by Anna Bennett
He might have been one of the most powerful men in England, but in that moment, he belonged completely to her, and she to him. Deep inside, she knew this was all she’d ever wanted—to have someone to hold at the end of every day. Someone who looked at her as though the sun rose and set on her smiles.
“I want to be with you,” she said. “I want us to be as close as two people can possibly be.”
He swallowed and gazed deep into her eyes. “You’re certain?”
“Absolutely.” She knew it, felt it, deep in her bones. “I can’t make promises about the future without knowing who I am, and neither can you. But tonight, I am all yours. And you … you are all mine.”
Their mouths collided in a kiss that chased every rational thought from her head. His tongue probed the warm, soft recesses of her mouth; she nibbled at his lower lip. She rocked her hips against his, pressing her core against his hard length.
He let out a growl as he grabbed her bottom and rolled her on top of him, gazing at her face and body as though he were committing every freckle to memory. Her hair fell around them in a curtain, tickling her breasts and his chest. Nash showed her how to move against him, heightening her own arousal. And when she was aching with need, he encouraged her to take the lead, even as he stoked her desire.
With sensuous caresses.
And wicked promises.
And heart-stopping kisses.
Her whole body seemed to be swept up in beautiful song, its tempo rapidly accelerating toward one glorious final measure. Nash’s amber eyes looked up at hers, warming her from within. With every thrust, he teased out the pleasure building inside her, letting it gradually crescendo until there was nowhere left for it to go.
Her release unfurled—unexpectedly powerful and impossibly sweet. Her back arched and a whimper escaped her throat as pleasure transported her. For an interminable moment, she was ethereal as a melody, floating softly in the night.
Nash held her through it all, watching her with tenderness and awe.
And afterward, when it seemed her neck could scarcely support her head, he deftly rolled her onto her back while remaining inside her.
Pleasant little pulses echoed within, and she smiled up at his handsome face, her heart swelling.
“I understand you have doubts,” he said breathlessly, “and I don’t blame you. But I don’t need to know your surname or your family or your background to know you. To know that we belong together.”
Oh God. Her eyes stung, and she pulled his head down for a slow, sultry kiss.
With a low groan, he started moving again, thrusting in a mesmerizing rhythm. His broad shoulders blocked out the rest of the room. His muscular arms were braced on either side of her head; his powerful body covered hers. She ran her hands over the smooth planes of his chest and back, reveling in his appreciative moans.
Before long, pleasure spiraled inside her again, mirroring his. They came together, clinging fiercely to each other. When he would have pulled out to avoid spilling his seed inside her, she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him to stay. Perhaps it was foolish of her. Perhaps she’d regret it in the morning. But she wanted all of him.
He pressed his forehead to hers throughout his climax, kissing her and murmuring her name like it was his salvation. “You have my heart, Caroline. Don’t break it.”
* * *
All night long, Nash held Caroline close. Nuzzling the spot at the base of her neck that made her sigh. Inhaling the light, intoxicating scent of her hair. Wondering at the perfect fit of their bodies.
He dozed off for a while, then woke to find Caroline kissing his face, her breasts brushing against his chest. “I want more of you,” she whispered, making his heart pound wildly.
“Take what you want,” he said hoarsely.
Boldly, she reached for his cock, curling her fingers around him and purring when she felt the slick bead of semen at the top. She stroked him surely, and when he moved toward her, she shook her head. “Lie back and relax,” she said, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. “And let me please you.”
He did as she asked—or at least tried to. But everything she did drove him mad with desire. Nipping at his neck, trailing her fingertips down his torso, moving her supple body against him. And he knew he couldn’t wait another second to bury himself inside her.
He lifted her and flipped her back onto the mattress. Covered her body with his. Positioned his hips between her thighs.
Her eyes shining with emotion, she gazed up at him and wrapped her legs around his waist. “This feels like a dream,” she said. “I don’t want it to end.”
