She leaned into his warmth, her knees still weak and her thighs still quivering. Henry tucked her carefully into his side, his strong arms encircling her against the encroaching chill.

  “Isabella,” he whispered softly.

  “Yes?” She spoke lazily, her eyelids already heavy. Her limbs seemed heavy as lead, and she had never felt so tired before in her life.

  He smiled and tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. She was at sleep’s door, and she moved only to nestle deeper into his embrace.

  “Sleep well, dearest one,” Henry said quietly as she drifted away into a deep, restful slumber. “A new life awaits you.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was almost dawn when Henry roused himself from a deep and satisfied sleep. Gray light filtered in through the windows, and daylight was only a few hours away. He stretched his arm out to the side to draw Isabella closer, only to find that she was no longer there. Propping himself up on his elbows, he scanned the parlor.

  He saw her immediately.

  She was standing by one of the tall windows, the sensuous curves of her nude form cast in pale shadows. One of her hands rested on the wooden frame, the other hung at her side, her fingers moving idly as she hummed softly to herself. She had apparently opened the window, as a briny sea breeze flitted through the curtains and lightly lifted the ends of her dark curls. Henry’s face softened; she was so lovely that his heart swelled with tender affection.

  “I hadn’t realized you’d awoken,” He said, “How long have you been waiting?”

  She turned to look at him, and he was spellbound by the silvery outline of her pert breasts. Her smile was just as brilliant.

  “Only a little while.”

  She padded silently over to where he lay. With a boldness that made his loins tighten with want, she casually straddled him, draping her long, shapely legs over his hips.

  “Oh my,” He grunted, his hands sliding up her thighs to grip her hips. “I take it that you are pleased?”

  She flashed her teeth in a devilish smile as she raked her fingernails down his chest. She leaned in close and traced a line from his chin to his ear with her tongue.

  “I am,” She whispered, “Very much.”

  With a sigh of pleasure, she began to rock against him. His hardness slipped slowly and seductively between them, and he groaned and dug his fingers into her pliant flesh. She threw her head back and rolled her body against his.

  “Again already?” He grunted, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down for a searing kiss.

  “No,” She breathed against his lips, “Of course not.”

  “What?” He gripped her hips and held her still, pulling back to stare up at her disbelievingly.

  Isabella smirked and gently ground her core against him. Then, to his absolute frustration, she lifted herself up and stepped away. He sat up and watched as she nonchalantly slipped back into her black silk.

  “Once,” She teased playfully, lifting one perfect finger, “You’ve caught me only once.”

  “You little minx,” Henry growled, “Are you saying I’ll have to catch you again? I know you want this as much I do.”

  “I don’t deny it,” Isabella said with a sweet smile. “But rules are rules, after all.”

  He cocked a brow. “Just what are you suggesting?”

  She strolled over to the open window and sat on its ledge. Tilting her head to gauge his reaction, she tugged gently at the jade necklace that still hung from her neck.

  “This is mine now,” she said, “But I am still a thief.”

  “So?”

  “And I don’t plan to stop thieving. So catch me again,” she continued, crossing her legs. “And I promise—I’ll give you even more.”

  Henry stood, and Isabella could not help but eye his lean, muscled frame. He grinned hungrily, his mind already racing to pinpoint the location of her next target—and their next adventure.

  “I will catch you, Isabella,” He promised.

  “I know you will.” Her lips lifted in an eager smile. “I can’t wait.”

  With one last wicked smile, she swung her legs over the edge of the window and dropped down to the street below. Henry strode over to the window and watched as Isabella, the flower of Hong Kong, disappeared into the gray hours of dawn.

  Their game had just begun.

  * * * * *

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  About the Author

  Linda is a travel addict and a self-proclaimed food critic with an insatiable
appetite for the written word. She first developed her love for reading and writing by browsing her grandfather’s dictionaries and etymology books—a habit she has yet to abandon!

  Born to Filipino parents in the United States and raised in Canada, Linda is a modern-day nomad, moving across country and ocean with her military husband. She currently lives in the United Kingdom and spends her free time writing, practicing digital photography, updating her food blog and dreaming of adventures at home and abroad. She has travelled throughout North America, Europe, Asia and Africa.

  Linda holds a Master of Education and specializes in teaching languages and literature. She has been teaching English as a Second Language, English literature and literacy courses since 2001. Though she is currently teaching part-time at a local technical college, Linda is a full-time daydreamer with a passion for the strange, mysterious and exotic.

  ISBN: 978-14592-2672-2

  The Debutante’s Ruse

  Copyright © 2012 by Linda Skye

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