But Nash knew it wasn’t a dream. It was better.
He thrust slowly at first, but she tilted toward him, pulling him deeper. He pressed his forehead to hers as they set up a rhythm. Soon they were both panting, their bodies slick with sweat. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t stop.” Her dark lashes fluttered, and she licked her kiss-swollen lips. “It feels … too good.”
God, he loved that she was so passionate. He reached between their bodies and touched her, listening to every telltale hitch of her breath, every soft whimper. Kept thrusting till her body was coiled tight. Felt her release begin. She arched toward him, crying out as she came undone.
He held off as long as he could, but the feel of her body pulsing around him was more than he could take. Release raced toward him like a flame gobbling up the fuse on a firecracker.
He grasped her hips and groaned into the curve of her neck as he came, inhaling the citrusy scent of her hair and tasting the salt on her skin.
And he wished they could stay, just like that, forever.
“Jesus, Caroline,” he murmured at last. “That was amazing.”
“Mmm.” She nuzzled against his side, and when he’d recovered sufficiently to move, he grabbed the corner of the quilt, tucking it around her to keep her warm.
He liked the feel of her silky hair on his chest and the weight of her lithe leg on his thigh. He savored the little puffs of air she blew against his neck and the even sound of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep.
Bedding Caroline, a woman with no identity, was without a doubt the most reckless thing Nash had ever done. And tomorrow they would face a whole host of complications. But for now, he was utterly content. For the first time since Emily’s death, he felt a measure of peace. And if it wasn’t quite happiness … well, it was pretty goddamned close.
* * *
“I’ve brought something for you.” Delilah breezed into the drawing room the next morning wearing a pale blue gown that matched her eyes. She smiled mischievously, hiding something behind her back as she marched up to Caroline.
Caroline sat on the settee, staring at the rough sketch she’d been carrying in her pocket on the night she’d lost her memory. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it and what its significance might be. Did she know the couple in the drawing? And why had she been carrying it in her pocket? She tucked it inside the front cover of her journal and exhaled slowly.
Delilah tilted her head thoughtfully. “You seem a million miles away.”
“Forgive me.” Caroline set her journal aside and patted the settee cushion beside her, inviting Delilah to sit. “You caught me daydreaming, but you are the one who’s been wearing a secretive smile. The ball must have been more fun than you let on,” she teased.
Delilah shrugged mysteriously. “Every girl should be permitted a few secrets.”
Caroline felt an odd tingling in her chest. “Is that a quote from The Debutante’s Revenge?”
“It is,” Delilah said, unapologetic. “Now, aren’t you curious to know what I’m hiding behind my back? You might at least feign a bit of interest. Try to guess.”
Caroline crossed her arms, all too happy to play along. “A horse.”
Delilah narrowed her eyes. “Smaller.”
Caroline pretended to ponder the clue. “Pony?”
“You’re incorrigible,” Delil
ah said, grinning as she propped a hand on her hip. “Try again.”
“Very well.” Caroline schooled her face into a serious expression. “A toad.”
“Parlor games are not your forte,” Delilah said, shaking her head with mock sadness. “Remind me never to side with you in charades.”
“I give up,” Caroline exclaimed. “Tell me what you have there.”
Delilah shot her a triumphant smile as she produced a folded newspaper from behind her back. “Today’s edition of the Hearsay.”
“The Debutante’s Revenge column doesn’t come out until tomorrow.”
“I know. I can scarcely wait,” Delilah said smoothly, handing Caroline the newspaper. “But there’s something else that I thought might be of interest.”
Caroline scanned the top of the folded paper. “The advertisements?”
Delilah nodded excitedly. “There are two new listings for governesses. Of course, you may prefer to join an agency, but nevertheless, it’s interesting to see what positions might be available. And there’s an ad for a companion as well. You’d be wonderful with children or older people … do you have a preference?”
Caroline stared at the paper, touched. “Thank you for this,” she said sincerely. “I’ve been perusing the listings too. I’m not sure what I’ll do. But I think I’ll wait until Saturday to begin my search in earnest. I’m still hoping that the woman who responded to our ad will be able to tell me who I am.”
“Forgive me,” Delilah said. “I didn’t mean to rush you. Nor did I mean to imply that I’m anxious for you to leave—on the contrary.”
Caroline quickly set the newspaper on the table and gave Delilah a hug. “Trust me, I know you’re only trying to help, and I appreciate it more than I can say.”
“Good. And I hope you know I was only jesting about the parlor games. I’d choose you for my partner over Nash any day. You and I might not always win, but we’d have more fun.” Delilah fiddled with the fringe on a pillow. “I must admit, though, Nash has been more fun since you came to stay with us. I can’t believe he’s taking us out tonight.”
“I’m looking forward to spending the evening with both of you,” Caroline said. At luncheon earlier, Nash had proposed that they all do something special in honor of Caroline’s last night with them. Delilah had immediately suggested Vauxhall Gardens, and Nash had readily agreed. They could blend into the shadows at the venue and even wear a mask if they wished to mingle in the crowd without being recognized.
Delilah impulsively squeezed her hand. “I know you must be nervous and frightened about tomorrow—and the days after that,” she said. “If it helps, you should know that I don’t care who your family is or where you live. I will remain your friend, no matter what.”
Caroline’s throat grew thick. “Thank you. It does help.”
“Good.” Delilah sniffled. “Now that we’ve settled the matter, we should go upstairs and choose a gown for each of us to wear tonight. Something daring, I think.”
Caroline smiled at her friend. “Daring sounds perfect.”
Chapter 21
“Wearing your favorite gown into a crowded ballroom does wonders for your confidence—and that confidence allows your true beauty to shine.”
—The Debutante’s Revenge
Caroline gazed into the looking glass in her bedchamber as she adjusted her swan necklace above the bodice of the exquisite ruby gown she’d borrowed. Tiny puffs of sleeves barely clung to her shoulders, and delicate beaded trim skimmed low across her breasts. Rich red silk glistened in the candlelight and caressed her skin as she moved.
She imagined Nash’s face when he saw her in it and smiled.
Tonight, quite possibly their last night together, would be bittersweet, but she resolved to enjoy it as much as she could.
“There you are,” Caroline said, looking up at Delilah as she entered the room, still wearing her dressing gown. “Why haven’t you changed?”
Delilah sat on the edge of the bed and shot her an apologetic smile. “I came down with a bit of a headache after lunch.”
“Oh no,” Caroline said, frowning. “I know how much you were looking forward to Vauxhall, but no matter. We can just as easily enjoy a quiet evening at home.”
“Absolutely not,” Delilah said firmly. “I’d be miserable if you changed your plans to stay with me. And if you want to know the truth, it makes me happy to think of you and Nash having a romantic evening.” She gave Caroline a playful wink. “Go. Have a wonderful time, and I will see you in the morning. We can read the new edition of The Debutante’s Revenge together.”
Caroline’s chest warmed. “I want you to come, you know. Nash does too.”
“I know,” Delilah said, grinning. “But I’ve seen the way you and Nash look at each other. You need this time together—to sort out how you feel.”
“I know how I feel,” Caroline said. Just thinking about Nash made her heart flutter. “But even if he felt the same, I wouldn’t be able to commit to a future without knowing who I am.”
Delilah nodded. “You and Nash have some difficult decisions to make.” She stood and tightened the sash of her dressing gown. “I do too.”
Caroline’s fingertips tingled ominously. “Decisions involving Brondale?”
“Yes,” Delilah admitted. “It would be so much easier if Nash liked him.”
“Give your brother a little more time,” Caroline urged. “Maybe he’ll come around.”
“Maybe,” Delilah mused. “But in the end, I think I must follow my heart.”
Caroline swallowed. “I suppose that’s all any of us can do.”
* * *
“Does any of this feel familiar?” Nash asked. Caroline held his arm as they walked along a quiet, winding path lined with verdant shrubs and illuminated by festive lanterns.
Her green eyes shone with wonder. “No. It seems like everything is new.”
It seemed new to Nash too. He’d been to Vauxhall years ago, but now he was seeing it through Caroline’s eyes. The tranquil fountains and artificial ruins. The talented minstrels and raucous bands. She delighted in all of it, and the rapture on her face filled his chest with a warm glow.
They ate supper—savory ham and fresh salads—in a richly appointed private box. Caroline insisted they try mixing their own punch, and the result was a delicious, if potent, blend that included rum, lemons, and pineapple. While she sipped the brew, he drank in the sight of her.
Dark curls cascaded from her crown and framed her beautiful face. Her gown revealed the swells of her breasts and the creamy skin of her shoulders. The red silk was the perfect complement for her fearless and passionate nature, and he already anticipated peeling it off her later that night.
She sat next to him on a small settee and shot him a half-drunk smile over the rim of her glass. “Thank you for this evening. I’ve loved every minute.”
“The night isn’t over yet,” he said soberly. “We aren’t over yet.”
She set down her drink and leaned into his chest. “Let’s not think about tomorrow,” she said softly. “When the sun comes up, we can worry about what comes next. Till then, let’s just be with each other. In the moment.”
He caressed her cheek lightly and gazed into her eyes. For once he didn’t try to hide what he felt for her. Didn’t deny it, even to himself. Her courage and compassion had moved him. Changed him. And all the emotion he’d buried deep inside bubbled to the surface and lodged in his throat.
She’d become the center of his world.
She swallowed hard and blinked up at him, eyes wide as the color drained from her face.
“Are you all right?” he asked, slipping an arm around her shoulder and lightly caressing the birthmark there.
She frowned slightly. “I’m fine. But the way you looked at me just now … It reminded me of something. I’m not sure what or how, but it made me feel rather odd inside. As though I’m on the brink of remembering.”
“That’s good,” he said too brightly, li
ke he was trying to convince himself. “Do you want me to take you home?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. She nestled closer, draping a silk-clad leg over his thigh. One of her sleeves slipped down her arm, exposing the ripe curve of her breast, and his heart started beating double time. “I’m not ready to go.”
He tilted his forehead to hers. “Then we will stay. We can visit the colonnade, go to a concert, or even dance. It’s up to you.”
She arched a brow and threaded her fingers through his hair. “If it is up to me, then we will stay here. Just the two of us. Like this.” She brushed her lips across his in a whisper-soft kiss that quickly morphed into something deeper.
He ran his hands over her breasts and hips. Slid a hand under her dress and up the inside of her thigh. Touched and teased at the juncture of her legs until she panted and writhed on his lap.
Outside their supper box, fireworks rocketed into the sky and thundered through the night. In the brilliant flashes of light, Caroline’s skin glowed and her gown shimmered. Nash gazed at her, committing every detail to memory.
Her smiling at him with heavy-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.
Her fingers grasping his shoulders and her hips rocking against his.
Her soft, blissful cries mixing with the booms of rockets soaring through the air.
* * *
The sun’s first pale rays peeked through Nash’s curtains the next morning, kissing Caroline’s luminous skin. Her back was to him, and the sheets bunched around her hips revealed the perfect hourglass of her body. He nipped at her bare shoulder and slid an arm around her waist. “Good morning.”
With a sleepy moan, she rolled into him, nuzzling her face against his chest. “I cannot agree.”
He chuckled and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “No? And why is that?”
“I should like to stay like this—for a few more hours at least.” She rubbed a smooth, lithe calf against his thigh.
“Mmm,” he said, entirely of the same mind. “We can’t steal more hours, but I know how to make the most of the minutes we have left.”
